What You See Is What You Get: My Autobiography (109 page)

Here's an example: 'What computer equipment does Lord Sugar have
available to him? Does he have a BlackBerry supplied by the department? If so, please supply a list of all contacts contained in the BlackBerry.'

Bloody joke! They were told to piss off, as my BlackBerry is my own.

One of the things about being a lord is that you are not allowed to speak in the House of Lords until you have made your maiden speech. One's maiden speech has to be made on a day when one's so-called expertise is relevant to the topic under discussion.

On 25 November 2009, the matter of enterprise and business was being discussed as part of the follow-on from the Queen's opening of Parliament, which had taken place a week or so earlier - an amazing spectacle, as you can imagine. I decided to attend this for the first time, just to see what goes on. The chamber was filled with peers and the Queen read out her charter for the year - essentially what she wanted her government to do. As is traditional, the whole thing was broadcast. At one point, the cameras focused on me - the new boy on the block. The
Daily Mail
took the opportunity of taking a still frame from part of the video. At one stage, I must have looked around as if I were lost and they printed that picture with a headline saying I had been ostracised by all the other peers - a total joke.

In general, the people I've met so far in the House of Lords are a delightful bunch. There are, of course, the inevitable snobs who look down their noses at me as if I'm not entitled to be there, as if I'm a gatecrasher at their private party. There are others they treat this way too. In general, however, the people I've come across and spoken to are very polite - irrespective of what party they support - and most certainly the staff and all the executives running the Lords are exceptional in the service they provide. They all make you feel very comfortable, right down to the post-room clerks, the doormen and the restaurant and bar staff. I quite enjoy my little banter with the man in the document office, who happens to be a Chelsea supporter. Every week we exchange views about how our respective teams have done. It is a great institution and, without a shadow of a doubt, it's a tremendous honour to be a member of it.

I decided that when entering a place like this, it's important not to sling your weight around. There are people in the Lords who have been there for years. Some are extremely eloquent and highly intelligent speakers who are very interesting to listen to. Clearly, before I ever got anywhere near that stage I would need to do a lot of learning. There is nothing worse than a new boy coming in, shooting his mouth off and making a fool of himself. I was determined that was not going to happen.

There is only one way to earn respect, and that is by being judged on what
you say and what you do. I made my maiden speech on 25 November. It lasted no more than eight minutes and was well received by the House, though I was a bit nervous until I got into my flow.

In the first six months of being in the House of Lords, I quickly learned what to say and what not to say. It was pointless talking to the media any more. One thing became abundantly clear - that, more by default than shrewdness, my refusal to become a minister was a good call, and not just for the reasons I explained previously. Having sat through a lot of'question time' sessions at the House of Lords, I can see that the ministers who have to answer the questions must be experts in their field and have a full knowledge on their subject. For me to have been thrown in at the deep end and required to answer questions in technical detail would have been impossible, at least initially. I would have needed at least six months of permanent study to get to grips with the detail required to fend off any questions.

However, I was starting to pick up some of the tricks of the trade. Apart from some of the very nice people I've met at the Lords, I also came across, on a day-to-day basis, some of the people appointed to Gordon Brown's Business Council. You can see from the look on some of their faces that they didn't think my appointment to the House of Lords or as Enterprise Adviser was a clever idea. In the same way as I've described the husbands of the women who compliment me on my performance in
The Apprentice,
these people have a false smile and tend to just tolerate me. They think I'm a wanker because they've formed an opinion of me either from what they've seen on TV or what they've read in the papers.

Maybe they're simply jealous. I am not a schmoozer - I'm not prepared to suck up to these people just to get their admiration, and I certainly don't have to justify myself to them. Let's face it, many of them have simply worked for companies all their lives, or are glorified civil servants - ex-lawyers and accountants. At the end of the day, like it or not, I'm Alan Sugar, worth a few hundred million quid from sheer hard graft. Having said all that, there are some fine people on the Business Council, one of them being Richard Branson, who grew up in the same era as me. He's a man to be admired and I like to think there is some mutual respect between the two of us.

*

Due to my commitments, I stayed in the UK until late December 2009, before going to Florida for Christmas. Ann went ahead of me, a week or so earlier. When I arrived, I could see a rather pained and worried look on her face. She told me that while I was on my flight she'd heard that her father had been
taken ill with symptoms that didn't look too clever. In the past year or so, Ann had told me and the kids that she was concerned about the decline in Johnnie's health. He'd lost his appetite and was getting thinner. And, to make matters worse, it seemed he was losing his marbles a bit, constantly repeating himself and asking the same questions over and over again.

Johnnie was a very stubborn man. He'd visited the hospital for a checkup a year or so earlier and was advised to have a series of tests to investigate some things they were concerned about. However, he refused any further medical examination, his principle being, 'If you look, you will find.' Ann was very frustrated with this, but he would not change his ways. But this new episode frightened him and his wife Minnie, so he agreed to let Ann's brother Mark and my daughter Louise (who thankfully were in the UK) arrange immediate medical consultations.

Sadly, Johnnie was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given only a few months to live. He was a very difficult man and in his younger days he had little regard for other people's ways. Even in later life, his wife Minnie, and to a certain extent Ann, danced around him so that everything he wanted was laid on and organised for him. This medical stuff threw a real spanner in the works, and Ann and Mark decided to keep the severity of his situation hidden from him - they both agreed there was no way he could handle it. In fact, Minnie didn't want to accept the reality that he had only months to live.

As the weeks went by and Johnnie got weaker, the whole family witnessed the most terrible sight of this once very forceful, powerful and opinionated man wither away until, sadly, he died on 3 April 2010 at the age of eighty-eight. Having seen his deterioration, at least her father's death did not come as a shock to Ann, but even so she was very upset when the actual moment came.

Johnnie died right in the middle of the Jewish festival of Pesach. In terms of Jewish law, if ever there
is
a good time to leave this earth, it's
not
during a festival. I knew that, in keeping with Jewish tradition, Johnnie would have wanted to be buried as soon as possible. So out of respect for his deeply held beliefs and his love of his religion, I wanted to arrange this for him. I will keep this very short and simply say that I had him in the ground within twenty-two hours of his death. You would not believe the twists and turns it took to achieve this - considering it was a festival - save to say it would have made a tough
Apprentice
task.

We only got confirmation at 12.30 p.m. on 4 April that the funeral would be at 4 p.m.
that day,
so it was amazing to see the number of people who turned up. Not just the extended family, but members of the community from both Chigwell and Southend.

The traditional shiva was held at my home and hundreds of people came to pay their respects. One touching moment was when my nephew read out a lovely eulogy to his grandfather which encapsulated everyone's thoughts.

Johnnie was a proud and honest man, even if his values sometimes seemed crazy. Apart from his religion, his main love was his family, and this love was reciprocated by all of them. As I said to Minnie, 'He died a wealthy man, with all the love and respect he got from his two children, five grandchildren and eleven great-grandchildren.'

I really believe that, compared to materialistic wealth, I would take what he had anytime.

*

In May 2010 Labour lost the general election and that brought an end to my role as government adviser. Having worked with Gordon Brown since 1997, it felt like the end of an era seeing him leave office as Prime Minister. Like most people, I was touched to see the pictures of him leaving Downing Street with his family. I waited a week or so and spoke to Gordon to see how he was getting on, as he had taken a battering in the past months. He was in surprising fine spirits and thanked me for the assistance and support I had given him over the past thirteen years. He followed that up by writing a very kind note to Ann and myself.

Britain entered a new era in the political world with a coalition government formed between the Conservative and the Liberal Democrat parties. I found this marriage quite funny, inasmuch as I had witnessed them in the House of Lords tearing strips off each other in the past. I guess it's a case of watch this space.

It sometimes occurs to me that I'm getting close to the age most people retire but I'm not ready to sit back and relax - not as long as there are new challenges out there to spark my enthusiasm. I am sure there will be more to tell one day but this is the end of my story for now. It describes my long and eventful journey from Clapton to Clapton. That's Lord Sugar of Clapton - not Lord Beaverbrook!

I'd like to thank Ivor Spital, my longest serving employee, who has worked with me for many years, for all his research into the archives and his input on my text; Michele Kurland, Nick Hewer and Alan Watts for reading an early draft and giving me their helpful suggestions; Mark Bateman for reminding me that some good came out of my years at Spurs. And above all, my wife and children for encouraging me throughout the writing of this book.

Note: AS stands for Alan Sugar.