Lawrence Kenwright - Behind The Curtain

Lawrence Kenwright arrives 15 minutes early for our midday meeting. He joins me on the flocked sofas and does something I have not seen anyone do since 2010; he puts his phone in his pocket, not on the table but in his pocket. He means to give me his undivided attention. We go through the niceties, and he immediately starts telling me about the repositioning of his business, his love of historical buildings and how important it is that he and others continue to restore Liverpool's heritage properties. I tell Lawrence that, dependent on whom I am talking to, he is either a scally or a respected hotelier and developer which, slows his pace a little. The defiance in his tone is not lost on me as he informs me that the phrase scally reeks of class snobbery and that for some, anyone not from the upper-middle-class commuter villages in the Wirral is a scally. That what they actually mean is scouser or working-class, and he is more than proud to be both!

You bought your first development in 2004 and went on to amass an estate valued in excess of £260Million. You've employed thousands and brought millions in investments into the city, but the last two years have been something of a black spot in your career. What happened?

A black spot does not begin to cover or sufficiently express what has happened to me professionally and personally over the past two years. I am a man that lost £100 million in assets. Duff & Phelps took my company Signature Living into administration and essentially accused me of theft, as did some of my investors. I was a hairsbreadth away from bankruptcy. The rumour mill kicked into gear bloated with half-truths, unfounded allegations and cleverly worded misrepresentations in the press. My parents were so embarrassed they began to isolate themselves from friends. Business associates and people I thought were mates, people I've known for a lifetime, were unbelievably quick to stop taking my calls. My lowest point had nothing to do with the business. That came when I found myself looking out of a window at two police cars wondering, why my wife and I were under 24hour police protection. The detectives' words were on repeat in my head. "Your lives are in danger; we have intercepted credible death threats made to you and your wife. The people who have made these threats are known to us and are capable of carrying their threats out. Do not leave the hotel; we will have a police presence outside the building at all times, so they know you are protected." We were under police protection for six weeks. A black spot is putting it mildly!

Death threats! Forgive me, but I was not expecting this interview to take such a turn. Who would threaten your life and why?

I’m not able to go into detail at this moment in time, though I do know who sent them, and I do know why. I can’t talk about it; I think it best we move on.

Lawrence Kenwright talking in Belfast in 2017. Photo: © Matt Mackey/Press Eye

OK, let’s start again. It's two years since Signature Living went into administration. Can you remember the moment you first looked up and thought, I'm in trouble here?

I’d say it began when I decided to sell 30 James Street and the Shankly to raise funds for further expansion. Both 30 James Street and the Shankly were fractional investor models, and the Shankly’s investors were coming to the end of their term. I’d already repaid the 30 James Street investors, and they saw a 55% ROI. The idea was to kill two birds with one stone. Raise funds to expand our portfolio and pay Shankly’s investors back. I settled on a deal with Savills to sell the Shankly and 30 James Street for a total of £48 Million. We had a buyer and were almost across the line when Brexit boiled over, and Parliament was suspended.

Sterling fell, global investors became nervous and hit the pause button, and just like that, the deal I had put in place fell through. That's when I first thought there could be trouble ahead. Many of Shankly's investors were foreign nationals, and they were no longer sure of the UK’s prospects as an FDI haven. Brexit unsettled them, and they wanted to withdraw their funds in a hurry. It was a matter of timing; I was not in a position to honour their returns on investment immediately as the Savills deal had fallen through. We are talking about large sums of money, and for some of my investors, it was all the money they had.

Their investments were their nest eggs, and I know first-hand, the thought of losing all you have will make you sick with worry. What the investors did not know was that when the Savills deal fell by the wayside, I'd immediately begun looking to put another arrangement in place. One of the largest privately held funds in Europe wanted to buy into Signature Living in a 50/50 deal. Again, I was a whisker away from signing off when one of my investors Thomas Scullion, was interviewed by the Liverpool Echo. The headline of that hit piece read, "If I don’t get my money back, I'm finished". Unfortunately, that headline was enough to scupper the deal. Within hours of the piece going to press, I got a phone call from the CEO of my future, the negative press had caused them to rethink, and they withdrew.

So you see, there had been little fires everywhere leading up to being placed in administration, but I’d been working tirelessly to put them all out. That deal would have seen Signature secure a £200 million funding pot. The Shankly's investors would have been repaid, and our expansion would have continued. I was so close to avoiding the situation I found myself in, but that's the way it played out.

I hear the very investors that cursed your name not too long ago are all back on board and singing your praises. How on earth did you pull that off?

I told them the truth! I explained if they wanted to see a return on their investments, they needed to trust me. Administrators aren’t interested in returning a company to profitability. Their interest lies in liquidating companies to realise their assets and pay certain creditors back. My issue is administrators are not concerned with, what they consider, the small shareholders and investors. They are the last to be paid if they receive anything once the secured and preferential creditors are repaid. I didn't want my investors to lose out, so I opted to call Thomas Scullion and invite him to the Shankly. Thomas is an accountant, so I figured the best way to regain his trust was to allow him complete access to my company records. Thomas spent days combing through the books, and once he was satisfied, he apologised for doubting me and shook my hand. It was clear to him I had not misappropriated any monies and that every penny was accounted for. From there, Thomas went to bat for me. He now knew the money had always been in the bricks and mortar which is why he helped me bring the other investors back on board. I’m pleased to say 96% of my investors are once again working with me. They see the model I created is profitable, and we’ve pulled together to rebuild and recoup their investments.

I understand you made a complaint to the UK’s press watchdog IPSO. Your complaint was made against the Liverpool Echo and cited Clause 1 (Accuracy) of the Editors’ Code of Practice. Cards on the table when you mentioned half-truths and cleverly worded misrepresentations were you speaking of the Echo?

We are heading into murky waters here, and my issues with the Echo precede Signature going into administration. How to put it? The fact that some reporters make the mistake of putting politics and personal relationships before best practice journalism is no surprise to me. It's not only Liverpool's recently removed officials that were economical with the truth; journalists can be too. I believe I was targeted by the Liverpool Echo and one reporter in particular. My perception is the reporter in question had a special interest in propagating negative press on me and the hardships I was facing where Signature Living is concerned. People in positions of power often develop relationships with a particular news outlet or a particular reporter. That becomes a problem if the person in a position of influence manipulates said outlet or reporter into becoming their attack dog. Of course, I am not saying that is what happened at the Echo. I am simply thinking aloud. When it comes to business and politics, our city is very incestuous, which can be a breeding ground for bias, and the thing about bias is it can creep in everywhere.

Targeted is a strong word. Can you substantiate that?

I can tell you this, between mid-2019 and mid-2020, the Echo ran more than eighty-five stories on myself and Signature Living, the bulk of which painted me in an extremely negative light. I fully understand that articles on disgruntled investors and Signature Living going into administration are in the public interest, but there's a fine line between public interest and harassment, and that’s where I take issue. Eighty-five stories, forty-eight of which were on the same four topics. That’s the same information spun forty-eight ways from the same news outlet. It just kept coming; it was relentless, I was down, and they went right on kicking me. There are thirty-five skeleton sites scattered around our city centre that have gone into some form of receivership, many of them owing millions of pounds to investors. I find it interesting none of them were the subject to the avalanche of press I was. After a time, I began to ask myself why and where reporters at the Echo draw the line between ethical journalism and sensationalising a person's misfortune for clicks.

Eyeballing the near loss of everything you’ve ever worked for will affect a person. How have the last two years changed you?

As a company expands, you delegate, and without realising it, you can become hyper-focused on the latest project or deliverable. The little things slide by, but little things have a way of accumulating, and before you know it, they’ve become significant. You find yourself miscommunicating with your front-line, in the trenches staff, and issues are brought to your attention at the last minute or worse still when it's far too late. I’ve re-engaged; I’ve taken my approach back to square one. I’m submerged in the business at every level; you can even find me serving behind the bar. There’s no process or job role in my company I’m not up to date with or willing to do myself. The buck stops with me, and I’m leading by example.

You realise you're Lawrence Kenwright. Hotelier extraordinaire, laden with awards and accolades. I can’t imagine walking into the Shankly and demanding you get me my Forbidden Flower!

Well, despite what some may believe, I’m not an arrogant man. I grew up in Walton, my father was a docker, and my mother worked in the local Co-op. I came up the hard way and fought for everything I've got. Where I’m from, a Trust Fund was lending a mate a tenner and hoping you’d get it back. Nothing was handed to me, so there’s no shame in getting you your Forbidden Flower. In all honesty, doing what some may consider menial tasks is grounding, which helps put things into perspective.

Lawrence Kenwright, co-founder of Signature Living.

You mentioned the effect the negative press had on your parents. How has your situation affected the rest of your family?

It turns out stigma is contagious, and parents, spouses and children all suffer when touched by it. My parents were embarrassed; it must have been hard knowing their boy was the topic of conversation between their neighbours and friends. Article after article left them so ashamed they isolated themselves for a time so they wouldn't be subject to the gossip. My wife, who is my rock, became stressed and unhappy. I'd never taken money out of the business, so when the proverbial hit the fan, there was a danger I wouldn't be able to take care of us financially. She couldn't understand why I hadn't put something aside for the family, why there was no safety net. We had a big blow-up, and though fleeting, I saw something like reproach in her eyes, and that shook me to my core. This has been incredibly awkward for my children too, but we pushed through as a family and have come out of what you refer to as a black spot stronger than ever. Now we’re all looking to the future.

Speaking of the future, what does that look like for you?

We will be expanding, which was always the intention. At one point, Covid meant I could no longer rely on tourists to fill our hotels. I had to rethink and reposition, so today's model is not that of your standard hotel's. We are not just about getting heads on pillows. We're now in the business of creating and housing memorable events and unique experiences, and the changes I've made have already been a massive success. Not to mention I've something coming to market that at this moment no other hotel provides, and it has the potential to be a game-changer. According to the Echo, everything is falling down around my ears. Strange, as the reality is, I opened two more hotels during the pandemic. I continued to develop a Grade II listed building in Mills Platting into eighty-six apartments, and I'm developing a 130-apartment project at 60 Old Hall Street. The future looks good more than good; in fact, I expect 2022 to be amazing.

As the interview ends, I begin to wonder if I have been charmed. Lawrence Kenwright is gritty bafta real. There's not an affectation in sight; I might like him. He takes out his phone, and the swiping and tapping begins. I can see I’m losing him to emails, upcoming phone calls and the 101 things he has in his head. I wonder if he’s comfortable enough to answer one last question for me, and then I bite the bullet. Lawrence, the death threats; I can’t let that go; can you tell me a little more? In an instant, he is back with me; he opens his mouth and closes it again; he nods, smiles and says, off the record? I sigh and reply I hate off the record, but if you must. The who, why, where, what and when Lawrence Kenwright goes on to tell me; leaves me open-mouthed and wide-eyed! His blow-by-blow puts me in mind of an editorial cartoon I saw recently. In it, a young boy says to his father; when I grow up, I want to go into organised crime, and the father asks local council or government?

Ludwig von Mises

(29 September 1881 – 10 October 1973

“There is no more dangerous menace to civilisation than a government of incompetent, corrupt or vile men”

Words by George~Carter Cunningham