Gordon Ramsay (18 page)

‘Come on. We’re off for something to eat,’ Gordon told him. The two old mates headed for the super-chic restaurant on the top floor of Harvey Nichols in Knightsbridge to catch up and talk about the problem. While Gordon later said that David had seemed ‘agitated and under pressure’ at the start of the meal, he added that both of them had soon relaxed and the meeting had gone well. ‘I said some staff members were not particularly happy with his style of management and we dealt with it immediately. David totally accepted responsibility and he spoke about the future.’

But the pair would never see each other again.

Within 24 hours of leaving the restaurant, David had climbed up some scaffolding, broken into an exclusive and well-guarded block of flats in Chelsea and started smashing windows with a golf club in a bizarre and random rage. He knew no one at the apartment building, had never been known to have visited it before and had no real reason even to have walked past it on the night in question. His presence there would be one of the many unsolved mysteries of the tragic evening.

Residents who tried to tackle the chef after calling the police said David wasn’t violent when they approached him – but that he wasn’t rational either. And for reasons that can never be explained he smashed yet another window, climbed through it on to the first of a series of ledges outside and tried to swing from a drainpipe on to the roof of a neighbouring building. At this point, he slipped and fell more than 50 feet on to the ground of the block’s lower basement. Having suffered a broken neck and huge damage to his skull and back in the fall, David was
pronounced dead by an ambulance crew at 12.54am. He was just 31.

‘We’ve found a wallet. Can you come down with us to Horseferry Road and identify the body?’ That’s what Gordon remembers the police saying when they turned up at his restaurant the next day with the news of what had happened. In total shock, Gordon had to say no. ‘I just couldn’t do that,’ he says. He asked his father-in-law, Chris, the company’s finance director, to accompany the police instead. The entire staff at Gordon Ramsay then waited, tense and tearful, to hear if their absent head chef was indeed the man lying dead in the public mortuary in Westminster.

When they found out that it was, the whole company was in shock. ‘David was the inspiration behind the launch of Amaryllis in Glasgow and went on to win Glasgow’s only Michelin star. His loss will be felt by all of us who have worked with him,’ the company said in its official statement on David’s death.

Gordon himself went further. ‘I am completely shocked and devastated by the news. David has worked for me for the past eight years and was not only a brilliant protege but also a friend. Everyone is deeply saddened by the loss of such a talented colleague. He was one of the most gifted Scottish chefs to ever work in my kitchen. He had remarkable grounding and great skills but also real vision, all of which combined to make him a natural leader and a great chef.’ As a friend, Gordon said David had also been fiercely loyal and utterly protective. ‘He was full-on, but if you were in the street and someone pushed you he would jump in. He wouldn’t think twice about asking
any questions. Losing him is such a huge waste of talent and energy.’

For Gordon and his colleagues, there were more shocks to come, however, most notably as medical details emerged about the manner in which David had died. Doctors said both alcohol and cocaine were present in David’s blood on the night of his death, and that he had suffered a rare and bizarre reaction to the drug. The medical experts said David had suffered a psychotic response known as excited delirium – something that can occur whether you are a new or regular cocaine user and whether you take a large or small amount of the drug. ‘The typical scenario is rapid onset of paranoia, followed by aggression towards objects, particularly glass,’ the Westminster coroner, Dr Paul Knapman, said at David’s inquest, before recording a verdict of accidental death.

Gordon, who had been called to speak at the inquest, was still trying to come to terms with the loss and with the news that his best friend, like his brother, had been a drug user. He was also trying to comfort and support David’s previous partners, Fiona and Pauline, who were now having to raise the young chef’s children on their own. Last but by no means least, Gordon was tormented by the fact that he should have been able to see that his friend was in trouble and should have been able to help him. ‘It has been a tough, emotional six months and when you are close to someone, like I was with David, you do of course take on more responsibility. He was tremendous, we spent so much time together, but I never saw any signs that he had a problem with drugs. If I had, I would have sent him to rehab straight away. I do feel guilt and I am fighting
internally as to why I couldn’t spot it. If I’d done so, then maybe I could have stopped it from happening or attempted to stop it, put him in treatment. David had won his first Michelin star within seven months of starting at Amaryllis and he was thriving. He had a tremendous career in front of him …’ Gordon’s voice tailed off, and for once he was silent, overcome by the waste of a wonderful life and a true friend.

It was to be almost a year before he could bring himself to press the delete button on his mobile phone and erase the number of the man he had nicknamed Hector and with whom he had shared so much. And in that year the issue of drugs would come back to haunt him time and time again – normally at the behest of newspaper reporters. ‘Since the news about David became public the tabloids have been crawling all over the place,’ Gordon said sadly. ‘One of my sommeliers has been offered money for a story – any story. Reporters have been rifling through the bins looking for drug-related paraphernalia. They’re saying, “Is Gordon Ramsay pushing his chefs too far?” They want to find a problem and attack us for it.’

But Gordon and his company continued to be notoriously tough on drugs. ‘We have zero tolerance of drugs and they do not enter any professional kitchen that we run. Anyone found taking any form of illegal substance would be immediately sacked.’ He also said he was considering ways to introduce compulsory drug testing for new employees as part of their interview process – though legal restrictions ultimately made this a non-starter.

Other top chefs and industry sources lined up to say drugs were rife in restaurant kitchens, however. In the bestselling
book
Kitchen Confidential
, Michelin-starred chef and self-confessed former drug user Anthony Bourdain told some hair-raising stories of the role drink and drugs played in professional kitchens. Then, shortly after David’s death, an investigation by
Caterer and Hotelkeeper
claimed that many senior cooks actually encourage young staff to take drugs to help them deal with the hours and the high pressure. The magazine’s survey of 1,000 hospitality workers also found that 40 per cent of respondents said they had seen colleagues take illegal drugs during working hours, while some 59 per cent said they had seen colleagues drink to excess while on duty in kitchens. A separate survey said a quarter of all accidents in professional kitchens were alcohol-related.

Meanwhile, a staggering 99 per cent of
Caterer and Hotelkeeper
’s respondents said they thought alcohol in particular was a problem for their industry, to which Peter Kay of the alcohol education charity the Ark Foundation said, ‘The only thing that surprises me about that figure is what the other one per cent were thinking.’ The Ark Foundation, set up by a former executive chef of the Ritz Hotel in London, was unequivocal in its stance. ‘There is without doubt an alcohol and drug problem in this industry. The culture of the hard-drinking chef used to seem appealing. Now it needs to be addressed,’ it declared.

Gordon, horrified that young people could risk throwing away their future by becoming addicted to drugs, was one of what felt like a minority of voices decrying the trend. Bob Cotton, chief executive of the British Hospitality Association, was among the few others who seemed to be on his side. ‘Long hours are an excuse, not a
reason for the rise in drug-taking. Lots of people work long hours and they don’t take drugs,’ said Cotton.

Gordon could not have agreed more and he revealed a surprisingly paternal attitude to his staff. ‘People say you need drugs to provide the energy for this job. It’s the biggest load of rubbish. The pressure does not drive anyone to having a dependency on chemicals. It does not drive anyone to taking coke. I’m sure there are drugs in the industry. But I don’t smoke, I don’t drink. I go to the gym three days a week and I run 40 miles. When I see young guys coming into my kitchen, I do fear for them but I say to them all, “If you’re not here to enjoy it later in life, what’s the point?”’

Tragically, while trying to win the hearts and minds of his colleagues and the catering industry, Gordon found out that he was losing the latest battle to save his brother. The man who had been spared a prison sentence a year ago, who had said he was clear of drugs and ready for a fresh start without them, had lapsed yet again. Unknown to Gordon, he was also in serious trouble with the police. He had been arrested for non-payment of past fines and breaking his probation order and sentenced to three months in prison in Exeter. And the first Gordon knew about it was when a newspaper reporter rang him to ask for a comment.

When he was released from prison, Ronnie got a job with a cross-Channel lorry firm based in Plymouth and in his regular phone calls to Gordon he said he was once more determined to settle down and stay off drugs. But Gordon got the shock of his life when the brothers finally met up for the first time in more than a year. The setting
was hardly ideal. Gordon had just come back from a business trip to Australia and was working in the kitchens in London one Monday morning when the phone rang. His mother had been rushed to hospital after a suspected heart attack. Gordon dropped everything and drove to Somerset to see her.

By the time he arrived, Helen was on her way to making a full recovery and was sitting up in bed looking pretty good. The same could not be said of Ronnie. ‘He was thin, gaunt, with black rings under his eyes and hunched shoulders, all shrivelled up like an old man,’ Gordon says. And as they left the hospital Gordon knew he had to keep his distance once more. It would have been all too easy to believe his brother’s promises, perhaps pay for a new course of detox or rehab, and hope that this time it would somehow be different. Instead, Gordon tried to harden his heart. He wished Ronnie luck and said goodbye. For once, the younger man would have to sink or swim.

Back in London, Gordon had enough new challenges to face. The good news was that his empire still seemed to be growing. Petrus had long since been an established part of London’s fine-dining world and was about to move into a new home at the five-star Berkeley Hotel in Knightsbridge, where it would be joined by another Ramsay venture, the Boxwood Cafe. Meanwhile, Gordon’s unofficial takeover of London’s other luxury hotels was also gaining ground. He now had his eye on the dining rooms of the Savoy.

The Savoy Grill was one of the most formal and established of the capital’s restaurants. Winston Churchill’s favourite table, number four, had been left empty for a
year after his death as a mark of respect. More recently, media figures such as Sir David Frost saw it as their home from home and it was equally popular with politicians and chief executives. While courting couples had sealed their love in the romantic setting of Gordon’s original Aubergine, almost exclusively male FTSE 100 bosses sealed their billion-pound takeover bids at the Savoy. Tradition, discretion and reliability were its watchwords. Fine dining, however, had never been seen as much of a priority there. When he and Marcus Wareing took over the Savoy Grill, Gordon admitted he couldn’t believe that such a famous, long-established restaurant had never been awarded a single Michelin star. He and Marcus changed that within a year – while retaining the faith, and the custom, of all the media, business and political figures who filled its tables.

So much activity helped Gordon take his mind off what had happened to David Dempsey and what was still happening to his brother. But it wasn’t enough to blot out the other storms on the horizon. The first one broke when Gordon admitted his triumphant move back to Glasgow with Amaryllis had ended in failure. Stars including Kylie Minogue, Robbie Williams, Rod Stewart and Elton John had eaten at One Devonshire Gardens and the restaurant was packed almost every Friday and Saturday night, for which there was a six-week, 800-strong waiting list. The picture was very different on every other night of the week, however, when staff could almost outnumber diners. ‘Opening a restaurant in Scotland was a dream and we got off to a phenomenal start with two years of great trading,’ Gordon explains. ‘But then it got a little bit more fancy, a
little bit more pompous and customers were disappearing. I certainly learned a hell of a lot from it.’

He had also spent a hell of a lot on it. His company’s figures showed the restaurant was losing around £200,000 a year, and Gordon calculated that in total he had lost £500,000 on the venture. So, however much it hurt his pride, he knew he had to pull the plug. ‘Amaryllis was very dear to his heart and the decision was taken very reluctantly,’ his spokeswoman said. The closure took immediate effect and caught everyone by surprise, among them Justin Timberlake, who had checked in to One Devonshire Gardens just days before. The singer was one of many people left looking for a new party venue when Amaryllis locked its doors for good.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the only Ramsay restaurant that wasn’t going to live up to its hype. Shortly afterwards, complications over a lease and rumours of poor business would shut down Fleur, another London restaurant that Gordon had been linked to. And when that news broke the critics lined up to suggest the man himself could be in trouble.

At the start of 2004, the latest accounts showed the financial health of Gordon Ramsay Holdings had lurched into the red – from a £145,000 profit to a £1-million loss in just 12 months. A lawsuit from a former employee at Gordon’s restaurant at the Connaught, who claimed that he had been forced to lift heavy weights while suffering from a hernia, added to a sudden rash of negative publicity and depressing headlines. So had Gordon spread himself too thinly, as many catering insiders had predicted? Was he trying to do too much, to prove too many points and win
too many battles? If he was, the free advice handed out by a variety of newspaper pundits and columnists was that he should get back to basics. He was told to keep his head down, focus on the food and try to weather the storms.