Slaying of a dragon: What’s made Duncan Bannatyne's brothers accuse him of snobbery and rewriting their family history? By Kathryn Knight Most celebrities find that their public profile attracts criticism and admiration in equal measure, and entrepreneur and star of Dragons' Den Duncan Bannatyne is no exception. Nonetheless, had he been browsing the social networking site Facebook this week, the 60- year-old would have been dismayed to find a new club dedicated to his vilification. Alongside a picture which shows him clutching a rather toxic-looking red cocktail while staring moodily at the camera, the 'I hate Duncan Bannatyne' club makes its mission all too clear. As the founder states: 'I can't stand him and I need help to take this t*t off the TV.' So far so typical, you might think. But where this rather public anti-fan club differs is that of the first members to join it, two share the Bannatyne surname. Entrepreneur and star of Dragons' Den Duncan Bannatyne. For the Bannatynes, one incident has stirred up resentments to disastrous effect, and it comes in the shape Duncan's autobiography Sandy Bannatyne and Bill Bannatyne are Duncan's younger brothers, but this has not stopped them adding their own comments to the site. 'Such an excellent group and I'm proud to be his first family member to join,' Sandy wrote earlier this week, followed shortly afterwards by Bill, proffering a cheery 'hello to all' as the second member of the Bannatyne clan to join. It must, surely, be a joke? No family would want to display their warfare quite so openly. But, the Mail has discovered, this is not a jolly family prank gone too far, but the result of deep-rooted ongoing fraternal antipathy: neither Sandy nor Bill, who were once close to Duncan, have spoken to their elder brother for years, a situation that has little prospect of changing. 'I've no intention of ever speaking to him again,' Bill declared in an interview this week. 'The only time I will ever be in his company again is at our mother's funeral, and I will go out of my way to ensure I don't speak to him there either.' Strong - and bitter - feelings, ones that have bubbled under over the years as they do in all families, with their jealousies and petty rivalries. For the Bannatynes, however, one single incident has stirred up resentments to disastrous effect, and it comes in the shape of the 2006 publication of Duncan's autobiography, Anyone Can Do It: From An Ice Cream Van To Dragons' Den. In the book, he denounces his siblings for a lack of ambition, as well as describing a poverty-stricken childhood full of deprivation. He was teased, he recalls, because his parents couldn't afford to buy him a proper school uniform, while only his paper round allowed his younger siblings treats like ice creams. It is a gloomy portrait, and not one Bill or his other brothers and sisters recognise. 'None of us could believe what he was saying,' Bill reveals now. 'It was an insult to us all, but particularly to the memory of our father, who died 20 years ago and who isn't here to defend himself. 'Our mother was very upset as well. It was like he was ashamed of where he had come from, when in fact we were all lucky to have the loving upbringing we had. None of us ever went without.' Duncan's brother Bill Ballantyne Today, undoubtedly, a vast financial gulf separates Duncan from his working-class childhood - and his siblings. His multi-million-pound health club business has brought him a property portfolio including a luxury home in Darlington and a £3million villa in the South of France. Bill, meanwhile, lives with his 19- year-old daughter Jennifer in a twobedroom former council flat in the small Fen town of Whittlesey, into which he moved following his 2006 divorce from wife Sandra, the mother of his three children. Money is tight, particularly now, since Bill recently lost his job as a forklift truck driver. 'It's only a small mortgage, but I'm going to struggle to pay it,' he says. 'But I won't be out of employment for long - I'm a grafter. I'm not motivated by money like my brother is. I just want enough to be comfortable.' Quite what the definition of 'comfortable' is, it seems, is one of the issues at the heart of this sorry tale of family feuding. For many years the family were close, their bonds forged in childhood in the town of Clydebank, near Glasgow. One of five brothers and two sisters - Duncan was second eldest, while Bill was the fifth child to come along - Bill recalls the family as a 'close and happy' one, raised strictly but lovingly by parents William and Jeanie. 'Duncan talks about a two-up twodown and maybe it was small by his standards today, but in fact it was a spacious three-bedroom property,' Bill says. 'There was 20 years between all the kids, so we weren't all there at the same time, although the brothers shared a bedroom. But it was spotlessly clean and we never went without. We had shoes on our feet, clothes on our back and food on the table. 'Mum and Dad were grafters - Dad worked as a metal worker for Singer sewing machines and Mum worked as a cleaner and at any other job she could find. On Sundays, Dad would cook us all a big breakfast and then polish our school shoes.' As the second eldest, Duncan was one of the first to leave home, joining the Navy at 16. Although he signed up for 11 years, he was dishonourably discharged at 19 after threatening to throw an officer off a jetty and returned home determined to forge his own path in life. 'Duncan and I grew closer when he came home. He set up a taxi company and I would come and do odd jobs for him. We got to know each other well and I would say at that time we were closest,' Bill recalls. Already, too, his brother was displaying the steely ambition that would help him amass a fortune. 'He was very fond of saying that you would never make your millions working for someone else. He was ambitious, always looking for new opportunities.' As the years went by, the siblings scattered around the United Kingdom, but all remained close, looking on with pride, Bill says, as their brother's entrepreneurial streak started to reap dividends. 'He obviously had flair and by the end of his 30s he was doing really well. We were pleased for him - in fact, I can honestly say that until two years ago I was very proud of him,' says Bill. Nor was Duncan averse to sharing some of the fruits of his success with his family. When Sandy, the youngest Bannatyne sibling, got married 15 years ago, Bill recalls, his wedding present came in the form of a shiny new Vauxhall sports car. 'When we arrived at the wedding reception it was parked on the drive,' Bill says. 'It was ex-demo so not brand new - Duncan always had an eye for a bargain - but it was still a lovely gesture.' Hit TV show: Dragons' Den judges Theo Paphitis, Peter Jones, Deborah Meaden, Duncan Bannatyne and Richard Farleigh The same year, the rest of the family were also given a gift in the form of a £5,000 cheque each - although it came, Bill says, with a rather bizarre condition attached. 'Duncan said we could only cash it if we attended a party he was throwing in honour of our mother's 70th birthday. It was odd, not to mention rather controlling. We went to the party not because we wanted the cash, but because it was Mum's birthday. It all just smacked a bit of "I've got money and you haven't, so I'll call the shots".' Aside from that cash gift, and another unexpected cheque for £3,000 at Christmas 1996, Bill says, he has never received any other money from his brother. 'He goes on about giving us thousands as if he's Lord Bountiful, but that's simply not true. He's also said that any money he's given me I've just spent on lager, which is just absolutely not true.' There were, too, many happy family occasions, including a party four years ago for Jeanie's 80th birthday. 'We booked into a hotel in Scotland as a surprise - I drove everyone up in a minibus, although Duncan made his own way - and we took over a corner of the restaurant. Mum was thrilled,' Bill says In spring 2006, the entire family also attended the 40th birthday celebrations of Duncan's then girlfriend Jo, with whom he had embarked on a relationship after leaving his wife, Gail. 'He had taken over a warehouse and got the Eighties band Human League along to play to the 200 guests,' Bill recalls. 'It was an absolutely fantastic night and we all had a great time.' Bill (left) and Duncan at their brother Sandy's wedding in 1994 It was memorable for another reason: it was to be the last occasion the entire family would be together, although none knew it at the time. Indeed when, a few weeks later, an invitation to the December nuptials of Duncan and Jo came through the post, Bill assumed it would be another happy occasion to add to the archive of family memories.