Proof that you can’t buy your dreams... even with £161, 653, 000
Generous to a fault, but Britain’s biggest lottery winners courted controversy by very publicly donating millions to SNP... while privately their relationship soured
THROUGH a blaze of flashlights, Colin and Chris Weir puckered up and kissed yet again – before gazing awkwardly at the phalanx of national news photographers. ‘One more kiss for luck,’ came the shout. ‘Oh, we’ve had lots of luck,’ chuckled Mrs Weir, as she pressed heavily on her walking stick before sinking once more into her husband’s embrace.
Many who observed their first faltering steps in the public glare that day eight years ago could not deny themselves a smile at their good fortune. They were surely just about the luckiest people in Britain, having scooped £161,653,000 with a EuroMillions ticket. It remains the UK’s biggest ever jackpot win.
Yet, as the champagne flowed at the five-star hotel where the Weirs were unveiled to the world, there was also a nagging sense this couple were now at very real risk of falling apart; the money would either make them or break them, said those who had seen it all before.
Their every move would be dissected, every friendship watched, every utterance pored over, every purchase analysed. It would take a strong couple to withstand such scrutiny. And this jolly-faced pair looked anything but up to the job.
Physically, they already looked like they were coming apart at the seams. Mr Weir, a former STV cameraman, and his retired psychiatric nurse wife had both been forced to give up work early and nursed each other through years of ill health, living ‘within their means’ before their Lucky Dip win gave them a glimpse of a different future.
Mrs Weir said at the time: ‘We were so buzzed. We were so full of adrenaline we couldn’t sleep. We talked to each other about how amazing this was. We were tickled pink with the whole notion of winning so much money. We just couldn’t believe it.’
There was talk of the money ‘not changing them’ – but the spending soon began. With annual interest alone of £5.6million, the temptation to become modern-day Marie Antoinettes must have proved almost irresistible.
But the public, divided on the wisdom of anyone winning such huge jackpots, were just as split over some recipients of the Weirs’ largesse. The most contentious came at the height of the 2014 independence referendum debate, when the lifelong Nationalists donated £3.5million to Yes Scotland and £4.5million to the SNP – although the party repaid £1million. Many were angered by the size of the donations, believing they threatened the democratic process.
The gigantic win may have eased their financial pain and even improved their health, but it didn’t buy them their political dream. Now, it seems, it has failed to buy them lasting happiness either.
This week, the Weirs issued a statement confirming the rumours that have swirled around their native Largs, Ayrshire, for some time – that their marriage has become the latest victim of the lottery curse.
Nothing specific caused the split, we are assured, it is simply that, just as their bank balances were steadily accruing interest, they were steadily losing interest in each other. They simply drifted apart. No use crying over spilt millions – just saddle up the horses with their fair share of the
remaining spoils and mosey on back to their respective mansions. The exact amounts will be for the lawyers, of course, but it will perhaps be a more manageable sum to comprehend – and less likely to do damage to the other form of union.
Each will still have the consolation of tens of millions of pounds – far more than either dared hope when their numbers 17, 19, 38, 42 and 45 and Lucky Stars 9 and 10 came up that Tuesday evening in July, 2011.
Then, they vowed not to leave their ‘nice wee’ three-bedroomed home in Largs. Mr Weir insisted he had no intention of replacing his ‘reliable’ Suzuki car, although he followed up by admitting the inevitable: ‘This money brings about a whole new life for us and our family.’
Chance had handed them the keys to a world of unimaginable luxury and, human nature being what it is, they indulged their every whim – international travel, yachts and private jets.
After their win, Mrs Weir said: ‘We have both always wanted to see the Great Wall of China and Colin would love to stand at the foot of Ayers Rock in Australia.’ But she added: ‘We love our town and we love our house. We have no plans to move. Except we may buy a second – or a third – home.’
IN fact, they bought many homes. They bought homes for their son Jamie, now 30, who was working in a call centre, and daughter Carly, 32, who was studying photography. They bought homes for their close friends.
And they moved out of their own ‘nice wee’ three-bedroom home into the rather less wee Knock House – a mansion set in 23 acres of gardens and woods in the hills above Largs, complete with cinema, pool and stables. They bought it for £850,000 before selling it in 2016 to an overseas trust in a £1.4million deal.
The Suzuki went too, replaced by a £160,000 fleet of cars for the couple, their family and friends.
Like so many winners, they wanted to share their good fortune. While others might have used such wealth to escape from their roots, the Weirs chose to stay and invest. In the first 12 months, they spent £5million buy
ing houses for close friends and setting up bursaries for talented youngsters – as well as giving cash to the local football team, nursing home and sports centre.
Instead of selling their old £220,000 house, the pair gifted it to a young mother who lived next door with her parents. They are thought to have bought five homes, at £230,000 each, for friends in a new development. Mrs Weir, the second of six children, also bought properties for all her siblings.
Stories of their kindness are wellrehearsed by locals: the £50,000 sponsorship for Lee Craigmile to complete a four-year course at the Florence Academy of Art; £102,000 for the National Sports Training Centre at Inverclyde; £750,000 for an all-weather artificial pitch at Largs Thistle. Football-mad Mr Weir became honorary president.
Former club president Douglas Bennie said of Mr Weir: ‘The impression I got of him is that he prefers to sit in the background and deal with things quietly and in a low-key fashion. I haven’t had much dealings with him other than about the club, but to me he seems exactly the same as he was before.
‘He doesn’t have much to say for himself but when he does say something, it’s worth listening to. I think he’s a perfectly nice bloke and has stayed a perfectly nice bloke.’
The couple gave £100,000 to help save the ailing Waverley paddle steamer, under threat due to increased running costs.
They also set up the Weir Charitable Trust to fund projects promoting health, animal welfare and public participation in sport.
Mrs Weir, now 62, said at the time: ‘I believe things do happen for a reason – and we also believe that with great wealth come great responsibilities.’
She could equally well have been referring to the couple’s loyalty to the cause of Scottish independence, which would expose them to widespread condemnation.
The son of a senior civil servant, Mr Weir, now 71, worked as an STV cameraman and studio manager for 23 years and stood as a Nationalist candidate in Ayr at the 1987 general election – coming fourth. He worked with Alex Salmond on party political broadcasts during the 1980s, when the politician was the SNP’s publicity vice-convener.
He gave up his job to care for Chris, his second wife, who had been forced to stop working due to neurological problems. When she eventually returned to work in the NHS, he was increasingly incapacitated by rheumatoid arthritis. In the three years before their win in 2011, neither worked and it was doubtful if either would again.
But Mr Weir’s links to the seat of power allowed Mr Salmond to treat them as if they were old mates following the jackpot win. Within a few weeks, the Weirs arrived for ‘talks’ in Bute House, the First Minister’s official residence. Four days later, on September 13, 2011, they donated their first half-million each to the SNP for the referendum campaign. By 2014, the Weirs were, by a mile, the two biggest financial contributors to the campaign for independence. Indeed, they were easily the biggest political donors in Britain.
To many, it scarcely seemed credible that something as random as a lottery win could change the course of a nation’s history.
YET seven numbers on a Lucky Dip ticket transformed the Weirs into one of Scotland’s power couples. From a podgy, rather poorly couple shuffling quietly into their twilight years, they became financial titans ready to bankroll their personal political agenda.
The disquiet at Better Together was palpable. ‘The easiest way to describe it is it simply leaves me a bit uneasy,’ said Tory MSP Alex Johnstone. ‘The thing that has always concerned me about the Weirs is the process behind these donations. Is it entirely their idea?’
All political parties are up to the same tricks to attract big ticket donors, he accepted, but the circumstances surrounding the Weirs’ case were ‘absolutely unique’.
An SNP spokesman said quietly, and not a little smugly: ‘Colin and Chris Weir are lifelong SNP supporters
and we’re grateful to have their backing.’
After the Nationalists lost the independence referendum, the Weirs returned to their other works and their first love – buying houses. Having decided they could do better than Knock House, they bought £3.5million Frognal House, near Troon, after a ten-minute viewing. It is believed to be the fifth biggest house sale ever in Scotland.
Built in 1909 for a tea planter, it was bought from chef and hotelier Bill Costley who said he almost ‘walked out with four pairs of underpants’ after the Weirs bought the house and practically everything in it almost on the spot.
Their own wellbeing seemed to improve, with Mr Weir looking dapper in well-cut suits, while his wife appeared considerably healthier and more mobile after an apparently successful diet and exercise programme, involving a chef and personal trainer.
Given their penchant for property, it was fitting documents revealed last August showed Mr Weir had signed over Frognal House to his wife and bought a £1.5million waterfront pad nearby. The split is amicable, this week’s statement said, and will lead to divorce.
For a couple prepared to throw sackfuls of money to engineer the messiest and most destructive of political divorces, perhaps their own parting of the ways might provide them with a moment of reflection. As any lottery winner will tell you, be careful what you wish for.