The fool and his money

Sir Norman Wisdom lives in the Isle of Man but he hasn't taken advantage of the lower tax rate on the island. He's still legally resident in the UK and maintains a flat in Epsom, Surrey.

Sir Norman admits he's never had a head for money but he explains he'd rather not dispose of the flat because at the grand old age of 87 it can be tough trying to live out of a suitcase in hotels - he visits family in the UK quite a lot.

Fair enough, but if ever he decided to relinquish that flat he would find himself able to exploit a 20% tax ceiling in the Isle of Man (with no other surcharges) plus full mortgage interest relief.

And now that British Airways has taken over Manx airlines, the £309 return fare from London has dropped to just £75. Given that there is no capital gains or inheritance tax in Manx law, living there is an increasingly attractive proposition for the wealthy.

Not that Sir Norman's earning much these days. But he's not officially retired either - he insists he'll be making a film called Adam and Evil (which he's had on the boil for years) next spring. He has a financial advisor looking after his assets and he doesn't ever think about investments, funds or pension.

Sir Norman made the headlines in 1968 over his run-in with the Inland Revenue about silver bullion. "My case established a precedent in the High Court and I am now immortalised in the income tax textbooks as an important case study," he says jokingly.

Back then his advisers had persuaded him to buy silver with a guaranteed buy-back after one year as a means of protecting his assets against the devaluation of the pound. The unexpected bit came when his purchase coincided with the US treasury removing their price-fix support on the commodity - the value of silver shot up.

He had bought £200,000 worth of silver expecting to make a profit of 10%, but as it turned out he ended up with a 25% tax-free return after just one year. But the Inland Revenue was watching and claimed he owed it money.

His accountants resisted all the way to court, arguing that Sir Norman's activity hadn't been an adventure in trade because he was not a regular trader. Plus he had no idea the value was going to climb so high. Sir Norman won the case, but eight months later the Revenue took it to appeal and had the decision overturned. Suddenly he faced a hefty bill.

His life has been full of bad luck like that. As a child he was hit by his father, generally thrown about and eventually sent away from home. His mother had run away from the domestic violence and for a long time he had no other way of seeing her other than occasional meetings outside school in secret.

In later years his wife, Freda, walked out on him when his children were teenagers ("she left for someone taller and more good looking," is his stock explanation) and he never remarried.

Yet through it all he has shown a dogged determination typical of the character we all remember so fondly from his many films. At age 14, his first job was working as a bicycle delivery boy for 10 shillings a week at Liptons grocers in Deal. He threw himself into it and soon developed a reputation for being the fastest delivery boy in town.

Eventually a competitor offered him 12 shillings a week to join them and when he told Liptons the manager matched the price. Quick to see an opportunity, he sparked a bidding war between the two stores and finally settled for the top bid of 14 shillings. Six weeks later, he was out of work when his new manager bought a delivery van.

Sir Norman struggled after this, sailing to Argentina for a year as a cabin boy as well as spending time destitute, living on the street. It was only when he joined an army band at the age of 15 that his talent for performance was discovered. After leaving the army he began working in music halls working up, through a mix of luck and talent, to top billing with his comedy act.

His 19 films brought him appreciation the world over with an audience extending to Southeast Asia, Europe, South America, Russia, Albania and China. When England played a World Cup qualifying match in Albania, the crowds that greeted and cheered him were bigger than those that gathered for David Beckham - during the communist regime all western films other than his, were banned.

Today, sitting in his spacious and beautiful home, designed in Spanish villa style with a view over the rolling hills, it is hard to imagine that when he first found the plot it contained a run-down two-bedroom cottage owned by "two old codgers who were moving to an old people's home."

He snapped it up for £30,000 in 1980 and rented nearby while he had the whole thing demolished and built again to his own design.

"Its value varies," Sir Norman tells me, "between £650,000 and 1 shilling 8p." Then his face creases with laughter and he points a bony finger while almost doubling over. He never stops being the funny man.

Now I suffer in comfort

Lottery: If Sir Norman won £1m he'd use it to fund his Adam and Evil film project. He hopes to be putting it into production in the spring with a company in Brighton.

Greatest extravagance: His 10 year-old two-tone Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit (licence plate NMN 17), pictured above. "I don't have a driver - I don't want to pay someone else to drive my cars, I enjoy driving them myself too much."

Best buy: The little grey cap and ill-fitting suit he used in his many films as a costume. He bought it in in Wolverhampton for ten bob.

Worst buy: "I can't think of any. If I did buy anything that was useless, I'd think 'cobblers' and then forget about it."

Collects: "Only my cars". As well as the Roller he's got a BMW (licence plate NMN 16) and a Sylvester motorbike (licence plate 16 NMN).

Outlook: "I've got enough money to be able to suffer in comfort."

· Sir Norman Wisdom's updated biography, My Turn, is out now priced £16.99.