Love, marriage and finding happiness after £5m divorce

Most of us may have resisted their gossamer allure, but mention of such decadent lingerie has become a near-essential prefix to the still inescapable subject of Robertson’s part in Scotland’s first 5 million divorce settlement, and now its diamond-studded sequel - her forthcoming marriage to Alastair Dickson, labelled our highest-paid corporate lawyer.

This is sex and shopping at its most scintillating. Which is why I had expected to be greeted by an archetypal vamp. Some exquisitely-lacquered, scarlet-taloned, size six fashionista, with the smoulder of Monroe and an edge harder than Manhattan. Blonde of course.

That much I got right. Belinda Robertson is indeed blonde. But the effect is more Meg Ryan than Monroe, and a large bandage covers one finger. "A skiing accident," she explains. "Really annoying. I can’t even swim."

Before we talk luxury fabrics, profit and loss or even red-hot romance, Robertson takes a conversational sprint around her favourite subject - fitness.

"It’s fitness that gives you energy," she says with evangelical zeal. "If you’re not fit, you get tired and slow down." She pauses fractionally, just long enough to convince me this inspirational address is of particular relevance to me. "A chap I worked with in London told me he always knew if I’d been swimming in the morning. If I had, I’d come into work all fired up, raring to go; my mind really sharp. If not, I’d warm up slowly."

Her first job was as a swimming pool games attendant. She recalls: "I was still waiting to become a student." But not a student of fashion or design. Her unlikely path to the cashmere crown was via Dunfermline College and a bachelor’s degree in physical education. Those slightly bossy school hockey captain tones could have remained exactly where they began, in Bearsden Academy, except for one small problem: She discovered she hated teaching.

"I’m a participator rather than a teacher. I found out very quickly that I didn’t want to be in the classroom. I wanted to find something exciting and dynamic that would give me a career path. But I didn’t know what that was..."

If this sounds vague enough to make a career adviser weep, the young Belinda Robertson was no airy-fairy dreamer. Her mother, Wendy Bannister, was an actress and model, her father a marketing consultant. But as a youngster she was unimpressed by the glamour of seeing her Mum on the Stanley Baxter show. "I wasn’t inspired by that at all," she says. "I was much more influenced by my dad. He was the businessman; I found that more interesting."

So her next job was with the marketing division of a telephone service company, en route to that lucky break. And she is adamant that luck does play a part in any entrepreneur’s success. The Americans may prefer to stress that the harder one works, the "luckier" one gets, but Robertson is more sanguine.

"You’re master of your own destiny, I agree, but there’s got to be luck there too. The right place, the right time, that particular person …

"And, yes, I think I was lucky that I happened one day to be part of a discussion about the cashmere industry and its problems. It took me down a route I’d never have thought of going down. It wasn’t: ‘There’s an industry that needs my help, I’m going to it.’ It wasn’t at all like that. I just had a genuine interest and I loved clothes. It’s not exactly difficult for a woman to love clothes."

And so the Robertson cashmere story began. She sketched a few designs herself, knew what she wanted was very different from the high-volume classics being produced in Hawick at the time (mid-80s), and took a few samples of her lighter, more fashion-conscious look to London where she won her first orders. It was, as they say, a steep learning curve.

That mixture of luck, determination, resilience and confidence in her own vision taught her both how to run a factory and that it was better to have someone else do that for her; how to design and market, and to delegate those two when necessary. She has watched cashmere goats being combed in Mongolia, negotiated lengthy contracts in Japan and South Korea, produced knitwear for couture houses such as Dior and Yves St Laurent, and presented her own label catwalk shows on both sides of the Atlantic. She is, in short, an international businesswoman.

And has it been easy? Well, hardly. Robertson may be one of the favourite mouthpieces for Scottish industry; continually sought for public comments on everything from taxation to education, but even her OBE for services to the textile industry did not prevent some very snide comments regarding her tenure on the board of Scottish Enterprise. Her company was too small to be relevant, one querulous detractor told the press after figures published in 2002 indicated that she had made no profit for five years.

"Fashion is not something you can turn round really quickly," Robertson replies. "It’s not a quick fix or quick money. Anyone who’s made it in this business has taken a good 15 years to get anywhere. So it hasn’t worried me. I know what I’m doing. This is not a nasty surprise, there have been some very large investments recently. We’re going into mail order, for example. The cost is substantial. So what do I do? Not go ahead because of the cost or do it because I know it’s going to generate income?"

She is speaking very quickly now, sounding a little annoyed. We talk about the "banana war" crisis which she describes as "one of the scariest times", and which had a negative impact on her US sales. But that is in the past. The present is a lot rosier, both in business terms and at a personal level.

After all, to put it crudely, she and her fianc are not exactly short of cash. They have homes in Mayfair, Edinburgh and Elie. Dickson’s take-home salary is said to exceed 1 million a year, and, one way or another, they are probably the most talked-about couple in the capital.

Robertson sighs. "I do find the gossip aspect of Edinburgh quite difficult. I probably live more quietly here because of that. It just amazes me how interested people are in your personal life …"

But it is rather an exciting personal life, is it not? She laughs. "Well, that’s only because everyone thinks my relationship with Alastair was on a short time-scale. It was four years. Divorce doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a slow deterioration between two people, not something sudden."

This is affirmed by a rather surprising interview which her ex-husband, Ian Robertson, the father of her two teenage daughters, gave last year when he admitted that his marriage had broken down irretrievably some six years earlier, when Belinda had been involved with someone else. As had he. Long hours, too much travel, and a life split between London and Edinburgh had exacerbated the deterioration of their relationship, he said. Though these are precisely the circumstances which Belinda shares with Alastair Dickson, who had been working in London Monday to Friday for a total of 14 years. It was his wife Josephine’s Court of Session petition which led to the estimated 5 million divorce settlement.

And, of course, to the usual amount of ill-feeling and anguish.

"The system itself is in need of review," says Robertson. "It causes so much tension and hostility between the parties. It creates enemies. Two sides. And that’s not how it started out for Ian and me. We had started out very amicably, but this is an adversarial, money-making process.

"Anyway, I’m glad it’s over. And it is well over. I’m not left with any ill-feeling. We have both moved on. Ian’s happy now. I think he’s got a new woman. He was always very much a quiet, stay-at-home Edinburgh man, while I was the typical Glaswegian - here, there, and everywhere."

She does not suggest that Dickson’s divorce has simmered into anything similarly amicable, nor will she confirm the 5 million settlement apart from admitting that a figure was agreed to end the horrendous, escalating legal bills. With such costs involved this must surely be a very grand, one-enchanted-evening affair.

"It wasn’t like that. I have known Alastair at a distance for many years. We both knew of each other and had some mutual friends. Then I bumped into him at the airport one day, and I started speaking to him. But it wasn’t suddenly I was going out with Alastair Dickson. I played squash with him, we met a few times for dinner and I introduced him to some of my friends in London. It happened slowly, over many months."

Planes do seem to be lucky for Belinda Robertson, as it was on a plane to New York that Dickson proposed, six months ago. They chose the emerald-cut flawless diamond she wears together. "He was very particular that he wanted a good quality stone," she adds, allowing the showroom light to scythe off it for a moment.

The wedding date is set for 7 May, the venue - fittingly enough for a Queen of Cashmere - Edinburgh Castle.

"We were going to have something very quiet, but we have both been through a very tough time - sometimes it was pretty horrific - and we’ve had so much support from friends, who then said, you can’t do this without us, we want to be there. So we eventually decided on the castle. We were keeping it quiet, and it was quite a long time before anybody knew. Just like when we got engaged. In fact like when we first got together we were together for ages before anybody knew."

And has she no thoughts of turning into a stay-at-home wife? "I wouldn’t say I haven’t occasionally thought about giving it all up. There are times when you do wonder what it would be like on the other side of the fence. But I know I’m the person I am because of work, and that gives me a dimension which I wouldn’t have if I was in the home all day. Besides, I like going out in the morning, having that purpose and focus. Just as I like going home at the end of the day and switching off."

Though not completely. Robertson admits that she can’t remember the last night she spent at home in London. "We are out every night. That’s our London lifestyle, and I love it. But it’s still quite controlled. I need my sleep, and I’m careful about how much I eat and drink. Though in London there are some really nice places to drink. Claridges, the Blue Bar … I find it hard to say no!

"But we go through different stages in life. First we really, really want to succeed. Then we’ve got to have things. Then maybe there’s a spiritual stage. I’ve been through all of it. The parties, the wanting to have wonderful things. I like to live more quietly now. Having dinner with Alastair on my own is the nicest thing I can think of. I’m growing up."

Is that the same as getting older? "I’m not afraid of aging," she insists. "We all have to evolve. I feel just the same as when I was 19, though I know I don’t look it. I’d like to age in an elegant way. You have to change your look and I think I’ve done that. No more very short mini-skirts. I suppose the only things that scare me about getting older are illness and injury.

"But I’m an optimist. So is Alastair. He still does the lottery. And why not?"

Why indeed?