The plain English version

Owning a business one day — without any money

Your dad's been looking into whether you could buy a business. There's a long version full of jargon. This is the short version, in normal words, with nothing left out and nothing dressed up.

The whole thing in one paragraph

Get a sales job at a caravan or motorhome dealer where the owner is getting on and has nobody to take over. Be very good at it. After a year or two, ask him for a slice of the company — not to buy it, but the right to buy it later at what it's worth today. If you then make it worth more, that extra is yours. Eventually you buy the rest by paying him out of the profits, over years.

That's it. No loan. No deposit. Nothing you have to put up.

It probably won't work at the first place you try. It might not work at the second. That's fine, and further down I've explained exactly why it's still worth doing — because trying costs you absolutely nothing.

First — you're worth more than you think

This only works because of something you've already done. Last year, at 20 years old:

155

Caravans you sold in 2025

~£2.7m

Of stock, out of the door

25 v 21

Your best month against target

Top band

Of your employer's own bonus scale

Those aren't your numbers to be modest about — they're on the company's own commission statements and in the work WhatsApp group. They're proof, not a claim.

Here's why that matters more than money

Picture a bloke of 62 who's run a caravan dealership for thirty years. He wants to retire. His kids aren't interested.

His problem isn't finding someone with money. It's finding someone who can do what he does — which, in a dealership, is sell caravans and keep the customers happy. That's the bit that walks out of the door when he stops.

You can do that bit. You've got the numbers to prove you can do it better than most people twice your age. To the right person, that's worth far more than a deposit.

The catch: that's only true in your industry. Selling 155 caravans means everything to a caravan dealer and absolutely nothing to a bloke selling a cleaning company in Spain. So this only works in leisure vehicles, cars, or something similar where you're already an insider.

What an "option" actually is

This word is going to come up constantly, so here it is in language you already use every day.

You already sell options

A customer likes a van. He's not ready to commit. So he puts £500 down to hold it at the agreed price while he thinks about it.

If he walks away, he loses the £500 — but nothing else. He's not on the hook for the van.

If he comes back, he pays the price you agreed, even if you've since put the price up.

That's an option. The right to buy something later at a price fixed now, without being forced to.

Now swap the van for a whole business, and the customer for you.

You get the right to buy the business — or a slice of it — at what it's worth today, at some point in the next few years. If it does badly, you walk away and lose nothing much. If it does well, you buy at the old price and pocket the difference.

And here's the bit that makes it worth doing: you'd be the one making it do well. You'd be buying at the old price, a business you personally made more valuable.

The words people will use at you

None of these are complicated. They're just dressed up. When someone uses one, this is what they actually mean.

Share options / EMI scheme

The main one. The boss gives you the right to buy a slice of the company later, at today's price. Costs you nothing to be given. "EMI" is just the government's official version, set up so you pay less tax. About 18,570 UK companies already run one, so it's completely normal — his accountant will know what it is.

Shares / equity

Owning a slice. 10% of the shares means you own a tenth of the business and get a tenth of what it's worth if it's ever sold.

Vesting

You earn it gradually instead of getting it all at once — say a quarter each year for four years. Owners like it because it stops you taking the shares and leaving. It's reasonable. Don't fight it.

Vendor finance / seller finance / deferred consideration

Three names for one thing: the owner lets you pay him over several years out of the money the business makes, instead of all up front. It's how most small businesses actually change hands — because buyers rarely have the cash.

Earn-out

Part of the price only gets paid if the business does well after you take over. Good for you — if it goes badly, you pay less.

Goodwill

The part of the price that isn't stock, tools or the building. It's the customers, the reputation, the name. It's also the part that can vanish when the old owner leaves — which is exactly why they need you.

EBITDA

Say it "ee-bit-dah". Roughly: the profit, before tax and a few other costs are knocked off. Sellers love quoting it because it's the biggest, nicest-looking number available. Treat it as the beginning of a conversation, not a fact.

Due diligence (or just "diligence")

Checking the business is actually what they say it is before you commit. Same as putting a van on a ramp before you take it in part-exchange.

Section 431 election

Sounds terrifying, is a form. If you're ever given shares, this gets signed within 14 days or you can get a nasty tax bill years later. You don't need to understand it — you just need to say to the accountant: "is there a 431 election to sign?" You'll sound like you know exactly what you're doing.

Personal guarantee — the one that matters

You personally promise to pay a debt if the business can't. Not the company — you. Your money, your car, and one day your house.

Never sign one. Not for any business, at any price, however good it looks. If someone says "it's just a formality" or "everyone signs these" — that is exactly the moment to say you need to take advice first, and leave. There are already several of these running in our family and they are the reason this rule isn't negotiable.

The plan, in order

Get a sales job. Now.

This is the only urgent bit and it's the same thing you were doing anyway. Money coming in beats everything else on this page. Nothing here is a reason to be fussy or to slow down.

Pick the sector deliberately, even if it pays slightly less at the start.

Leisure vehicles, cars, or similar high-value stuff people buy face to face. This is the one real trade-off in the whole plan. Outside that world your track record counts for nothing and you'd be starting again.

Keep your eyes open, say nothing.

Is the owner near retiring? Are his kids in the business? Who'd run it if he stopped tomorrow? You'll learn all of it in six months just by working there. Do not mention buying anything. At this stage it would sound daft, and you only get one go at that conversation.

Be undeniable for a year.

This is the actual work, and there's no shortcut in it. Sell more than anyone else there. Turn up. Be the one he relies on. Every month of that makes the next conversation easier.

Ask about a share scheme — as a staying-here conversation, not a buying conversation.

Around the year mark. Small ask, tied to your sales. Loads of owners have never even heard of EMI and their accountant has never brought it up. This is a normal thing employees ask for; it isn't cheeky.

Then, and only then, ask about the future.

Once you're a shareholder and the numbers behind you are undeniable, you can ask what happens when he wants to stop. By then you're not a lad asking for a favour. You're already a part-owner asking about the rest. Completely different conversation.

Why the order matters so much

The slice you're given in step 5 costs you nothing — but in three years it's worth something real, because you made it worth something.

That slice becomes the deposit you never had. When you go to buy the rest, you're not a 21-year-old with nothing. You're a part-owner who already runs the sales side, buying out his retiring business partner. Which is roughly the easiest thing in the world to get financed, and the exact opposite of where you're standing today.

What to actually say

Two conversations, about eighteen months apart. Don't mix them up — that's the single biggest way this gets wasted.

Now — walking into a dealer with your CV

"Hi — is the owner about? I'm Henry. I sold caravans at Burton for two years — 155 units last year, about £2.7 million. I'm looking for the next place to do that, and I'd rather hand this over in person than disappear into a website."

Then shut up. Seriously — stop talking and let him respond. Not one word about buying anything. The number does all the work: it's what makes him think this one's different. In eighteen months it's the same number that makes him think successor. Let him get there on his own.

A year or so in — once you've earned it

"Can I ask you something straight — have you thought about what happens to this place when you want to stop?

I'm not asking for a reason you'd mind. I've had a year here, I know the customers, and I'd rather build something than move on again. If you ever did want to step back, I'd want to be the person you talked to first.

I couldn't write you a cheque. But I could run it, and pay you out of what it makes."

It's honest about the money, clear about what you're worth, and asks for nothing on the day. Most owners have never been asked this by anybody. But say it too early and it sounds cocky — and you can't say it twice.

Straight answer: will it work?

Probably not at the first place. Maybe not at the second. You should know the real numbers rather than a sales pitch:

About 4 out of 5 small businesses that go up for sale never sell at all.
More than half of those failures happen because the owner wants more than the business is worth. Expect that.
Even when it's the owner's own son or daughter taking over, only about 30% of family businesses make it to the next generation.

So on any one business, the odds are not good, and anyone who tells you different is selling you something.

Here's why it's still absolutely worth doing

Because it costs you nothing to try.

Read the six steps again. Get a job. Be good at it. Stay a while. Ask a question. That's the whole plan. There's no money down, no loan, no guarantee, nothing you can lose.

You'd be doing every single one of those things anyway. The only thing that changes is which dealer you walk into first, and that you know to ask a question most people never think to ask.

And if the answer's no, you've lost nothing at all — you've got a wage, a better CV, and you try again somewhere else. You've got a whole working life to land this once.

There's also a decent wind behind you. Over 800,000 UK companies have a director over 60 with no plan for what happens next, and around 120,000 small business owners want out within ten years — about 51,600 of whom reckon they'll need a completely new owner or they'll just shut the doors. And when owners were asked about selling to someone already inside the business, 95% had considered it. What stops them is not being able to find anyone good enough to sell to.

There is a shortage of people who can do what you can already do. That's the opportunity — not a clever bit of paperwork.

Rules — the short list

Never

Never sign a personal guarantee. Covered above. This one is absolute.
Never sign anything the same day you're shown it. "I'll take that away and read it properly" is a complete sentence. Anyone pushing you to sign on the spot is telling you something about themselves.
Never put your own savings in as a deposit. That £5,000 is your safety net, not a deposit. It'll be needed for a solicitor much later, and not before.
Never agree that the price goes up with the profits. This is the sneaky one. If the deal says "the price is a multiple of profits when you buy", then every improvement you make raises the price you pay for your own work. It has to be a fixed price, or based on the year before you started. Same piece of paper, completely opposite outcome.

Always

Get the important stuff written down, even a couple of lines in an email. "Great chat — just so I've got it right, you said X." A friendly handshake is worth nothing in two years when he's forgotten.
Ask "is it a limited company?" If it's not, most of this doesn't apply and it's a different, more awkward setup.
Talk to a solicitor before signing anything real. Not your dad, not me, not a mate down the pub. That's what the £5,000 is eventually for.
Ask him the killer question early: "what happens to your customers if you stop tomorrow?" If he says "they'd go elsewhere, they come to me" — most of what he's selling doesn't actually exist. If he says "they'd carry on, they deal with the business" — now there's something worth having.

What to do this week

Nothing on this page.

Seriously. This week is about getting a job and chasing what you're owed — your P45, the written reasons for the dismissal, the £2,700 commission and the holiday pay. That's all in your other brief, and it matters far more right now than anything here.

This is a five-year idea, not a this-week idea. The only thing it changes today is which door you knock on first — go for owner-run dealers where there's a bloke in his sixties and no obvious next-in-line, rather than a big chain where the owner is a head office two hundred miles away.

And one last thing, which matters more than any of it.

Your dad's put a lot of thought into this. But you don't owe anyone this plan. If you read it and think "I'd rather just be brilliant at selling and get paid properly for it" — that's a completely good life and nobody would think less of you. Only do this if you want it, because five years of graft doesn't survive on someone else's enthusiasm.

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