Bookmakers love figures, and Betfred's Fred Done is no exception. Consider these for example: Betfred's turnover this year will be around £550 million, £8 million of which will be paid by the 'Bonus King' as premiums to punters. He currently owns 435 shops and another 50 will open in 2004 (that's ten a month) at a cost of £100,000 each, the 450th being a flagship branch in London's Leicester Square.

He currently turns over £1 million a week in the Betfred call centre, with his imminent Betfred.com set to do the same within three years. And he's sponsoring the Betfred Gold Cup - formerly the Whitbread - for £900,000 over three years. However, the most telling figures of all are these: a mere six years ago, the 61-year-old grandad was a provincial player with around 160 shops and little brand presence outside the North. Now he's presiding over the most rapid and successful expansion programme in British bookmaking, to such an extent that a head-on collision with the Big Three (Ladbrokes, Corals, Hills) is likely within the next decade.

But why this explosion in business at an age when most senior execs are in Marbella reaching for the nine-iron and a G&T?

'At my age, I can't afford any more five-year plans," Fred says with a smile. 'I've got to get on with life. But if I have to put my finger on what made us go for growth, it was buying the Robert Walker nine-shop chain eight years ago. I'm a Salford lad - I used to be a bit parochial, but when I realized we could operate shops successfully outside the North West, that was it. I knew we had to expand.'

And if Walker gave us the confidence, the £10 million purchase of Demmy's in 1997 gave him the muscle. 'That was a big swallow for us, but it took us to the 200-shop mark. We incorporated Demmy's under the Done banner and, with the volume from the shops providing a stable income base, we were in the perfect position to launch the call centre and online betting. You need deep pockets for that, I can tell you. Fortunately, we have them!'

Grand designs

Rewind to 1959. The Done pockets are empty. Fred, aged only 15, leaves school to become a draughtsman in an engineering firm.

He hates every second and joins forces with an illegal bookmaker. Fred specialises in number-crunching and buying off the local police, the only 'tax' in a game with no VAT or duty before legalisation in 1961.

After bookmaking goes legit, Fred aches for independence and total control. His voice might sound disconcertingly like Harry Corbett's, but his approach to business is the opposite of child's play.

So Fred borrows £4,000 and sets up his first shop, running it with his father and brother. His wife works as a cleaner. Money is tight, the Manchester punters are tough - but Fred is harder still. He's at the sharp end and honing his skills. One shop becomes three within five years, and a bookmaking legend is on his way.

'I come from the Ordsall area,' explains Fred. 'It's the toughest of the tough. Even today, our shop there is the toughest in the chain. I've always had to look after myself and I can... I think you know what I'm saying. And because my background is working-class, I'm straight as a die. People might say I'm aggressive, particularly with my marketing, yet they know that if they do a deal with me, there is no risk. But there's nothing wrong with aggressive marketing now, is there?'

Not if it works, we suggest. And Fred's £4 million-a-year marketing has turned his name into one of the most instantly recognisable bookie brands on the high street.

Done Bookmakers re-branded only a year ago as Betfred, partly because people couldn't pronounce 'Done', partly for call centre and online ease, but particularly to exploit Fred's big personality, working on the theory that punters love taking on a real person as opposed to a faceless corporation. His adverts are as direct as the man himself: they sell no-nonsense, come-and-have-a-punt-if-you're-hard-enough value.

It's almost a punter's duty to take him on and shut this opinionated Mancunian up. And that is exactly what he wants, of course... especially if you are a Liverpool fan like this particular author. 'Ha ha! You're not. You seemed like a nice bloke.' Fred retorts. 'Liverpool fans have been paying for my holidays for years. And their fans are the easiest people in the world to wind up. They come in the shop, you make fun and they throw money at you.

'I reckon this season they are also-rans, fourth at best,' he adds, warming to the subject. 'Arsenal should be favourites, with Chelsea second. But there is little between them and United now that Ferguson has got the Irish off his back, Queiroz is our coach, Ferdinand is playing again and Ronaldo is on form. I'll be having a big bet on United this season, and enjoying every minute of them at Old Trafford.' But not from his eight-seater box, it transpires. He's owned it for more than 20 years and he's never been inside. Ever. Munching prawn sandwiches and entertaining bank managers is not for him. He's in the crowd with his brother and mates - no wives, mind - sounding off on the game. A 'Pool supporter's idea of hell.

Running the show

Back at Betfred HQ, a converted sports hall in Birchwood, Fred tells how he runs his private company his way. There is no board, so every buck stops with him. He admits 'dropping the odd one' - but fewer than his independent competitors, we suspect. On an average day, he runs five miles (and has clocked up a total of 12 marathons) then calls his development team, his 'family', to talk business in his office. Right now, we learn, they have the southern counties of England firmly in their sights.

'The problem with southern bookies is that they're not really Southerners,' starts Fred in inimitable fashion. 'They're Ladbrokes, Hills and Corals and they've had their own way down there too long. The North is a tough trading environment, so you've got to be good. Punters have been ripped off down south for years - just look at the margins! I go 500/1 for three numbers on the Irish lottery; the others go 460/1. They don't triple the odds on Lucky 15. But when I make an application to open a new shop in their area, they soon change the odds!'

So we ask, is Betfred looking to upset the corporates, much in the way as Ryanair and EasyJet attacked British Airways - is he looking to outmanoeuvre the Big Three and cannibalise their market?

'That's a fair analysis,' concludes Fred, 'but there's actually more to it than that. I like to do things differently from other companies. I am personally involved here. I change the prices after the traders have been working all night on them. I want to be different. I want fun out of this game, and that means taking people on. I want to gamble. You can get an accountant to run a company, but that's not my style.

'I also need to be hands-on, and that involves going back to the floor and running our Leicester Square branch for a couple of weeks. It's not some publicity stunt, it's because I want to. I've even asked my wife if she'll clean the shop, just like the old times.'

A multi-millionaire's wife mopping out the floor of betting shop? We gasp. Can he be serious?

'Absolutely,' he laughs. 'She said she'd get the Marigolds on. Now I told you we did things differently at Betfred, didn't I?'