The following story is part extracted from the new book, Sir Ian Wood Aberdeens Billionaire.

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The Day Peterheads Charlie Ritchie humbled an Aberdeen Oil & Gas Giant.

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It was just another ordinary working day for Charlie Ritchie, Managing Director of Score Europe Valves in Peterhead. His schedule was packed: a few client meetings, a discussion about setting up a new testing facility for gas power turbines—nothing out of the ordinary.

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In the early 2000s, Score Europe was dominating the UK and global oil and gas valve market, delivering one of the most comprehensive valve management services the industry had ever seen. Before Score’s rise, valve management in the oil and gas sector had been fragmented and inefficient, with numerous small vendors competing in a disjointed market.

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Charlie Ritchie, the company’s colourful founder, had taken Score from the remnants of a Wood Group division that Sir Ian Wood had declined to invest in, and transformed it into the world’s largest valve stockist for the oil and gas industry. By 2001, Score had built an impressive business empire—its Peterhead warehouse, once a fish processing plant, held nearly £300 million worth of clients’ valves, ready to be called off for the needs of North Sea oil rigs.

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Charlie had just taken a call from one of his most important oil and gas clients down in Aberdeen, requesting an urgent meeting. It wouldn’t be appropriate to name the company—let’s just say it was one of the eighteen major oil operators based in the city.

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What Charlie didn’t know was that this client had been harbouring resentment toward Score Europe for some time. Behind the scenes, they had been exploring ways to reduce the company’s influence within their valve supply chain. But, much like a complicated divorce, disentangling from Score was no simple matter. The company was deeply embedded in the very fabric of valve supply—having designed, managed, and, in many cases, owned the valve specifications that much of the industry relied on.

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Unaware that anything was amiss, Charlie was genuinely looking forward to the meeting. Most client visits ended with new contracts or additional work, and there was no reason to think this one would be any different. Cheerfully, he got into his car and set off from Score’s Peterhead base for the drive down to Aberdeen.

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Upon arrival, and after making his way past reception, Charlie and his two colleagues were escorted by their host into a large boardroom. To their surprise, around thirty people were already seated around the table, creating an atmosphere that felt more like an ambush than a business meeting. After the customary round of introductions, it quickly became clear to Charlie that this was not the usual crowd. The room wasn’t filled with the supply chain or engineering teams who typically worked with Score Europe—but with lawyers, contract specialists, and corporate managers.

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At the centre of the boardroom table sat an overhead projector—this was before the days of laptops and HDMI cables. When it flickered to life, an image appeared on the screen: a newspaper clipping from the Press and Journal published a few weeks earlier. The headline read, “Score Europe Makes Record-Breaking Profits – Sales Accelerate to £30m a Year from £17m the Year Before.”

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Then, in a moment that would become infamous, one of the senior corporate managers from Aberdeen looked directly at Charlie and his team and declared that Score Europe was “making too much money off the back of the business” his company was providing.

 

Charlie and his two colleagues were stunned. Charlie himself was furious. The notion that a corporate manager—someone who had never built a business, never faced the sleepless nights, the risks, or the years of investment it had taken him to grow Score—would have the audacity to tell him he was too successful was almost beyond belief. To suggest that his company’s hard-earned profits were somehow inappropriate, simply because they came from work this client had awarded them, was more than Charlie could stomach.

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Those who were present at the meeting later recalled that Charlie’s response was calm and composed—at least on the surface. But beneath that restraint, it was clear he was seething. His words were deliberate, each one controlled through sheer force of will.

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He countered firmly: “We operate in a free market, not a communist state. You’re our client by choice. Our pricing has been agreed, accepted—and aside from the occasional mishap—we’ve never deliberately let your company down. Everything’s been fine for the past ten years. Now, because you’ve read a newspaper article about our success, you’re bitter with jealousy that you haven’t achieved the same. Frankly, it’s mind-blowing. You’ll need to explain, in detail, why I’ve been dragged into this meeting just to be criticised for helping make your company successful in the North Sea.”

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From there, the meeting quickly deteriorated. The now-infamous Aberdeen corporate manager, stung by Charlie’s blunt honesty, erupted in fury—unable to tolerate such a challenge from someone he considered a subordinate supplier. Charlie and his team rose to leave, but not before the manager delivered a parting threat—one that, by today’s standards, would be considered entirely unacceptable: “If something isn’t done to reduce your costs—and your profits—we’ll remove you as a vendor, wind down our agreements, and shift our business elsewhere.”

 

As with many self-important oil and gas operators, they simply assumed Charlie would capitulate—to quietly accept making “less money” in order to keep their business. But Charlie was livid. To him, this felt like a form of blackmail—though not the usual kind. They didn’t want money from him; they just wanted him to appear to be earning less of it.

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Charlie reiterated that his pricing had always been fair, transparent, and fully in line with market standards. The client’s project manager, offering no evidence whatsoever, disagreed vehemently.

That was the breaking point. Charlie stood up without another word, glanced at his colleagues, and said calmly, “We’re leaving.” The three of them walked out, and as they passed reception, Charlie tossed their visitor passes onto the desk without breaking stride.

 

A few days went by, Charlie had calmed down externally, but not internally. He sat and discussed an Immediate cessation of all business with said client with Imediate effect. But he knew his client would have ultimately needed to shut down a number of Oil producing platforms if they were to do that, and the media fall out would have been disastrous for his business. Charlie thought about how to handle what had happened to him, and he didnt have it in him to be humble and capitulate. He was looking for revenge. He had been made to look like a fool for no real reason, by an arrogant company corporate manager with no context of what owning a business was about.

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A reconciliation meeting was arranged, but with both sides convinced of their own righteousness, neither had any intention of backing down. After the spectacle caused by the oil company manager, there was no chance he’d swallow his pride and reverse his position. Why should he? In his mind, he was a big deal—a “big shot,” as they say—an important manager at a major oil and gas operator. And Charlie? Well, to him, Charlie was just a supplier—someone who, in his view, owed his success to the company’s business.

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But Charlie wasn’t about to eat humble pie. He had already begun plotting his revenge. To him, some business simply wasn’t worth keeping—not if it meant sacrificing fairness and self-respect, even for your best customer. Feeling wronged and betrayed, he decided he was willing to walk away from his largest client. And, being Charlie, he intended to make his exit nothing short of theatrical.

A follow-up meeting was scheduled at the client’s Aberdeen office. Charlie had requested that an overhead projector be available in the room so he could “present some new innovative valve solutions Score was developing”—or at least, that’s what he told the client’s assistant beforehand.

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When the Score team arrived, the usual pleasantries were exchanged. Charlie remained polite, though it took effort to shake hands with the most arrogant client manager he had ever met.

Once everyone was seated, Charlie wasted no time. His client clearly expected him to beg forgiveness—to admit he’d made too much profit and promise to be a good, compliant little supplier. But Charlie had no such intentions.

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He began by placing a transparency on the projector showing the client’s annual spend with Score, broken down into revenue and profit. Then, in a move more reminiscent of a Netflix drama than an Aberdeen business meeting, he swapped the slide. This time, an acetate copy of a Press and Journal front page appeared—dated seven months earlier—declaring the client’s own UK oil and gas profits at £3.4 billion.

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Charlie turned to the room. “I have never been so insulted by a bigger bunch of hypocrites in my life,” he said. The room fell silent. He continued, pointing out the absurdity of being chastised for his modest £5 million profit when the client’s earnings dwarfed it a thousand times over.

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He then announced that Score would be withdrawing support for their operations—not abruptly, but gradually, giving them time to transition their supply elsewhere. What the client didn’t yet realize was that they needed Score far more than Score needed them—a lesson they would soon learn the hard way.

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With that, Charlie and his team stood up and left the room, leaving behind a table of stunned, speechless faces. As they were packing up to go, the client manager barked that Score would “never receive another order” and that their contract termination would be accelerated. Charlie said nothing. He simply walked out.

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Later, reflecting on the encounter, Charlie admitted he wasn’t proud of what he’d done—but he knew it had to be done.

The client went ahead with its plan to reduce reliance on Score Europe as its main supplier and valve management partner, gradually winding down their contract. The now-infamous project manager, still fuming over what he saw as a personal slight, declared that he would never allow any supplier to “get the better of him.” He refused to back down, clinging to his misplaced sense of righteousness—until his actions nearly crippled offshore operations on some of the company’s most productive assets.

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Eventually, the consequences caught up with him. The manager was removed from his position, and his employer was forced to approach Score Europe once more. With several critical operations under threat, they sought to repair the relationship. Charlie, ever pragmatic, was willing to return to the table. He held no grudges now that the instigator of the conflict had been placed on gardening leave.

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The partnership resumed—though the dynamic had changed. By this time, Score had expanded into more than twenty countries and launched a new gas turbine overhaul and repair division, which alone employed over 1,200 people. The company’s growth spoke for itself: whatever temporary setback the feud had caused, Score had long since outgrown it.

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The major oil companies of Aberdeen have at times displayed an arrogance and disregard toward their suppliers that borders on shameful—a belief that those who serve them should simply be grateful for the scraps of business they’re given. What they often fail to grasp is that these so-called “small” service providers collectively form the lifeblood of their own success.

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The truth is, oil companies—and large corporations everywhere—depend far more on their suppliers than they care to admit. Yes, there are exceptions where the loss of a vendor might go unnoticed, but in most cases, without the dedication and expertise of those smaller firms, their operations would be half as effective, if not worse.

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Few, however, would have had the conviction—or the audacity—of Charlie Ritchie.

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When I first heard this story I thought this is a load of absolute nonsense and simply made up, to Hollywoodise Peterhead and Aberdeen. Thought that no one would shoot themselves in the foot to that extent in a premediated manner. however the story came from someone working for that Operator at the time back in the day, so who am I to question the authenticity.

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This and versions of this story extracted from the new ABERDEEN BEST SELLER - SIR IAN WOOD ABERDEENS BILLIONIRE