Reading Ruth Eason’s article on her experiences of relief work, prompted recall of an event that will live with me forever.
It was early in my career and I was sent on relief to Bridgton Cross Branch of the British Linen Bank where one of my duties was to take the weekly cash remittance to the Queen Street office.
Having checked the notes into a large case, I set off on the big adventure with my more senior colleague, who had in fact only one year more service than I. Bear in mind that in those days Securicor was not even a ‘thing,’ and taxis were too expensive, so we had to use public transport.
We boarded a tram bound for some distant part of Glasgow, put the case under the stairs to the top deck, and sat opposite to keep an eye on it. As the tram shoogled its way along the cobbles, we chatted about the regular daily topics – football and girls. Still talking animatedly we noticed that we had arrived at Lewis’s in Argyle Street, which is where we got off and walked up Queen Street towards the Bank.
Halfway up, a feeling of dread smothered our merry conversation. Silence descended and we each looked at the other. No words were required. Our expressions said it all: “where’s the bag?!”
There followed the comical spectacle of two young men haring down Queen Street, running along Argyle Street, jumping on and off trams searching for a case with a lot of money inside.
Yes, you’re right – we didn’t even know what tram we had been on! They all looked the same.
Eventually, we caught up with the correct one in Union Street and thankfully, the case was still there.
Massively relieved, we duly reported to Queen Street where we were lectured about our timekeeping. I’m sure you’ll appreciate why we did not attempt to make excuses for our tardiness.
Some tales are not worth telling until your Pension is safely in your hand.
(Submitted by Bob Jackson.)