The only clue we noticed was the pattern. Always it happened on Thursday or Friday lunchtime, when there was a big queue for the cash machine and customers were drawing out large amounts for the weekend.

We contacted the police and they told us about a scam they had heard of which could well be our problem. Very clever is this. It involves two crooks in the queue either side of the intended victim. The first crook pretends to use the machine but in fact he is actually sticking a piece of black card over the hole where the money comes out.

Then he stands to one side and allows the genuine customer to order cash. The cash can’t come out because it is blocked by the piece of card, which cannot be seen by anybody over three feet tall. Then crook number one tells the victim that his money didn’t come out either and suggests that they both go inside to complain. This allows crook number two to remove the card, take the money and saunter off to pick out another victim. Told you it was clever.

The police promised to put some plain clothes officers in the area to keep an eye on things and hopefully catch the crooks red handed.

One Thursday lunchtime I was just going out of the door of the branch to buy a sandwich when a customer I knew stopped me to complain that the cash machine had kept his money. I dashed out hoping to catch crook number two, reached for the cash dispensing hole in case the card was still in place, and was promptly smacked hard against the wall face first. My arms were wrenched sharply up my back and handcuffs snapped shut around my wrists.

“You’re nicked,” shouted a triumphant voice.

Funny that. I was under the impression that the British police were supposed to go through all that “Anything you say can and may be used in evidence against you…” crap. No. I just got the phrase ‘you’re nicked’ and my face scraped along the wall until the officer was satisfied that the top two layers of skin had come off.

“I’m the managers assistant. Let go of me you bleeding fuckwit!” In the circumstances I thought I showed a great deal of restraint in my choice of language.

The officer looked at the people in the queue, still scraping my face across the wall.

“He’s not is he?” The people in the queue mostly nodded that he had indeed just assaulted the manager’s assistant. “ Oh fuck,” he said. At least he stopped mutilating my face with the brick wall.

Luckily his boss quickly arrived on the scene. He apologized and instructed the officer with the fridge temperature IQ to release me immediately. The customer was able to give a good description of crook number one and the crime team was arrested later that day doing another bank on the other side of town.

I really enjoyed working in this place – the atmosphere was just so friendly and the customers were lovely. At Christmas we received lots of gifts: bottles of wine and spirits; boxes of chocolates and the like. We got loads and toads of greeting cards. All the banks closed at lunchtime on Christmas Eve and we had a bit of a party together and raffled off the presents so that everybody took something home. All the other places I had worked in the managers had kept the gifts for themselves.

For the first time I was receiving top grade appraisals!

All good things come to an end as they say. The boss had been singing my praises to the new Personnel Controller for the region, and he had listened. I received a promotion and a move to the biggest branch in the region. It was just thirty minutes drive away, so at least this time I didn’t have to move house.

Then two things happened in quick succession to convince me that I really didn’t want to work for this company any longer.

Firstly in a pay deal voted through by senior managers, they got company cars and we junior managers lost our overtime payments. So now I was working longer hours, with more responsibility and a lot more work, but actually taking home less money than before I got promoted. This displeased me greatly.

Secondly I booked a family holiday to Turkey. Unfortunately when we arrived the company announced that it had gone bust. The holiday was a nightmare. The hotel we ended up in was a cockroach farm. I believe the chef later headed Saddam Hussein`s weapons of mass destruction program – if the portions he produced for Saddam were as small as the ones he served to us, no wonder the Americans couldn’t find anything in Iraq. It is the only time I have ever lost weight on holiday. Sad really because Turkey is a beautiful place with lovely people and we had an awful time. The only consolation I had was that I had used my bank credit card to pay for the holiday so I was entitled to a refund from the credit card Company.