A Less than Starry Ceiling

It was just meant to be a very quick trip into town for a message and then back home to extract some money from the local wall before attacking some Dower House cleaning. Unfortunately as they say, 'Man proposes, God disposes', and my quick dash turned into a marathon.

Seeing a convenient cashpoint in the St James Centre, I thought I would save a slight detour back home and extract a fairly princely sum of filthy lucre to give as back dated Christmas and birthday money to daughter #3 who has come back from Oman to Scotland for a few days.

The card was accepted and dealt with and spat back to me, the cash was counted, but the money didn't emerge. Untold horror; I'm not speaking about a tenner here.

To cut a long story short, I had to make a complaint at the information desk and then traipse to RBS head office in St Andrew Square and have forms filled in. It could take up to a fortnight before they can check the money situation in the cashpoint and refund me.

My worst fear is that someone used the faulty cashline after me and was bestowed with my money in addition to theirs, so how would the powers that be know I was telling the truth?

With nerves shot to pieces, there was only one solution. Yes, you've guessed - a slice of vegan fruit loaf and a soothing cup of tea in Loudon's before returning to domestic duties and relaying my woes on the phone to his Lordship hunkered down out of the wind behind a wall somewhere near Biggar eating his piece as hill walkers might call lunch, though what he was expected to do about it, I don't know, but a trouble shared and all that..

The one positive thing to come out of the morning, is this blip of the ceiling in the head office of RBS in St Andrew Square.
I had plenty of time to gaze upwards while I waited less than patiently in the queue.