Holding On To You Read Free Page B

and those people who don't seem to have any common sense. Maddy hates people who don't appear to have common sense, and that's why she likes cats, because for her, cat's quite clearly don't suffer fools gladly. 
    As she gets to the top of the stairs, she remembers again why the deposits have to be done on a Friday afternoon, not least to get them into the company's bank accounts before the weekend. It's because the bank is always absolutely chaotic on a Monday, and Maddy hates chaos with a fiery passion.
    She approaches the front desk to announce her arrival, and intention for being here, but there's nobody manning it. She rings the bell, waits for a moment, and then catches sight of a staff member crossing the floor. She expects him to come to the desk, but he walks straight past her without a glance.
    'Excuse me', Maddy says feistily, but the man ignores her, disappearing quickly into a back room before she can call him again. Once again, her hand forms a fist in her pocket, this time around the squeezable pig shaped stress ball she's thankful she's remembered to bring with her.
    'You have to queue up', a stout woman to her right tells her, nodding over at the desks where large queues have already formed.
    'I'm sorry what?' Maddy says when she realises the woman is talking to her.
    'That's right. You have to queue up like everyone else. The system's gone all haywire this morning, something to do with a bug on the computers. That's why it's so crazy in here', she says emphasising the word crazy by shaking her hands in the air.
    'I have a business account', Maddy says plainly.
    'Oh right a business account, gee why didn't you say earlier', the woman says, and whistles sarcastically through pursed lips that look like a cat's bum. 'You still have to queue up lady. But don't go and take my word for it. Ask the staff, if you can get hold of one of them.'
    Maddy does just that. It takes a while to barge to the front of the queue and push the waiting customers out of the way, but that's exactly what Maddy does, because it's exactly what she thinks she's allowed to do. Once there, she makes it clear that she's an important customer, has been for several years, shouldn't really be here anyway, as though it's their fault that she is, and furthermore, that she has a large amount of money to deposit that she will happily deposit in another bank if necessary.
    'Get back in the queue', come the shouts from behind her.
    'What makes you so special?' says somebody else.
    When Maddy refuses to budge, the bank teller loses his patience. He makes a call to a colleague, who comes out a minute later from a door behind him, and escorts Maddy off to a desk, secluded as best as he can find from his other clients, in order to deal with her promptly, efficiently and quietly.
    The stout woman watches and shakes her head. 'Some people', she says to herself.
    Madeleine Parker is well known as a massive pain in the ass to every staff member in the bank, but her custom has always been very important, and for that reason, whenever she comes in, which is frankly more often than any of them would like, she has to be dealt with cautiously, as though handling a venomous spider. Whoever deals with her has to bite their tongue, and bite it hard, and today that responsibility falls to Fergal Murphy, one of two senior managers, and a man moulded so well by the banking system, that biting his tongue has become muscle memory in the presence of some of his most affluent clients and investors. Some people would call that 'kissing ass', but Fergal calls it 'his job', and doing his job is something Fergal loves. Fergal has worked at the bank for several years, dealing in that time with every member of the Parker family, working his way up, from the very bottom to the very top, to now be in such a position of importance that he has his own monogrammed stationery, which includes a special gold plated pen. He is also delighted to be one of only two key holders to the banks