Monday 14th April 2014

Genevieve Suzy phoned at 3pm and said ‘You must be there by 6. There’s to be a full tour, including the Vaults, led by the Governor himself.’

We were to penetrate to the heart of England. I wore my Zara blue plastic jackette and Topman tweedish slacks. In the stony vestibule, a man in ancient pink costume, with medals, tried to shoo us away. But no, ‘We’re here for the event.’ We sweep into a bunker and collect our labels. No other Press, I see. Dainty Lady TV the only media present. Otherwise it’s ‘Mike Codd, Dave’s Fitters plc’ or ‘Colin Pegg, Hardline Flooring’. Drinks are not particularly forthcoming. We wonder what to do but not for long. Genevieve decides to investigate. We bowl up to a woman and read her label. ‘You’re the Chief Cashier!’ Genevieve declares. The woman looks alarmed. ‘She sits there all day signing the notes,’ somebody quips. ‘A woman in this rôle would be perfect for Dainty Lady TV,’ says Genevieve Suzy.  But there’s a certain flint with the anxiety of the Chief Cashier. Plainly she does not issue notes willy-nilly.

We are ushered through to the exhibition space, whose refurbishment is to be opened at the function. Still no sign of the main man. We quiver on the verge of disappointment, as always when a greatness is expected, but keep going with investigative conversation with Head of Security, who is probably an ex-policeman. ‘We advise businesses on what to look for but there are certain things only we know about.’ The Hall is vaulted. Genevieve whispers about the Gold Bars. Suddenly there is a bevy. A ring of people are moving into view. To keep the ring, some of them have to walk backwards and have a trotting motion to avoid falling over. But they move firmly towards the podium. There, we behold him at last, within the protective escort, the Governor himself, Martha Carney, our Nation’s banker. Head of Communications makes the first speech. It turns out later Genevieve Suzy’s husband was at Eton with him. He is also thought to be a Deputy-Governor. But the Governor is the one, smaller than expected and older, but with timeless grooming to evoke the stability of a Central Bank. The speeches over, Genevieve says to Head of Communications, ‘We’d like to see the Gold Bars.’ He is most regretful, in old-school gentleman manner, but offers a tour of the State rooms instead. Privately we are swept upstairs. Faces passed in corridors are aghast. Who are these people with Head of Communications? We are shown the room where they set the Interest Rate and another ballroom-type room out of a Stately. I am caught by Head of Communications taking snoop graphs. ‘It’s quite all right,’ he says, ‘you can take pictures.’ We regain the party passing more stunned faces. By now drinks and canapés are pumping out at a rate of 3 a minute. We meet Head of Maintenance who has thousands of light bulbs to worry about and then, oh then we are in the actual presence. Yes! in actual confab with the Governor of England’s Bank. He gives us his last 7 minutes at the party, before the ring reformed to escort him forth. He gave us his last Rollo. Our topics: his time at UBS, saved by the Swiss Central Bank – so the utter certainty of Central Banks. Her Majesty the Queen. I tell him my private stories of her worries over the cost of her frocks. ‘Thank you for your enormous bill,’ she wrote to Hardy Amies, ‘which it will take some time to pay.’ He has only had one audience of Her Majesty, he confesses. We move on to toxic debt which I advise him has not turned out so toxic in all cases.

Then, with great waves of grace, but on the dot, for his car cannot wait nor his next function, the Governor of the Bank of England departed.

Head of Communications Opens the Proceedings

Yes! Yes! Yes! Sir Carney Indeed

Here They Actually Sit and Set the Interest Rates

A Reception Hall Within the Bank

A Cosy Corner for Resting from Banking at the Bank

Carpet Interest for When Bored During an Interest-Rate Setting Meeting