Graham called his bank to complain about being kept on hold.
While he waited, his family played a music quiz beside him. The final question was the tune playing down his phone.
Everyone leaned closer.
At that moment, a bank worker answered and stopped the music. Graham said he had one urgent request….
Graham had written his complaint on the back of an envelope. He had underlined the waiting time twice.
Forty-three minutes, he told his wife, Linda. Forty-three minutes to ask about a three-pound charge.
Did they remove it?
I never got through.
Linda suggested he write instead.
And wait three weeks? I want to speak to a person.
He called again on Sunday afternoon. This time he used the speaker so everyone could hear how badly he was being treated.
A cheerful voice thanked him for his patience.
I haven’t offered any, Graham told it.
Music began. A bright little tune with a trumpet, a piano and no sign of a bank worker.
Their daughter, Rachel, arrived with her husband. She had brought a music quiz for after lunch. Each question played a short piece of a song. Teams had to name it.
Graham refused to join.
I’m doing something important.
So are we, Linda said. There are biscuits for the winners.
He put the phone beside his chair and kept one finger on his envelope.
The family got through two rounds. Graham occasionally supplied an answer without looking up. When he was right, he claimed the point. When he was wrong, he said he hadn’t been playing.
The phone thanked him again.
That’s the fourth time, he said.
You could thank it back, Rachel said.
For what?
Keeping you company.
Graham turned the volume down, but not off. He had already invested an hour in getting angry.
Linda’s team and Rachel’s team reached the last question level on points. The quiz gave them five seconds of an old instrumental.
Nobody spoke.
Then the same trumpet came from the phone.
Rachel paused the quiz.
That’s it.
Graham looked up.
That’s what?
The last question. Your bank’s playing it.
For the first time all afternoon, everyone was interested in his call.
Linda moved her chair closer. Rachel’s husband said the title would come to him if they could hear a little more. Graham turned the speaker back up.
The piano started. Linda tapped the table. Rachel hummed along. Her husband raised one hand. He nearly had it.
The trumpet drew breath.
Hello, said a bank worker. Sorry to keep you waiting. How can I help?
All four people groaned.
I’m very sorry, the worker said. Have you been waiting long?
Graham looked at his envelope. Then at the plate of biscuits.
I have one urgent request.
Of course, sir.
Could you put me back on hold?
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