My bank – a global behemoth with Asian origins – refused to honour my transaction. This was despite multiple attempts, and an agent on the telephone telling me everything was okay at their end.

The six-hour round trip to view, test drive, negotiate, and buy a car had failed because my bank would not release my money. Money that I had held with them for years… A relationship we held for over 40 years…

Through the red mist of a lost day, a lost vehicle, and a rather annoyed salesman, I have been reflecting. I have made these types of transactions before – several times in fact – and never had problems. Something has changed. That which I thought I could rely upon in the future is no longer so certain today. My bank not releasing my money when I need it is something else entirely.

The warm words of my relationship manager over the years have turned out to be platitudes. I am no longer me anymore; in the moment of that failed transaction it was my bank that decided who I was, and, more worryingly, who I could be. My four-consonant named bank has decided to blame the retailer for the failed transaction. So, off to the Ombudsman I will go. It’s a matter of principle above anything else, but oh boy, what a principle. It goes to the very heart of banking.

I am not the only one disgruntled with my bank of course. We have all read of the recent problems a famous politician has had being “de-banked” here in the UK; events which subsequently led to the removal of two apparently well-regarded bosses, and the overnight destruction of the reputation of the chairman and individual members of the board.

Banks can only exist in our society if we believe that they can be trusted. Trust keeps the banking system going; trust that when I give my asset to the bank it becomes their liability to honour, and to give back to me when I ask them to. A few days ago, they failed that most basic of tasks.