It all becomes too much for me then and I slump forward. Sonia catches me just in time. I hear the girl call for assistance and then a familiar voice.

‘Maggie. Is that you?’

I turn and see Val coming towards me. Sean used to say that Val and I looked alike, though she is much more polished than me. Unlike my wild mane, her auburn hair is cut in a neat, glossy bob, her eyes shaded by smart black-framed spectacles. I look down at my borrowed clothes but I don’t feel ashamed any more. I just feel numb.

‘Is everything okay?’ says Val, putting her hand on my shoulder.

‘I need to check my balance,’ I say, rather more abruptly than intended. ‘I didn’t want to make a fuss but all my stuff has –’

‘Hey, hey, don’t worry,’ says Val, sensing my agitation. ‘Let’s go somewhere quieter and we can sort this out.’

She gestures to the girl behind the counter then leads Sonia and me towards a small, glass-fronted room.

‘Do take a seat,’ she says as we enter.

Sonia helps me into the stiff plastic chair.

‘Right,’ says Val, sitting down opposite. ‘First, Maggie, can I say how truly sorry I am – we all are – to hear about little Elspeth.’

I nod my head, tears clouding my eyes. Elspeth loved the bank. She would skip around the room while I queued up to see a cashier, lost in her own little world. If Val was here she’d pop a barley sugar sweet into Elspeth’s hands and ask her how school was going.

‘She was a lovely child,’ says Val, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how you must be feeling.’

‘Can we … can we just sort out the account, please,’ I say, wiping my eyes. ‘It’s just … I find it very hard to talk about her still.’

‘Of course,’ says Val gently. ‘If you pass your card over I’ll have it sorted in moments.’

Sonia and I sit in silence as Val types something into her computer. After a couple of minutes she looks up.

‘Okay, so the balance of your account is £198.54.’

‘Right,’ I say. ‘Thank you.’

Val smiles awkwardly. ‘We, er, we had the police visit us,’ she says, folding her hands on the desk. ‘They were asking questions about your husband.’

Of course, I think to myself. This will have been one of the last places he visited. I sit up straight in my chair and try to compose myself.

‘They said he took all the money from his account,’ I say.

‘Yes.’

‘Did he say why he was doing that? Or where he was going?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know,’ says Val, looking pained. ‘It was our deputy manager, Jamie, who dealt with the closing of the account. He told the police all he knew. I guess if your husband had given any explanation then Jamie would have said.’