Portrait of an old lady

The Bank, like the monarchy and the House of Lords, is one of the Great British Institutions. The Chief Cashier has his signature on every note. More gold is stored in the impregnable vaults under Threadneedle Street than at Fort Knox. A raised eyebrow from the Governor is enough to destroy a man's credit.

But this mighty British bastion is changing. Horribly shaken by the secondary banking crisis, the disastrous purchase of the Johnson Matthey Bank and ensuing scandal, and now shocked by Big Bang, the Bank is no longer in complete control of the City, able to regulate it by a whisper or a nod. Instead there are bevis of lawyers, brash young men in rolled shirt sleeves - and one with an earring.