Honey Hill House

by Lisa Ireland

  Fiona continued, ‘I’m wondering how the tax office got your new address. Are you claiming any government benefits?’

  Bea shook her head. ‘No, but I did just notify Medicare of my new address and … oh no …’ The flicker of hope that maybe there was a chance of working this out died when Bea realised what an idiot she’d been. ‘I have a business number. I used to have my own travel consultancy. It wasn’t very big, just a few clients, but I did it by the book. I made an enquiry about using the same ABN for the B&B and I gave my new details when I did that. Does this mean they’ll cancel my ABN? Will I have to file for bankruptcy if I can’t pay?’

  Fiona shook her head. ‘No, no. I shouldn’t think so. Now you said you didn’t earn any money. Do you think this,’ she pointed to the letter on the table between them, ‘is incorrect? Because the tax office has been known to make mistakes. We can challenge it if you think that’s the case.’

  Bea sighed and looked at the table so she didn’t have to meet Fiona’s eyes. ‘I know this sounds incredibly stupid, but I’m pretty sure that it will be income allocated to me from my husband’s business. Money I never saw in reality, but on paper it’s mine.’ Bea went on to explain as briefly as possible how the family business had worked. How Jason had taken care of all the money in the household and how she’d trusted him. ‘You must think I’m a complete fool,’ Bea said when she was done with the details.

  ‘Not at all. You were young and you trusted your husband. Everyone makes mistakes. Now if you make the same mistake again, then I might think you’re a fool.’ Fiona winked.

  Bea laughed. ‘Let me assure you there’s no chance of that happening.’

  ‘The thing is, Bea, the tax office usually only sends out a bill like this after a return has been lodged. Do you think your ex-husband may have forged your signature?’

  Surely not. Jason was an arse but he wasn’t a criminal. At least she didn’t think he was. ‘I don’t know, but it’s hard to imagine he would stoop so low.’

  ‘Are you sure you didn’t file a tax return? You didn’t sign one for him last year like you had in previous years?’

  Bea was silent for a moment. What must Fiona think of her? And what about Mitch? Even though Mitch knew her story, when the facts were laid out like this her married life seemed pathetic. She seemed pathetic. ‘I don’t know,’ she said quietly. ‘Maybe. I was very stressed when the divorce finally came through. I’d been ill and, well …’ She glanced up at Mitch. In the version of her life she’d given Mitch there’d been no depression, no grieving. She’d dealt with her diagnosis and carried on with her life, but in fact there’d been months after the surgery when she’d barely left the house. There had been a whole slew of papers she’d had to sign to unravel her life from Jason’s. Maybe one of those had been a tax return. She honestly didn’t remember.

  Mitch and Fiona exchanged a glance. Humiliation burned Bea’s chest and the heat of it crawled up her neck and into her cheeks. How stupid and immature she was compared to the two of them. Was she destined never to escape the mistakes of her past?

  ‘You know, Bea, if you weren’t mentally capable or if you felt coerced in any way, then maybe there are other avenues, perhaps legal avenues you could pursue,’ Fiona said.

  Bea shook her head vigorously. ‘No. I’m done with lawyers. Even if I wanted to I couldn’t afford to take Jason to court. Besides, I want to take responsibility for this.’

  Mitch squeezed her hand. ‘There’s no shame in seeking help, Bea. Especially if something dodgy has been going on with Jason’s company.’

  ‘No. This is my fault and I accept the consequences. For years I abdicated my financial responsibilities. Yes, I trusted Jason and yes, he made it hard for me to be involved in any financial decisions. But I should never, ever have signed any document without reading it. I should have known better. I’ve let others control my life for too long. I need to take care of this myself. And when it’s all done I’ll be free.’

  Fiona nodded her understanding.

  ‘So what’s the next step, Fi?’ Mitch asked.

  Fiona looked at Bea. ‘I really need you to come and visit me in my office so I can get your data up from the ATO. I’ll need you to call them. Don’t worry. It won’t be scary. I’ll be right there and will walk you through the process. Look, I know this is a lot of money to you, but to the ATO you’re small fry. They just want a commitment to pay. They’re not going to force you into bankruptcy or make demands that will cause hardship.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘We’ll be able to work out a regular payment schedule, I’m sure. I can’t speak as to exactly what that schedule will be. Hopefully something that will allow you to go ahead with your plans, but we’ll just have to wait and see on that score. There’s every reason to be hopeful though.’

  Bea felt an enormous wave of relief wash over her. There was some work to be done to get through this debacle but Fiona’s calm and professional manner gave her every reason to feel hopeful that there would be a solution. ‘Thanks, Fiona. I really appreciate your help. Now, please, let’s talk about something else.’

  Chapter 12

  On Monday morning Bea raced from Fiona Maxwell’s office to her car. Her tiny umbrella was no match for the icy sheets of rain coming at her. Once safely inside the car she removed her sodden coat and then scrambled around in her handbag for something to dry her face and hair. At the bottom of her cavernous bag she found a grubby-looking bandana. It would have to do.

  Once she’d dried off a bit she turned on the engine and got the demister going. Her little car was all fogged up—just like her brain. She should be happy, or relieved at least. After forty-five minutes in Fiona’s office and a lengthy discussion with Tim from the ATO, they’d managed to come to an agreement about her tax bill. The ATO was going to let her pay it in instalments. One payment immediately of five thousand dollars, which was as much as she could realistically afford, and the rest in quarterly payments. By the end of next year her debt would be paid.

  So she wasn’t going to be dragged off to prison for tax evasion, be made bankrupt or any of the other terrible fates that had invaded her dreams for the past couple of nights. But now that the immediate problem was solved she had to work out what she was going to do with her life. Once she was back at Honey Hill House she would do the figures to be sure, but as things stood right now she couldn’t see how she could make the B&B work. She couldn’t open without a proper kitchen and now she couldn’t afford to renovate it. Maybe if she could get a job here … she laughed out loud. There were no jobs in Dulili. She was part of a scheme to bring new people and new businesses to the town to create jobs. Maybe she could get a job in Orange? Somehow that didn’t seem likely. She doubted the local travel agency would be looking to take on a new consultant and it wasn’t even as if she had recent experience. Perhaps she could do something else. But what?

  Her head was spinning with ideas of jobs she might be capable of when the kicker hit her. If she wasn’t going to turn Honey Hill House into a B&B she was breaking her agreement with the Dulili Project Committee and thus she couldn’t stay in the house. Her heart sank. It really was over.

  The drive back to Dulili took all Bea’s concentration. The rain beating down in Orange followed her all the way home. Visibility was poor and driving safely was the only thing on her mind. It wasn’t until she turned into the gumtree-lined dirt road that led to her house that she allowed herself to think about the pain of leaving here. It had been only a couple months since she and Joe had dragged all her possessions out of his mate’s truck, but it felt like a lifetime ago. She’d been happy here. Had dreams. Made friends. Fallen in love.

  Fallen in love?

  No. It was too soon for that. She didn’t love Mitch. Not yet. But if she stayed, there was the potential for that. If ever there was a man she could let her guard down with, it would be him. Was him. She’d told him more about herself in the last few days than she’d disclosed to some of her closest frien
ds. Being with Mitch was easy. It wasn’t just the physical attraction, powerful though that was. He made her feel more like herself than she had in a very long time. When they were together she was happy. It was as simple as that.

  But there was no way forward for them. She couldn’t stay and Mitch leaving the farm wasn’t an option either. Evelyn and Geoff couldn’t manage the property without him and, besides, the farm was in his blood. It was part of him and she would never ask him to give that up. In any case, she was in no position to be asking him for anything. They’d slept together once—okay twice, although the shower session had nothing to do with sleeping—and that really was it. And now she’d have to be satisfied with that because she couldn’t let it go any further. She didn’t know how long it would take her to sort out the move back to Geelong, but she doubted she would be here longer than a couple of weeks. It wasn’t fair to either of them to confuse things by continuing to sleep together.

  She pulled up outside the house and for a moment contemplated not going in. Mitch had made her promise to call him the moment she got home. He’d wanted to come to Fiona’s office with her, but she’d refused. She was determined to sort her financial woes out on her own. But now she knew what was what there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Perhaps she should head up to Mitch’s place and tell him the news right now. That way everything would be settled and she wouldn’t have a dark cloud looming over her head, figuratively speaking of course. The literal dark clouds above her showed no signs of abating. But the need to dry her hair and change out of her damp clothes was even greater than her desire to tell Mitch her mixed bag of news. She’d clean herself up and then call him. He’d been vague about his plans for the morning, saying only that he had stuff to do but would be around should she need him. Now that she thought about it, tearing up to his place wasn’t the best idea anyway. The likelihood of finding him there at eleven in the morning was fairly remote. He could be anywhere—out in the paddocks, in town buying supplies, or any number of other places. She’d stick to the plan and call once she was in some warm clothes.

  As she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, hair freshly blow-dried and body warmly wrapped in a thick cable-knit cardigan, she was surprised to hear a car pulling into her drive. She peeked out the kitchen window to see Evelyn’s four-wheel drive parked behind her hatchback. Damn. Normally she loved Evelyn’s company, but she wasn’t prepared to have the ‘I’m sorry but I’m leaving’ discussion just yet. She wondered how much Mitch had told his mum about her predicament. If he hadn’t said anything maybe she could avoid the whole conversation. Of course she’d need to tell Evelyn soon, but she wanted time to prepare exactly what she was going to say.

  She watched as Evelyn got out of the car, covered head to toe in wet-weather gear, sensible country woman that she was. As Bea raced to open the back door so Evelyn wouldn’t be kept waiting in the rain, she heard another car pull up. She pushed open the back door. ‘Evelyn. What a lovely surprise. Come on in out of the rain.’

  Evelyn smiled and stepped inside, pulling off her gumboots the second she was in the door. She pulled out a pair of dry shoes from a plastic bag she was carrying and slid her stockinged feet into them. ‘Goodness, it’s coming down in buckets. Hope that roof of yours is leak free.’

  ‘So far so good,’ Bea said, as Mitch made his appearance on the back verandah.

  ‘Good, you’re here,’ Evelyn said as her son closed the back door behind him.

  Bea looked from one to the other and raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this purely a social visit or do I detect something else going on?’

  Mitch grinned. ‘No flies on you, are there?’

  Bea shook her head. ‘Come on into the kitchen. I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Mitch and Evelyn took off their wet-weather gear and hung it on the hooks in the laundry, while Bea filled the kettle.

  ‘It’s chilly in here. Do you want me to get the fire going?’ Mitch asked.

  ‘Yeah, I only just got back from Orange ten minutes ago, so I haven’t had a chance to do it yet.’

  Mitch nodded and made his way to the living room. Evelyn took a seat at the kitchen table. Evelyn made small talk for a few minutes while Bea made a pot of tea, set out two of her good teacups and a mug for Mitch—she knew he wouldn’t appreciate drinking from the delicate heirloom china—and put out a plate of Anzac biscuits she’d baked the week before.

  ‘Right,’ said Mitch. ‘That’s all done. It’ll be toasty warm in there pretty soon.’

  Evelyn added a little milk to her tea. ‘Pretty jug, Beatrice.’

  ‘Thank you. It belonged to my nonna originally.’ She looked up at Mitch. ‘So, may I ask, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?’

  Evelyn sat her cup down on its saucer. ‘Callum has told me a little bit about your predicament.’

  Bea shot Mitch a furious glance, before looking back at his mother. ‘I’m so sorry, Evelyn. I wanted to tell you myself. I honestly had no idea this was going to happen.’

  ‘Hush now. There’s no need to apologise. Sometimes the unexpected happens in life. What we need to focus on now is a solution to your problem.’

  Bea sighed. ‘You’re very kind, but I don’t think there is a solution. I’m not sure how much Mitch has told you, but it’s pretty clear to me that I can’t afford to open the B&B like I’d planned to.’

  ‘Callum hasn’t told me much. Just that you got an unexpected bill—something to do with your ex-husband—and that now you’re in a bit of strife with paying for the renovations.’

  ‘Well, I guess that’s it in a nutshell,’ Bea said.

  ‘Was Fiona able to help?’ Mitch asked.

  ‘Yes and no. Things have been sorted out with the tax office, so I need not fear being dragged away to prison,’ Bea said.

  Evelyn reached over and patted her hand lightly. ‘I’m sure that was never on the cards, dear. We would never let such a thing happen.’

  Bea smiled at her kindness. ‘Fiona helped me negotiate a payment plan with the ATO. I have to pay five thousand dollars right away and then I can pay off the rest over the next two years.’

  ‘That’s a start,’ Mitch said. ‘But I guess that still puts a dent in your savings.’

  Bea nodded. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to pay for the renovations now. It’s just not possible.’

  ‘Ah, now that’s where we come in,’ Evelyn said.

  Bea put up her hand to indicate for Evelyn to stop. ‘That’s so kind of you, really it is. But I’ve already explained to Mitch that I can’t accept financial assistance.’

  Evelyn shook her head. ‘I completely respect that decision, Beatrice, and let me tell you it only makes me regard you in even higher esteem than I already did. But it’s not financial help we’re offering.’

  ‘Oh?’ Bea creased her brow in confusion. ‘What then?’

  ‘What if we could accomplish the renovation without you having to pay a cent?’ Mitch asked. ‘Would that be enough for you to get back on your feet?’

  ‘In theory that’d be fantastic, but I don’t see how …’

  ‘We’ve taken care of all the details,’ Evelyn said, the delight obvious in her tone of voice. ‘All you need to do is give us the go-ahead.’

  Bea looked at Mitch. ‘I don’t understand. What’s going on here?’

  ‘I’ve made a few calls, been to see a few people and I think we can get your new kitchen built and the rest of the renovations taken care of without you having to spend any more money,’ Mitch replied.

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘People have offered to help out by doing the work for nothing,’ Mitch said.

  ‘Sort of like a town working bee,’ Evelyn chipped in.

  ‘Lots of people here have general carpentry skills. Farmers are a pretty handy lot. You said your brother was going to come up and do the plumbing, right?’

  Bea nodded, dumbstruck for the moment.

  ‘Well, if he can do that we can take care of eve
rything else. It’s not just labour people have offered. Alicia says she has heaps of leftover paint from when we had the working bee on the main street, which you can have, and she’s volunteered along with Caitlin to help you paint. Lachlan’s volunteered his services for whatever’s needed. Apparently he’s a jack-of-all-trades.’ He pulled a ragged piece of paper out of his pocket. ‘I’ve got a list of a dozen people here who’ve offered to help in some way. We’ve got an electrician, people who have experience with building and tiling. Pretty much everything you need.’

  ‘And the CWA ladies have offered to cater for a full weekend to help you feed the volunteers,’ Evelyn said.

  Bea sat silently for a moment. She didn’t know how she felt about all of this, let alone what she should say. On the one hand she was enormously grateful to Evelyn and Mitch, and to all the people who’d offered to help. She couldn’t imagine something like this happening back in the city. One of the great things about living in a small town was how the locals all pulled together to help each other out. On the other hand, she was embarrassed that it had come to this. She’d come to Dulili to prove to herself she could be independent. Now it seemed she was a charity case.

  ‘I honestly don’t know what to say.’

  Mitch grinned. ‘Just say “yes” and then we can start planning the logistics.’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s not that I’m not grateful for the offer. I truly am. But when I came here to start my life over I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t depend on anyone else ever again. If I accept this offer, I’ll be breaking my promise to myself.’

  Mitch opened his mouth to protest, but Evelyn shook her head at him. ‘I understand, Beatrice,’ she said. ‘And perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Dulili is not the place for you.’

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Let me finish, Callum.’ Evelyn’s tone was firm, and Mitch acquiesced, albeit with a scowl on his face.

  ‘When you first applied for this house I told you that living in Dulili would be very different to what you were used to. You seemed to think you would cope with that, but it’s really hard to know whether country life is for you until you’ve lived it.’