One of Us Is Lying - Shalini Boland Page 0,7

tax audit. I don’t remember ever reading anything like this. If I had, I wouldn’t have ignored it. But, then again, did I even open the original letters? I stare over at my in-tray on the shelf, it’s piled high with unopened mail that I keep meaning to get around to dealing with. I’m such an idiot.

‘So, as you can see by the dates on the letters,’ Cathleen says, ‘we gave you plenty of notice regarding your tax audit, which we’ll be starting today.’

‘A tax audit? Today?’ A chill runs down my spine and my mind begins to race. I try to keep the panic out of my voice. If only I’d opened those letters, I would have had some advance warning. I could have… I don’t know… been more prepared. I clear my throat. ‘Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?’

‘We hope not,’ John says without smiling.

‘So why do I need to have an audit?’ I think about my books and receipts. Try to think whether there might be anything bad for these inspectors to find. Anything incriminating. But my brain doesn’t want to work properly.

‘We’ll need access to all your business records. Your receipts, client information et cetera.’ Cathleen looks around, eying up the shelves and filing cabinets. ‘Is this where you keep everything?’

I nod, feeling like some kind of criminal, which is ridiculous. I work hard, I pay my taxes.

‘Okay, so we’ll set up in here, if that’s okay?’

‘Set up? I don’t understand.’

‘It’s an audit, an investigation,’ John says. ‘We’re going to look at everything and make sure it’s all in order.’

‘You’re going to go through all my stuff?’

Cathleen grinds her teeth. ‘If you’d read the letters we sent you’d know exactly what the procedure is.’

‘I…’

‘Why don’t you take the paperwork out there and read through it.’ John’s tone is a little gentler. ‘Then you can ask any questions when you’re done.’

‘But can’t you at least tell me why you’re here? Did I do something wrong?’

‘Just read through the paperwork,’ he repeats.

The enormity of what they’re saying is beginning to sink in. I try to slow my breathing, wipe my sweating palms down the side of my dress. This investigation is going to mess up everything. And I’m not just talking about my business.

Cathleen makes a rising motion with her hand, coaxing me up out of my chair and back out into the showroom. I grip the sheaf of letters between my sweaty fingers and head over to the conference table as the door to my office closes behind me with a firm click. I’ve been ejected from my own office.

I start to read the letters, skimming through to see if I can find out why they’ve targeted my business, but there’s nothing here to give me any idea as to why they’re here. I snatch up my phone and do a quick Google search for possible reasons for tax audits. The results list several reasons why an investigation might have been triggered, including: mistakes on tax returns, omission of income, no accountant and unjustified expense claims. But it’s the last one that has me really worried:

A tip-off.

Could someone have contacted the tax office about my business?

Why would they do that? And, more importantly, who could it be?

Three

Thursday

KELLY

‘Have a good day, guys.’ I rest one hand on the front-door frame as I watch my sons head off up the road to school. It’s only a five-minute walk away with no busy roads to cross, so now that Ryan’s eleven, I said they could both go without me, as long as Ryan keeps an eye on Sonny. I love that they’re getting more independent, but it’s a shame I don’t get to catch up with Tia at the school gates any more. I miss our daily chats.

Right now, it’s quiet as the grave out there, most of the other houses still with their curtains drawn, their occupants still asleep. My two are going in to school extra early today, as I’ve volunteered them to help out with preparations for Saturday’s regatta. Ryan didn’t thank me for the early-morning wake-up call, but it’s good for them to help out.

Dark-haired like his father, Ryan lopes with long strides while his eight-year-old brother bounces along beside him, chatting incessantly. They’re complete opposites – Sonny has fair hair and a cheerful nature, like me I suppose, while Ryan is quiet and introspective. Right now, he’ll be gritting his teeth and telling Sonny to stop talking, to stop being so ‘annoying’,

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