must have been mad.
With an audible growl, pushed out through gritted teeth, she ordered herself to get back to work and picked up the telephone to tell Len Scoffer that she needed to talk to him again. His line was engaged and so she started to plough through all the other files she had been given, doggedly refusing to let herself think of Tom.
As the day wore on she felt as though she were getting to know many of the taxpayers who were, or recently had been, in dispute with Kate and Scoffer. Most of them seemed to her to be fundamentally honest, if sometimes rather silly, but every so often she would come across one like Joe Wraggeley, whose letters and tax returns would have aroused plenty of suspicions in her mind if she had been an inspector.
It was not until late afternoon that she found any cases that had ended at all strangely, and then she came across one concerning an architect called Simon Creke. He had got into a mess over an unprecedentedly successful year, during which he had won a lucrative architectural prize, as well as earning far more in fees than ever before or since.
When Kate had written to ask him whether he had had any sources of income other than those listed in his accounts, he had told her at once about the prize, claiming that his accountant (who was not chartered) had advised him that money from prizes was not taxable. Kate had disputed that, writing to explain that prizes from the competitions entered in the course of carrying out a trade or profession were indeed taxable. After an increasingly acrimonious exchange of letters, during which she had told the accountant that she would be imposing large penalties, she had effectively ordered both him and his client to come to her office for a meeting.
Kateâs notes of that meeting made it clear that the accountant was sticking by his guns. Then there was an apparent gap in the files, after which there was a letter from a different accountant with plenty of initials after his name, dated seven weeks after the meeting, suggesting a protracted repayment schedule for the original tax demand, but making no mention of penalties that Kate had written about in one of her earliest letters. The file made it clear that Simon Creke was faithfully repaying the tax but it gave no dues as to why Kate should have let him off the penalty.
Willow was still working when Kate walked past the open door of Mrs Patelâs office on her way out of the building at seven-thirty.
âYouâre very dedicated,â Kate said, stopping in the doorway.
Taking the comment at face value, Willow smiled noncommittally, still determined not to tell anyone in the tax office about Tom or explain why she did not want to go back to her empty house. âI havenât very long in which to prepare this report for the Merk, and I want to make it as comprehensive as possible,â she said, using Kateâs nickname for the minister partly out of amusement and partly to try to build some kind of bond between them. âI imagine the last thing you want is for me or anyone else to have to come back to ask more questions.â
âYouâre right there.â Kate also seemed to be making an unusual effort to be pleasant. She produced a smile but it looked more like a grimace than an expression of pleasure or affection. âItâs considerate of you. But you ought to stop now. I have a settled policy here that the staff work no longer than their contractual hours except in seriously dire emergencies. Itâs too easy for any group of people to sink into bad habits, egging each other on to stay later and later each day. All that happens is that they do less and less in each hour they spend, and ruin their private lives and mental health. I know youâre not staff, but all the sameâ¦â
âI know what you mean, but I want to get this finished. Are you in a great hurry, or have you a moment to spare? There are one or two things I still donât
With an audible growl, pushed out through gritted teeth, she ordered herself to get back to work and picked up the telephone to tell Len Scoffer that she needed to talk to him again. His line was engaged and so she started to plough through all the other files she had been given, doggedly refusing to let herself think of Tom.
As the day wore on she felt as though she were getting to know many of the taxpayers who were, or recently had been, in dispute with Kate and Scoffer. Most of them seemed to her to be fundamentally honest, if sometimes rather silly, but every so often she would come across one like Joe Wraggeley, whose letters and tax returns would have aroused plenty of suspicions in her mind if she had been an inspector.
It was not until late afternoon that she found any cases that had ended at all strangely, and then she came across one concerning an architect called Simon Creke. He had got into a mess over an unprecedentedly successful year, during which he had won a lucrative architectural prize, as well as earning far more in fees than ever before or since.
When Kate had written to ask him whether he had had any sources of income other than those listed in his accounts, he had told her at once about the prize, claiming that his accountant (who was not chartered) had advised him that money from prizes was not taxable. Kate had disputed that, writing to explain that prizes from the competitions entered in the course of carrying out a trade or profession were indeed taxable. After an increasingly acrimonious exchange of letters, during which she had told the accountant that she would be imposing large penalties, she had effectively ordered both him and his client to come to her office for a meeting.
Kateâs notes of that meeting made it clear that the accountant was sticking by his guns. Then there was an apparent gap in the files, after which there was a letter from a different accountant with plenty of initials after his name, dated seven weeks after the meeting, suggesting a protracted repayment schedule for the original tax demand, but making no mention of penalties that Kate had written about in one of her earliest letters. The file made it clear that Simon Creke was faithfully repaying the tax but it gave no dues as to why Kate should have let him off the penalty.
Willow was still working when Kate walked past the open door of Mrs Patelâs office on her way out of the building at seven-thirty.
âYouâre very dedicated,â Kate said, stopping in the doorway.
Taking the comment at face value, Willow smiled noncommittally, still determined not to tell anyone in the tax office about Tom or explain why she did not want to go back to her empty house. âI havenât very long in which to prepare this report for the Merk, and I want to make it as comprehensive as possible,â she said, using Kateâs nickname for the minister partly out of amusement and partly to try to build some kind of bond between them. âI imagine the last thing you want is for me or anyone else to have to come back to ask more questions.â
âYouâre right there.â Kate also seemed to be making an unusual effort to be pleasant. She produced a smile but it looked more like a grimace than an expression of pleasure or affection. âItâs considerate of you. But you ought to stop now. I have a settled policy here that the staff work no longer than their contractual hours except in seriously dire emergencies. Itâs too easy for any group of people to sink into bad habits, egging each other on to stay later and later each day. All that happens is that they do less and less in each hour they spend, and ruin their private lives and mental health. I know youâre not staff, but all the sameâ¦â
âI know what you mean, but I want to get this finished. Are you in a great hurry, or have you a moment to spare? There are one or two things I still donât
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