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Tara was in her office, girding her loins. Cold-calling the council felt like the worst kind of punishment, but she had no choice. Land management seemed like the safest bet.

As she pulled up their number, her thoughts flitted back to the near-miss with Amelia. Paige had come so close to blowing it for her. Luck, she thought grimly, was all that saved her.

But that was only half the problem. Tara hated to admit to herself, but she was embarrassed. It was bad enough to be caught up in your ex’s drama, but with Amelia watching? Tara cringed.

Did Amelia even understand what she’d seen? And if so, how did that even land in a place like Solhaven? Was she shocked? Or maybe just quietly filing it away as some modern-world nonsense?

Tara couldn’t decide what was more horrifying, having to dig through council bureaucracy or knowing she might be the talk of some commune knitting circle by the end of the week.

Anyway, time to pound the audio pavement.

‘Good morning, Department of Land Management,’ a voice said, crackling through the phone. ‘How can I help you today?’

‘Hi, I’m looking for someone who handles land leases for Solhaven.’

‘Solhaven?’ The voice on the other end sounded baffled. ‘That’s not really in our jurisdiction.’

‘Right. But someone there sent a person named Amelia to handle it, and she’s lost the details, so I’m trying to track down—’

‘Let me transfer you.’

A click. And then hold music. Mamma Mia. Fucking weird choice.

Tara listened to the up-tempo nonsense until finally, after about a thousand years, a new voice came on the line.

‘Hi! This is Margaret with the Department of Urban Planning. How can I assist you?’

‘Right, I’m looking for someone to talk to about Solhaven’s land lease—’

‘Land lease? That’s not something we handle. You’ll want the Department of Environmental Affairs for that.’

‘Environmental Affairs? I’m pretty sure this is about the lease, not the environment,’ Tara said, rubbing her temples. She could already feel a headache coming on. ‘Please, just put me through to whoever handles this. I’m dealing with a person here who’s—look, she’s got no clue what’s going on, and I’m trying to help her out—’

Margaret cut in, unperturbed. ‘Just a second.’

More Mamma Mia.

‘Good afternoon, this is Thomas, I handle—’

‘Thomas, I’m trying to get information about a Solhaven land lease. Someone named Amelia was sent to handle it.’

‘I think that sort of thing goes through the regional council.’

‘No idea. All I know is that Amelia has a meeting scheduled. But she has no contact, no information. No nothing.’

‘Okaay… Let me just...’ There was a long pause and then the sound of fingers typing furiously. ‘Hmm. Doesn’t seem like anyone’s processed anything on their end. Have you tried the Solicitor’s office?’

‘The who?’ Tara felt her heart sink.

‘The Solicitor’s office. They usually deal with land rights stuff for out-of-town parties. I’d say that’s your best bet.’

Tara took a deep breath, squeezing the bridge of her nose. ‘Right. Solicitor’s office. Great. Let me guess: You’ll transfer me?’

‘My phone can’t do that, but I can give you the number?’

Tara rolled her eyes. ‘Thanks.’ He gave her the number, and she noted it down.

‘Good luck!’ Thomas said brightly and hung up on her.

Tara rubbed her temples and glared at the clock. It was only 10 a.m., but it felt like she’d been at this for hours.

Tara took a deep breath, dialled the Solicitor’s office, and braced herself for more bureaucracy. The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally, a voice picked up, clipped and efficient.

‘Solicitor’s office. This is Jenny speaking.’

‘Hi, Jenny,’ Tara began, injecting as much charm as she could muster into her voice. ‘I’m trying to get some clarity on a land lease for Solhaven. It’s a bit of an urgent situation involving a representative they’ve sent—Amelia. I was told your office handles this sort of thing?’

‘Solhaven?’ Jenny repeated. ‘That’s usually referred to our External Affairs liaison. Let me see if I can find their extension for you.’

Tara’s stomach sank. ‘I’ve already spoken to Land Management, Urban Planning, and Environmental Affairs. Everyone keeps telling me to call someone else. Please, I just need a straight answer on who is responsible.’

‘Well,’ Jenny said, undeterred by Tara’s growing irritation, ‘I can transfer you to the person I believe is responsible. Just one moment.’

Before Tara could protest, she was back on hold. This time, it was Dancing Queen.

She let her head thunk on the desk as the tinny strains of ABBA washed over her, her patience fraying with every cheery beat.

Finally, the hold music clicked off, and a gruff voice came on the line. ‘Paul here. What’s the issue?’

Tara had no idea who Paul was or what he did, but she went in hard. ‘Paul,’ Tara said through gritted teeth, praying this was the last stop. ‘I need to find out who Amelia from Solhaven is supposed to speak with about their land lease. Nobody seems to know.’

‘Ah, Solhaven,’ Paul said knowingly. ‘You’ll want the Heritage Liaison for that.’

Tara groaned. ‘The what now?’

‘Heritage Liaison. Solhaven’s a protected cultural site, isn’t it? Most likely, they’ll be your contact.’

Tara opened her mouth to protest, to demand clarity, but all that came out was a dry laugh. ‘You know what, Paul? Fine. Sure. Let’s add another department to this scavenger hunt. Can you transfer me?’

‘Of course. Hold tight.’

Dancing Queen came back. By the time this was over, Tara thought she’d either be a council expert or completely insane. Maybe both.