Free Dirty Fracking Business by Peter Ralph Page B

deserve this?’
    ‘They know that you’ve been model customers, but they’re concerned about the security.’
    ‘Are they stark raving mad? They have the property as security, the orchard as security, the vegetable gardens as security and the equipment as security. What do you mean they’re worried about the security? Jesus, for every dollar we’ve borrowed, the bank’s got two as security.’
    ‘No, that’s what it used to have.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘Jenny, you know that your neighbours, the Cleevers, signed an access agreement with CEGL, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes, of course I do. The poor old things were conned into signing and CEGL was never going to let ’em off the hook. They lost six acres of their land and inherited three bloody gas wells that they’d do anything to get rid of. But what’s that got to do with us?’ Jenny squeezed her husband’s hand.
    ‘The powers that be in Sydney had your property valued and those gas wells really knocked the value about. The valuer discounted your property on the basis of who’d want to buy it when there’s three ugly, possibly poisonous gas wells right next door. Worse, the Cleevers’ property is on the high side of the hill and you’re both drawing your water from the same source.’
    The Orrs were shocked. They had toiled from dawn to dusk on the property for nearly fifteen years and had never failed to increase its productivity and yield. They had been increasing the cash flow of the business while at same time thinking that they were increasing the value of the property.
    ‘What about the value of the produce?’ Jenny was stunned. ‘We’re going to have a record year and supermarkets and health food shops are paying premium prices for organics.’
    Andrew felt gutted. He had not slept the previous night and had discussed with his wife, Sally, handing in his resignation; but where was he going to get another job? He had no university degree, had been with the FBA for twenty years, was approaching forty and the only chance he would have of getting another position was with another bank, but even that was doubtful. He had a low-interest-rate housing loan that he would have to pay out if he quit; a fully maintained car that he would lose; and he had three children to provide for. There was no way he could buck his superiors in Sydney, or resign.
    ‘I’m sorry, but my bosses don’t think you’re going to be able to sell your produce as organic anymore.’
    ‘All because of those bloody gas wells, which aren’t even on our property?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘How long have we got?’
    ‘Thirty days.’
    ‘We’ll find another bank.’
    ‘I really hope you can, but you should know that they’re also reviewing their clients’ loan security.’
    ‘What happens if we can’t?’
    Andrew felt Jenny’s eyes glaring at him and he didn’t have the courage to look directly at her. ‘The bank will appoint a mortgagee in possession to sell your property.’
    ‘And we’ll get nothing for it. Only bottom feeders turn up to mortgagee’s auctions. By the time the mortgagee in possession takes his fees and you recover your principal, interest and legal fees, we’ll get nothing.’
    ‘So CEGL’s gas wells killed us,’ Craig growled. ‘How does that work?’
    ‘What about the wineries?’ Jenny asked. ‘Did those hard-hearted bosses of yours get the wineries valued too?’
    ‘I can’t say.’
    ‘You just did. How many, Andrew? How many wineries are you going to close? You’re going to destroy families and land values throughout the valley.’
    ‘I’m sorry, I can’t say.’ Andrew cringed, knowing that in the next month he would repeat this scenario at least twenty times with people who were friends and whom he had known for years. He fought the urge to puke and felt himself starting to choke. He wanted to say, It’s not me, it’s CEGL and it’s the gas wells, but how could he? CEGL was one of the bank’s biggest accounts in Sydney, its