Cripes I have been dreading this. Not because I owe money. I reckon I am actually owed a few quid. The Mrs reckons the same. So this morning we are both sitting at computers and off we go.
The Mrs asks how to spell my middle name? Z –A-C-C-H-A-E-U-S – easy? She thinks she can claim a married couples allowance but I point out that we got married in September and this refers to the year ended April 5. To think that her father is an accountant. As it happens Zacchaeus was himself a tax collector from Jerichi. It was also the name of the first of my ancestors to move over to Ireland in the 1600s.
Sadly I fare no better having lost my Unique Tax Reference number. So I call and after navigating a voice recognition system I get through to a lovely lady from the HMRC who says that someone has already submitted a paper return for me. Who? Who cares? I am off the hook. But she will send me a copy so I can check the sums and hopefully claim back a few quid.
What a result. A task dreaded is done thanks to my mystery guardian angel.