Money starts to run out

Money started to run low very quickly for the family. Before the UK banks had forcibly closed our accounts we transferred small amounts (as they took huge commissions and therefore wasn’t economical to do it that way) to help with setup expenses - food, rent, transport, clothes, school kits etc... When that stopped - after the accounts were forcibly closed - the clock started ticking; i had transferred a couple thousand pounds to tied us over but it was only a small amount, as i knew it would only be 3-4 weeks maximum before the savings money was either available or had been transferred. As soon as the money was taken (by Mr Darling of the UK Government) we stopped ALL spending. Around here at this time of years lots of fruit trees in the parks are dropping and a number of local shops waste vast quantities of food that is out of date. At night I'd started getting food from the bins and fruit from the trees. It felt shameful, but hearing the kids saying they were hungry was worse. We couldn't go to the social here as we didn’t qualify (why should Aussies pay for someone who has just arrived and never paid a dollar in Australian tax?!) and charities are obliged to inform the authorities. The neighbours had found out very quickly from the kids chatting to kids and clubbed round to fill the fridge with food – and even a 6-pack of beer! – to help out. While a God-send, it was sheer humiliation; with all the local neighbours in the living room I had to stand and fully explain what had happened. All the sympathetic noises were very ‘nice’ but I just squirmed; I/we had always paid our way through life and had never had to be dependant on anyone else. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me up.
Penny and myself sat down that night and getting slightly hammered on the beer and wine (another neighbor had brought a bottle of Shiraz for us) we made the dreadful ‘default’ plan. A lot of tears were shed that evening. We were surviving on my scrounging but we couldn’t carry on like this – for the safety of the kids more than anything – and the rent would become a real problem. Penny and the kids would return to the UK, using the last of our money and any we could borrow from her parents. Penny’s parents were not well off but had said we could have a couple of thousand pounds if needed. I would not return with them. It was a very hard decision but we could not afford to fly me out as well and Penny’s folk didn’t have much room. My parents did not know about our situation and, on the advice of my brother - my father was not in good health , we did not want to stress them. It also meant that if we did get the money back before Christmas (we didn’t believe the IoM and UK Governments would allow British families to suffer so much once they found out what was really happening and that we had had no choice in using offshore banking) then the Visa would not be invalidated by my leaving the Country. I would just have to live rough. I’d done it as a grubby backpacker twenty years previously, so could do it again; wouldn’t be pleasant but I certainly wouldn’t die of hunger and St Vincents could supply a roof some nights. It was a miserable and sleepless night. We loved each other so much and neither of us wanted this, but there was nothing we could do, the kids safety had to come first.