Two friends feared becoming another Australian homeless statistic. Instead they got a mortgage together

‘We’re lucky that we’ve known each other for so long. If we argue it usually ends up with us giggling.’ Fiona Harrison got a mortgage with a friend to buy a house they live in together. Photograph: Thomas Barwick/Getty Images

When Fiona Harrison’s electricity bills topped $1,200 a quarter, she knew she needed to take action, or face a “slippery slope” towards housing insecurity.

“I had always been struggling,” the 61-year-old says, remembering the one-bedroom home in Millthorpe, in New South Wales’ central west, in which she lived alone. Cold winters and warm summers in her fibro cottage meant “astronomical” power bills for the Wiradjuri woman and chocolate maker.

Her close friend in nearby Orange was in a similar position, living from one utilities bill payment plan to the next. The 62-year-old, who does not want to be named, is unable to work because of ill-health.

“It became apparent to us that we were in real trouble,” says Harrison. “We just looked at each other and asked ‘What are we doing?’”

They resolved to sell their homes and buy a property together. They wanted a garden, easier access to healthcare in Sydney and space for Harrison’s chocolate-making equipment. They wanted warmer winters and altitude to ease the humidity of the summer months.

They’d co-own the home, share a small loan, split bills and divide house and garden work – if they could find a property that ticked the boxes.

“We couldn’t afford to move into Sydney, so we started to search in concentric circles around Sydney,” Harrison says.

Wollongong was an option, but there, their price range led to properties that needed a lot of work. For eight months, they rented, stayed with friends and grew more “despairing”. Days before their loan pre-approval expired in late 2022, they found the place.

“It’s down a little lane. There’s an easement behind us and it’s full of native trees, so when I look out the window it looks like I’ve got bushland behind me. It’s a lovely little pocket within suburbia,” Harrison says of their three-bedroom home in Moss Vale, in NSW’s southern highlands.

With an en suite bathroom each, two living spaces, a triple garage for Harrison’s chocolate production and a patio, the pair have the house they wanted, plus the security that comes with shared responsibility and company.

The nine-hour round trip to Sydney is now a “much more doable” three. A train from Moss Vale to central Sydney takes an hour and 50 minutes.

Harrison has breakfast on the patio near a she-oak that reminds her of the riverbanks of Wiradjuri country, and they’ve fallen into a routine without having to agree on roles – she jokes that she cleans up while her friend cooks.

“We’re lucky that we’ve known each other for so long. If we argue it usually ends up with us giggling,” she says. “We’re like two old bickering biddies.”

Their housing conundrum is not uncommon, but society is so geared towards family homes, couples and downsizing in old age that people regularly ask if they are a couple, or sisters.

“We just say we’re friends who’ve decided to collaborate,” says Harrison.

Before that collaboration, she and her friend faced joining a growing cohort of Australians: female, single, older and homeless.

According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, homelessness in older women grew by 40% between 2011 and 2021. A 2020 report found that 405,000 women over the age of 45 were at risk of homelessness, their vulnerability accentuated by lower lifetime earnings and savings.

Yumi Lee, the chief executive officer of the Older Women’s Network of NSW, says Harrison and her friend fall into a category she calls “younger older women” who have some savings and thus don’t qualify for government housing, but who cannot afford to buy a home as a single person.

“The government needs to step up and make it easier for people to do things like this – their policy settings have resulted in people being insecure and homeless,” she says.

“It’s a lot cheaper to live as a couple than it is as a single person. If you can split the cost of running a household, it makes sense.”

The proviso is to go into the arrangement with open eyes, aware of what can go wrong, says Fiona York, executive officer at Housing for the Aged Action Group.

She says single women are being forced to think outside the box as they approach old age.

“It’s the first time I’ve come across friends buying but it doesn’t surprise me because so many older women in this cohort have survived by being innovative and resilient,” she says. “It’s coming out of necessity. But ideally we’d have a lot more housing options available to older women.”

You either make change or it’s a slippery slope.

Harrison knows she came close to a bad ending.

“When I experienced the hardship with the bills, I thought, it’s not going to end well. You either make change or it’s a slippery slope,” she says.

She still has “what the hell have we done?” moments when she worries about the mortgage, “but I feel like there needed to be action taken and the action has been taken”.

“We’re in a much better place so that we can have some sort of quality later in life.”