Cathy Sharp - Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

‘Angela, just the person! I’d like you to meet Henry Arnold,’ he beamed, ushering her towards an extremely attractive young man. ‘Henry, this is Mrs Morton, one of the unpaid angels who keep our little charity run—’ He broke off as the door opened to admit another new arrival, then hurried over to greet them, Angela and her new companion immediately forgotten.

‘Mr Arnold, I had no idea you would be coming tonight,’ Angela said, extending her hand to him. ‘I knew we had whittled the list of prospective builders down to three, but I thought it was to be decided this evening …’

‘Please, call me Henry,’ he said, giving her a smile that lit his blue eyes with a dazzling brilliance. ‘I think I precipitated things rather. Stan Bridges is the director of a firm for whom I have recently built a block of offices and he mentioned over a drink that this project was open for tender.’

‘So you thought you would jump the gun and present yourself uninvited?’

The note of annoyance in her voice was too pronounced to be mistaken, and Henry Arnold’s expression betrayed a flash of pique that gave way to amusement. ‘You’ve got me wrong, Angela,’ he said, a faint northern accent discernible. ‘Stan asked me to come this evening to meet you and some of the others. You see, he thinks my proposition is too good to be missed.’

‘And what is your proposition, exactly?’ Angela replied coolly. She didn’t care for his presumption in using her first name without invitation.

‘I’ve been invited to pitch my plans to you this evening,’ he said. ‘Basically, I’ve told Stan that I will not only match any offer from my rivals, I’ll take twenty per cent off it – and give as good quality or better.’

‘And what will you get out of it?’

‘The pleasure of knowing six families will have decent homes to live in at rents they can afford,’ he replied. ‘I’m a wealthy man, Angela. My father made a fortune up north from his mills – and I’ve taken up where he left off. Since I came out of the Army I’ve gone into building on my own account and there’s more work than I ever dreamed of. Once the brick ovens really get going again, we’ll see houses shooting up all over the country. We’re building a better Britain, and everyone must benefit from that – I hope you’ll agree?’

‘Yes, I do agree that we want decent homes at affordable rents,’ Angela said, wondering why she’d immediately felt hostility towards this man. She knew the charity board would be likely to agree to his proposals – how could they refuse such an offer? Yet she wondered what the catch was – what he hoped to gain. He struck her as altogether too smooth, too good to be true. ‘But why should you offer us such a bargain?’

‘I make my money from the rich men who can afford large office buildings in the centre of London and other big cities. My firm is delighted to take every penny we can from them, but when it comes to deserving causes, I’m a different animal. I like to help those who need it – and I’m told you’re the same.’

‘I support good causes, but I don’t have the kind of fortune I imagine you have at your disposal.’

The corner of Henry Arnold’s mouth lifted in what she took to be a superior smirk. ‘Not many do, Angela. My father gave me a damned good start and I’ve built on his work. I dare say I could live in comfort for the rest of my life without lifting a finger – but why should I? Particularly when I can use some of my money to help those that need it.’

‘I can’t think of a single reason,’ Angela conceded, realising she was beaten. He seemed insufferably arrogant, but she supposed he had every right to be given his wealth and his good works. ‘I suppose I must thank you for coming to our aid. Twenty per cent is a lot of money – but I intend to get those other estimates, Mr Arnold. I will specify exactly what we want, and I shall expect to get it.’

‘Naturally. I wouldn’t expect anything less of you. I’ve been informed you’re very efficient – a dragon lady, I’m told, when it comes to protecting your children at St Saviour’s.’

‘A dragon lady? I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m only too happy to go into battle for the home and do whatever I can to help Sister Beatrice. Now she is a dragon lady if ever there was one.’

‘So I hear. I know the builder you employed at St Saviour’s – he swears he’d never work for you again even if the alternative was going broke. Sister Beatrice questioned every last thing he did – and he caught the sharp edge of your tongue a few times, I believe.’

‘Indeed?’ Angela glared at him. ‘I merely pointed out various areas where the work was not up to standard and refused to pay until it was finished to my satisfaction.’

‘And will you do the same where I’m concerned?’

‘Certainly I shall.’

‘Good. If any of my men let you down, they won’t work for me again I can promise you. You’ll find my standards are as high as your own, Angela.’

She was about to disabuse him of the notion that they were on first-name terms, when the chairman called everyone to take their seats so the meeting could begin.

‘I’ll call in and see you,’ Henry Arnold whispered to her as they moved towards the committee room. ‘I want to see where you work. I know you’re always looking for funds for your orphans and I might be able to help …’

Angela did not answer. Something told her that he’d come to this meeting in order to meet her and yet she couldn’t for the life of her think why. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she felt he’d deliberately provoked her, trying to gain her interest. If so, his plan had backfired. She was in no mood for arrogant men who thought they were more important than everyone else.

Suddenly a meeting that had promised to be dull and tedious had Angela alert and eager to hear every word. This man would bear watching; his promises sounded generous but all too often when something seemed to be too good to be true, it was. Well, if he thought he could pull the wool over her eyes, he was mistaken. She didn’t care if he were as rich as Croesus, when it came to St Saviour’s she would brook no interference.

‘It’s so lovely to see you, Michelle,’ Alice said as she welcomed her into the ground floor flat that her husband had rented for them. ‘Bob’s away at the moment – the Army sent him to protect someone at a political conference in France – and it feels strange being here on my own with the baby.’

‘I expect you miss him.’ Michelle gave her the small posy of flowers she’d bought in the market on her way over. ‘How are you in yourself?’

‘I’m really well. I get tired when she cries all night, but I know all babies do that and it’s to be expected.’ Alice sighed, feeling scruffy and lacklustre, especially when she looked at Michelle, who was as slim and attractive as ever. Her blue-black hair gleamed with health, whilst Alice felt hers looked dull and lifeless. ‘My sister came by yesterday. She tells me I should be happy that I’ve got a nice home and a good husband, but Mave doesn’t understand how lonely it gets when he’s away.’

‘I can see how you would feel a bit miserable sometimes,’ Michelle smiled. ‘But you’ve got an adorable baby girl and a devoted husband, when he’s home.’ She laughed as Alice pulled a face. ‘Cheer up, love. Angela told me to invite you to the Church Hall on Saturday. She’s having another one of her clothing sales, and she’s putting food on. I said you might help out by making tea – that is, if you felt able?’