“Twenty-five thousand, seven hundred income and just under twenty-three thousand seven hundred expenses. I’m rounding up here. I know the numbers sound rather high, and they are much higher than last year, but things tend to reverse on the day, more going into the income column.”
“Naturally,” said Arlene. “We’ll have revenue from the side stalls, the cake competition, more calendar sales and the football team date raffle. And this year, with the associated publicity due to the success of the calendar launch, we’re expecting a bumper turnout.”
Everyone nodded their agreement, even Mikey, who had never been a fan of Arlene. Maybe having his photo in the local paper had softened his mood towards her. At least, that’s how it looked to Nathan.
“Talking about the calendar launch, I spent some time chatting with Jenny Nwadike about the impressive quality of her work. When I asked her how much she charges, she gave me a rundown of different types of events, saying she often reduced prices for charitable causes. I asked how much she’d charged us—something I realise I should have known—and she did the football shoot at no charge, partly because she’s a friend of yours, Arlene, and partly because she knew the proceeds would go to charity. Is that correct?”
“It is.”
“That’s very worthy. Another quick question. The quote and invoice from the caterers that night, Business Bites, came to seven and a half thousand pounds.”
“These things are not cheap when you hire the finest.”
“I see. And I was really impressed with the spread of food and drink. On behalf of the school, I asked the company for a comparable quote for a special celebration with two hundred teachers and parents—an end-of-term get-together. The quote came in at just over three thousand pounds for similar food and drink, which I found a little odd. Less than half the price.”
“Clearly, they assessed who you were—an educational facility catering to teachers and parents—and quoted accordingly with a more moderate fare. Caterers do that all the time to get the business. Did they mention what champagne they would be serving?”
“Would that make a difference?”
“Naturally. The price differential between standard and quality champagne is significant. Higher-end clients expect better because they can taste the difference.”
“Based on my teaching salary, I’ll have to take your word for that. But anyway, I asked Katherine to do a little digging for me then, and do you want to hear something interesting?”
“As long as you’re quick,” said Arlene.
“I’d like to hear,” said Mikey. Nathan shrugged, but Father Mulligan nodded his agreement. Doris had been resting her eyes but was listening because she provided a gentle nod.
“Business Bites catering company is owned by none other than Jemima Hargrove, your sister-in-law. Did anyone here know that?”
Instead of the consternation Polly might have expected, the room remained deathly silent. Arlene had stopped whatever she was doing and sat bolt upright in her chair, her eyes entirely on Polly.
“Business Bites is a bona fide, highly reputable catering company I’ve used on many occasions. I have no business interest in the company if that’s what you’re alluding to.”
“Then I suppose we all have to ask ourselves, what happened to the additional four thousand pounds?”
“Polly,” began Nathan.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about—” began Arlene.
“I haven’t finished. You also succeeded in getting Shawbanks, Radleigh and Posner to sponsor the fête, which, admittedly, is a major coup. Until Katherine did some digging for me. Guess who their new Regional Head of Business Development is? Would you like to tell everyone, Arlene?”
“You work for Shawbanks, Radleigh and Posner?” asked Mikey, his anger palpable. “Those bastards made a bid for my shop. Did they approach you too, Nathan?”
“No,” said Nathan truthfully.
“Didn't they come to see you too, Doris?”
Doris had relaxed back in the armchair. Her head had lolled to one side on one of the wings of the chair, her eyes still closed. Father Mulligan leant over, smiled, and gently patted her shoulder.
“She prefers to sleep through conflict,” he murmured.
“Let her be,” said Nathan.
“She told me last week they’d approached her,” said Mikey, his temper unabated. “If that’s the case, were you behind those offers, Arlene? Is that the only reason you joined this committee, so you could get to know us all and attempt to have our businesses bought out?”
“Of course not. Don’t be so melodramatic, Michael. First of all, where I choose to work bears no relation to the role I’m performing here. There is no conflict of interest. Secondly, long before I joined SRP, they had a team of consultants who investigated acquisitions. Where they choose to focus their attention has nothing to do with what I do for—”
“The issue,” continued Polly, on a roll, “is whether you got that job on the sole promise of landing the lucrative advertising deal for the Crumbington Fête.”
