“I’m totally exhausted,” he admitted to Bessie. “I think I might just sleep through Christmas.”
“I’ll come over around one tomorrow, if that’s okay,” Doona told Bessie on the drive back to Laxey. “I plan to have a very lazy start to the day.”
“That’s fine,” Bessie agreed. “I’ll plan our Christmas lunch for two.”
“Perfect.”
At Bessie’s cottage, Doona insisted on coming inside to make sure everything was okay. “Don’t argue,” she told Bessie as she took the box of books from her boot.
Bessie bit her tongue and let her friend into the cottage. She hung up her coat and slipped out of her shoes while she waited for Doona to finish her inspection.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Doona said as she hugged Bessie in the doorway. “Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas,” Bessie replied.
She locked the door and then checked that all the doors and windows were shut and secure. After tucking the box of books into a corner to inspect later, she headed up to bed.
Upstairs, she changed into the new nightgown that she’d bought herself earlier in the month. When she was a child, every Christmas Eve she’d been given a new nightgown by her grandmother, and that always made the night feel even more special. Bessie didn’t buy one for herself every year, but this year she’d needed something new, and Christmas was the perfect time to get it. Now she snuggled down under her duvet feeling almost as if she were a small child again. When she woke up it would be Christmas, and she felt as if she were almost too excited to sleep.
It felt as if only minutes had passed when she next opened her eyes, but it was already just past six. Bessie got up and showered and dressed. After a short walk on the beach, she fixed herself an extra-special breakfast with pancakes dripping in the maple syrup that she had loved since childhood. For years she’d been unable to get maple syrup on the island, but increasingly exotic foodstuffs were being imported regularly now. After she put the turkey in the oven, she filled a large platter with Christmas cookies and filled the kettle with water. Now she just had to wait for friends to arrive. She didn’t have long to wait. John Rockwell was the first to knock on her door.
“I hope I’m not too early,” he said as he gave her a hug. “I have to get to Ronaldsway for my flight.”
“You know I’m always up early,” Bessie told him, switching on the kettle.
“You are,” he agreed. “I’m afraid I woke Doona.”
Bessie laughed. “She did say she was going to have a slow start today.”
“I wish I’d known,” John said. “I would have left her present on her doorstep and not knocked.”
“I’m sure she was happy to see you anyway,” Bessie said.
“I’m not,” John laughed.
“I’m so glad you’re getting to go across. I was worried that Natasha’s confession might complicate your getting away.”
“Actually, it’s made things much easier,” John replied. “Pete’s taking care of wrapping everything up, but we found the clothes she was wearing when she killed Mr. Hart in plastic bags at Thie yn Traie. I suppose she didn’t realise that Mary isn’t having the rubbish collected at the moment.”
Bessie sighed. “And she really just killed him to advance her career?” she asked. “It seems a strange motive.”
“She was already on our short list, because we spent some time looking into her past. There were a few accidents that happened to rivals of hers over the years that made her one of our chief suspects. She wouldn’t have been allowed to get on that plane. Anyway, I’ll be taking a closer look at all of that once I’m back.”
“Oh, goodness,” Bessie exclaimed.
“No one else ever died,” John told her. “But one man in particular had some very serious injuries that put him out of work for many years.”
“How awful,” Bessie said.
“Let’s talk about happier things,” John suggested. “What have you asked Father Christmas for this year?”
Bessie laughed as the kettle boiled. She fixed tea and offered John cookies. The pair chatted happily for a few minutes, until he glanced at his watch.
“I’m going to have to go,” he said. “But I do have a small present for you.” He handed Bessie a wrapped box.
“I’d like to save it for later, if I may,” Bessie told him. “Doona is coming for lunch and I thought that I’d wait and open all of my presents once she’s gone and I’m settled in for the night.”
“You may do whatever you like with it,” John assured her.
“Your gifts are under my tree,” Bessie told him. The pair walked into the sitting room and Bessie found the small pile of things for John. “There are some book tokens there for the children,” she told him as she handed everything to him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he protested.
“It’s books. Everyone should get books for Christmas,” Bessie said firmly.
John laughed. “If you insist.”
A knock on the door sent Bessie back to the kitchen. She was greeting and hugging another friend when John walked back through.
“I’d better go,” he said. He gave Bessie another hug before he left.
From there it felt to Bessie as if a steady stream of visitors flowed through her cottage. The stack of presents she’d purchased went down slowly as the pile of gifts for her grew. By the time Doona arrived, Bessie was feeling as if Christmas couldn’t get much better.
Doona brought her own pile of gifts for Bessie. They settled in the sitting room with their gifts to one another at once. Bessie wanted to save everything else for after she was done having visitors for the day.
She was delighted to see that her friend had had the same idea she’d had. “What a beautiful gift basket,” Bessie said, examining bottles of wine and bubble bath and expensive chocolate.
“Oh, snap,” Doona laughed as she opened her own basket of treats. “I have something else for you,” Doona told her. “And I don’t want any objections from you about it.”
Bessie frowned. “What have you done?” she asked nervously.
Doona laughed. “I’ve bought you something I know you want, but I also know you’ll think it was too expensive.”
“If it was expensive, I don’t want it,” Bessie said firmly.
“I used some of my inheritance,” Doona explained. “It thought it would be nice to put it to good use. You’ve no idea how grateful I am for your friendship. Please let me give this to you.”
“What is it?” Bessie asked suspiciously.
Doona laughed. “It would be easier to discuss it if you knew what I was on about,” she said. She left the room and Bessie listened as her front door opened and closed and then opened and closed again. When Doona came back, she was carrying a huge parcel that looked familiar to Bessie.
“I can’t accept that,” Bessie said before she’d even opened it.
“You don’t even know what it is,” Doona argued.
“It’s the painting that Grant Robertson tried to give me, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Doona admitted. “I bought it at the auction.”
“It sold for a lot of money,” Bessie recalled.
“Not that much. I can afford it,” Doona said. “All of the money raised went to repaying the people Grant stole from, so it’s good that it sold for a lot.”
“But you want to pay off your mortgage and remodel your bathroom,” Bessie argued.
“I should have enough to do both those things once the estate is finally settled,” Doona told her. “Please, let me give you this one thing to thank you for supporting me when my marriage fell apart and again when Charles died.”
Bessie felt torn. She hated that her friend had spent so much money on her, but she loved the painting very much. While she was thinking, Doona spoke.
“At least unwrap it,” she suggested.
Bessie pulled off the paper and sighed deeply. It was even more beautiful than she remembered. Somehow it
seemed to capture the beach at her very favourite time of day. The sun was just rising and the beach was deserted except for a few seagulls that were flying in lazy circles over the gentle waves.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said softly.
“Where will you hang it?” Doona asked.
“Maybe in my bedroom,” Bessie said. “As the view out the window here is much the same as the painting.”
“Of course the view in here isn’t always quite as nice as the painting,” Doona said. She pointed out the window and Bessie laughed.
The painting showed the beach on a spring or summer morning with clear skies. At the moment, the skies were grey and a heavy rain was falling on a windswept and sodden beach. Doona was right; the beach in the painting looked much nicer than the one outside Bessie’s window.
“Maybe it should go down here, then,” Bessie said. “I’ll decide after I take the Christmas decorations down.”
“Let me know if you want any help with hanging it,” Doona said. “It’s rather heavy.”
“I suppose I must keep it, then,” Bessie said. “As it already feels like it belongs here.”
“Thank you,” Doona said happily.
“No, thank you.”
Lunch was delicious, and Doona insisted on doing all of the washing-up. Bessie refilled the cookie tray in anticipation of still more visitors in the afternoon, and she wasn’t disappointed. Mary and George Quayle arrived on foot from Thie yn Traie as Bessie was letting Doona out.
“Bessie, Happy Christmas,” Mary said, hugging Bessie tightly once the pair had removed their wet things. “I can’t believe that woman was remodeling our new house,” she added, shaking her head.
“I hope that doesn’t put you off buying it,” Bessie replied.
“Oh no, we’ve actually just arranged to sign the papers next week,” Mary told her. “We had ever so much trouble getting everyone to agree to do it during the week between Christmas and New Year, but it’s all arranged now. And to help clear out all the ghosts, we’re having that New Year’s Eve party I mentioned. You must come.”
Bessie smiled. She didn’t really like New Year’s Eve parties, but of course she would go anyway, for Mary’s sake.
They exchanged presents, but the Quayles couldn’t stay long, as they still had their children and grandchildren, who were scattered around the island, to visit.
“Elizabeth is moving into Thie yn Traie over the next few days,” Mary told Bessie. “So don’t be surprised if you see lights on at all hours. She decided she doesn’t want to wait for her rooms to be finished, so she’ll be staying in the east wing while we finish the west wing for her.”
The next few hours flew past as Bessie welcomed more of her friends for short visits. When Hugh and Grace arrived, she tried to look at Grace’s left hand without being obvious about it. Apparently she wasn’t being as subtle as she’d hoped, because after a few minutes, Hugh caught her eye and shook his head. Questions rushed to Bessie’s lips, but she swallowed them all and served tea and cookies to the pair. She was relieved when Grace excused herself for a short while.
“She said no?” Bessie asked, shocked.
“No, I haven’t asked yet,” Hugh told her. “I was going to ask this morning, before breakfast, but then I got nervous and couldn’t talk properly. Now I can’t seem to find the right time to ask.”
“Take her for a walk on the beach and do it,” Bessie suggested.
Hugh looked out the window and shook his head. “I want it to be romantic, not windy and rainy.”
Bessie would have said a great deal more, but Grace returned then and a short time later the pair left. By eight o’clock Bessie was tired of talking and almost out of Christmas cookies. There were still a few friends who hadn’t visited, but she assumed they’d stop by on Boxing Day. If she did run out of cookies, she’d serve them mince pies.
She switched on the radio and found a station playing Christmas music, then she sat down with her pile of presents and began to unwrap them, taking careful note of exactly what she’d received so that she could write thank-you notes the next day.
An hour later, she was feeling overwhelmed by the generosity of her friends. She wouldn’t need to shop for bath products or chocolate for some time to come. Even better, she’d received a small fortune in book tokens. She could hardly wait to start spending those. The last present she unwrapped was the pile of books she’d purchased for herself and impulsively wrapped and put under the tree. She looked through them and chose one to take up to bed with her. She still had the box of books from the auction to go through, but she decided to save that for another day. Today had been wonderful enough.
After walking through the cottage, turning off lights and checking the doors, she stopped in the sitting room and smiled at the tree. She was so glad she’d decided to decorate it this year. It had been a strange and often unhappy year, but today couldn’t have been any better. She unplugged the tree and then walked to the stairs. Glancing back into the room, she frowned. What was the strangely shaped object on top of the bookshelf?
Switching on the nearest lamp, Bessie crossed the room and looked in surprise at her old Christmas stocking. Someone, and she wasn’t sure she could guess who, had filled the small sack with tiny presents. Bessie poured them out and opened a bottle of bubble liquid, a bouncy ball, miscellaneous chocolates and a toy car. She smiled to herself as she headed up the stairs. She’d been wrong only a moment earlier. Christmas had managed to get just a little bit better.
Glossary of Terms
Manx Language to English
cloan
children
fastyr mie
good afternoon
kys t’ou
How are you?
moghry mie
good morning
ta mee braew
I’m fine.
House Names – Manx to English
Thie yn Traie
Beach House
Treoghe Bwaaue
Widow’s Cottage (Bessie’s home)
English/Manx to American Terms
advocate
Manx title for a lawyer (solicitor)
bin
garbage can
biscuits
cookies
boot
trunk (of a car)
car park
parking lot
crisps
potato chips
cuddly toy
stuffed animal
cuppa
cup of tea (informal)
CV
resume
duvet
a comforter with a removable cover, usually filled with feathers and down
fairy cakes
cupcakes
fairy lights
Christmas lights (string lights)
fizzy drink
soda (pop)
flat
apartment
fortnight
two weeks
holiday
vacation
jelly
gelatin dessert (most commonly Jell-O in the US)
jumper
sweater
lie in
sleep late
loo
restroom
midday
noon
notes
paper money (bills)
pram
stroller
pudding
dessert
queue
line
rubbish
garbage
shopping trolley
shopping cart
skeet
gossip
supply teacher
substitute teacher
sweets
candy
telly
television
till
check-out (in a grocery store, for example)
trainers
sneakers
Other notes:
Book tokens are gift certificates that can be used in most bookstores th
roughout the United Kingdom, regardless of where they were purchased.
Bessie calls someone a “pot,” which is a reference to the expression “the pot calling the kettle black.” She is suggesting that the person who is complaining is sometimes guilty of the same behaviour as the person he or she is complaining about.
Boxing Day is traditionally December 26th (although it can be moved to the 27th if the 26th is a Sunday, as it is a public holiday). In the past it was the day when tradesmen were given their “Christmas boxes.”
In the UK, people sometimes say “snap” to mean that two things are the same (from the card game where you say “snap” when someone lays down the same card as the previous one).
Noble’s is Noble’s Hospital, the main hospital on the Isle of Man. It is located in Douglas, the country’s capital city.
Reception is the first year of full-time education in UK (and Isle of Man) schools. It is similar to US Kindergarten, but students begin in the school year when they will turn five, which is generally about a year earlier than their US counterparts.
In the UK, people measure their weight in terms of stones and pounds, rather than just pounds. A stone is equal to fourteen pounds, so if someone weighs ten stone they weigh 140 pounds.
Ronaldsway is the area of the island where the airport is located. Although officially called the “Isle of Man Airport,” nearly everyone on the island calls the airport “Ronaldsway” when talking about it.
CID is the Criminal Investigation Department of the Isle of Man Constabulary (Police Force).
Aunt Bessie Joins Page 24
