The Westport Mysteries Boxed Set

by Beth Prentice

  All was going well with our tour until we stopped for a look around one of the rooms. When Mum turned to ask Grandma what she thought of it, Grandma had disappeared.

  “She was just here,” I said, turning in circles, in the hope that Grandma was right behind me.

  “Where could she have gone?” asked Mum, her voice much higher than her normal register.

  “I’ll have a look,” said Molly. I looked at Mum, then at Molly’s disappearing back and tried to decide what to do.

  “It’s your fault!” said Mum, looking at me.

  “What? How is it my fault?” I asked.

  “It was your job to look after her.”

  “Since when?” Honestly, I never got that memo.

  “It’ll be okay. She couldn’t have gone too far,” said Jessica but I could see the look in her eye. She knew Grandma was going to be a handful.

  I quickly decided that following Molly was the way to go, and hurried down the hall after her. We passed room after room of men and women, some having a sleep whilst others watched television. We met a few randy old men in the common room. Molly decided that maybe her shoes screamed hooker more than she would like after one man tried to put some money in the waistband of her jeans.

  We found a lovely room filled with ladies knitting and crocheting, but we didn’t find Grandma. Jessica did ask if Grandma liked bingo, so maybe we should visit the bingo room. It was then that I remembered what Grandma’s favorite pastime was.

  “Do you have any nice looking men that live here?” I asked.

  Jessica looked at me with concern.

  “Well…we…um…” She stopped and looked at me bewildered. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Oh, Grandma likes the men,” I smiled, thinking back to Molly’s advice she gave Grandma about finding a new man. “It’s not the first time she’s gone missing,” I explained. “If there is one in particular who is attractive, that’s probably where we’ll find her.” I shrugged. It was worth a try, wasn’t it?

  Jessica lead us to a room not far from where we had stopped, and I noticed on the door was a nameplate that read James Browning. She knocked and opened the door.

  Sure enough there was Grandma, showing Mr. Browning the scars from her knee replacement surgery.

  We all let out the breath we were holding. Mum was going to have a heart attack.

  Walking back to the nurse’s station, Grandma pushing her walker, Molly phoned Mum to tell her we’d found Grandma and to stop worrying.

  “Mum’s on the oxygen,” explained Molly, pushing her phone back into her bag. “And she thinks Grandma’s not ready for a nursing home yet.”

  * * * *

  Mum and Molly had moved ahead of me, helping Grandma back into the car whilst I stayed and signed us all out of the visitor’s book. As I was signing my name, a man approached the nurse’s station and walked behind the counter. He was about sixty, had a nice shiny bald patch on top of his head and wore navy trousers. His light blue shirt had ‘Allora Lodge Nursing Facility’ and ‘Colin’ embroidered on his left breast pocket.

  “Hey, Colin,” said the nurse looking up from her keyboard. “I was chatting to Mrs. Johnson in room 22a. Apparently it’s three years ago today her husband passed away and she wants to visit his grave to place some flowers. Do you have time to take her this afternoon?”

  Colin looked at his watch. “I can take her about three o’clock if that suits. It would give her time for her visit and still get back here for dinner.”

  “Perfect. I’ll let her know,” replied the nurse, shuffling through a folder on her desk. “This is the number of the grave you need to take her to.” She scribbled something on a sticky note and handed it to Colin.

  “Oh geez. These things never make sense to me,” said Colin, looking confused.

  “What doesn’t make sense?”

  “These numbers. How am I supposed to find what I’m looking for? There’s thousands of graves out there.”

  “Well, this is the location of the site. The CE is Church of England, the 012 is the twelfth row and the 04 is the number of graves in from the end of the row.” I heard Colin sigh. “Just don’t get confused between the old section and the new. All the old graves are coded with OLD after the religion so would be CEOLD. You’re just looking for CE. But they do have sign posts up to help visitors.”

  “Okay. That makes it a bit easier. I suppose I can always ask for help when I get there.”

  “That’s the spirit!” She smiled.

  Listening to this conversation, a memory stirred. There was something familiar about the location code of the grave the nurse had just given Colin. It puzzled me. CE 012 04. CE? Church of England. The memory of the dream I’d had involving the mysterious christmas bauble and the message I had written, stirred.

  I put the pen down and raced to Mum’s car, hoping that my dream-induced scrawl was still scrunched up in the bottom of my waste paper bin.

  Chapter Six

  I will admit, I probably pulled into my driveway slightly faster than necessary. I slid on the gravel and skidded to a halt, dust flying up around me. Getting out, I slammed the car door closed and saw Hazel, my neighbor, glare at me over the fence. Oops. Let’s hope the wind blows the dust away from her washing, otherwise I guarantee I will be the main topic of conversation at the next Residents’ Association meeting. I’d already given them months of gossip after my run in with my stalker earlier this year. With all the burning my ears had been doing, they really needed a break.

  Riley’s truck was absent, so I knew he must be at the hardware store or somewhere equally as thrilling, so I unlocked my front door and made my way straight to the lounge room. Thankfully, I’d been lazy and had not emptied my bin, so I filtered my way through chocolate wrappers (mmm, maybe I should reconsider my diet) and found the paper I was looking for.

  Walking to the kitchen, I unfolded it and spread it flat on the table. There in my big loopy writing was CCOLD11200LL. Remembering the conversation between the nurse and Colin, I thought maybe I had read my scrawl wrong. Maybe instead of CCOLD112 it was CEOLD112, but what could 00LL be? I moved to the fridge and poured a glass of water, thinking about the dream. Maybe Google could help. Opening my laptop I looked up the Westport Cemetery. It didn’t take me long before I found a map of the sites and a truckload of statistics. Apparently the cemetery is one hundred and forty five years old, has forty four thousand three hundred and twenty two new residents since it opened, and thirty five thousand visitors a year. Wow. I looked carefully at the map but it didn’t give me any insight, so I looked at my writing again. I counted the rows of graves in the CEOLD section on the map. There were twenty. I counted the plots. Forty. I looked back at my writing and realized that maybe the 00LL was actually 0011.

  I felt the butterflies in my stomach wake up with excitement, and as they stirred, I moved back to the lounge room. At that moment the sun broke free from the clouds and streamed through my bay window, hitting the glass bauble and sending the colored rays around the room. I held my breath as the air pressure seemed to change around me and I waited for the lady from my dream to reappear.

  Watching the colored lights dancing, I tried to make out the patterns I had seen in my dream, but nothing happened.

  No woman and no pattern appeared.

  As the sun once again hid behind the cloud, coolness swept through the room and I knew she had just been a dream.

  * * * *

  Riley walked in the door about an hour later. I was wrong about the hardware store, he’d been at his Grandma’s. I always noticed that after Riley had spent some time with Grandma Mabel, he liked to visit his own gran. Maybe he needed a reminder of what a normal grandmother acts like.

  Ruby Thomas is as beautiful as her grandson. She is almost as short as me, has steel grey hair and wears her pearl necklace with everything. She also has Riley’s eyes. The only problem I had with Riley visiting her was that he hadn’t taken me with him.

  “How is Ruby?” I asked.


  “She’s good. She asked me to take her to Grandpop’s grave tomorrow though. Christmas is not far away and she misses him more at this time of year than at any other.”

  “You would think that she would miss him the most around the time of their wedding anniversary.”

  “Yeah, but Christmas was always Grandpop’s favorite. You’re a lot like him in that way.” Riley smiled.

  “Would you mind if I tagged along tomorrow?” I asked, thinking I would like to visit grave number CEOLD 012 0011.

  “Sure. Gran won’t mind. She loves you.”

  “You love me too.” I smiled.

  “Yes, I do,” he whispered, pulling me in close. “Now are you going to get ready?”

  “Ready for what?” I asked, perplexed.

  “For dinner with my brother Jarrod and his wife Shelly. I told you about it last week, remember?”

  Obviously I didn’t remember.

  “Oh yes, of course. I’ll just quickly get changed. I won’t be long,” I trilled, keeping my eyes away from his. One look at me and he would know I was lying.

  Shit, shit and double shit. I’d been hoping for a quiet night at home, snuggled up on Riley’s couch, reading a good book. Oh well, worse things could happen I guess.

  * * * *

  As I mentioned earlier, Riley and I have been together for about six months, but even after all that time, I still pinch myself when I wake up and the first thing I see is his gorgeous face. And right after I pinch myself, I sneak out of bed and jump in the shower. Even I have trouble looking at my hair first thing in the morning, so I would have to have a wedding ring on my finger long before I ever showed it to Riley.

  We’d been spending the nights at Riley’s house since the smell of fresh paint in my bedroom was too harsh for a good night’s sleep. Riley lives in a converted church and it’s absolutely one of my favorite places in the world. Not only is it full of charm and good decorating, but it’s filled with Riley. Plus, he has an exceptional massaging spa head on his shower. I was just standing under it rinsing the conditioner out of my hair when he walked in to use the toilet. We’d only been together for a few weeks when he’d decided he was comfortable enough to pee in front of me.

  “What time are we going to the cemetery?” I asked.

  “I told Gran we’d pick her up about eight. I think she wants to stop for some flowers and a coffee before heading over there,” he replied, pushing the flush button. “Do you need a hand?” he asked, walking towards me and opening the door.

  “I don’t know. Do we have time?”

  “We have all the time in the world. If we’re late, I’ll tell Gran I was making wild passionate love to you and she’ll understand.”

  I laughed. “No. That’s what you would tell Grandma Mabel. You’re more likely to tell Ruby you got caught in traffic.”

  “You know me so well,” he said, pulling off his boxers and stepping under the water.

  * * * *

  Luckily, after we picked Ruby up, we stopped by the river and had a cup of coffee. Once Riley had finished with me in the shower, I’d hardly had any time to get dressed, let alone stop for breakfast. Thinking back though, it was well worth the grumbling stomach. I ordered a chocolate muffin with my cappuccino. I didn’t like cemeteries at the best of time, but with Ruby and Riley, I had a feeling this morning was going to be emotional. So that meant I needed chocolate.

  The sadness enveloped me the second I opened the car door and stepped outside. Riley walked around to his Gran and gently took her arm to lead the way to George Thomas’ final resting place. Stepping back, I allowed them some time alone.

  Looking around at all the headstones placed in perfect rows on the grass and looked at all flowers, I thought of the lives and stories those people had experienced. I probably should clarify I don’t like cemeteries because of the sadness that lies within them. Take that away and I find them extremely interesting. I looked at Riley with his arm around Ruby and thought what a lucky man George had been. Yes, I had never met him, but I’d met his family and that was enough to tell me what a wonderful life he would have lived.

  Silently, I looked around the stones nearby and started to read the inscriptions, making my way away from Riley and towards the older section of the cemetery. It took me a while, but eventually I found the grave I was looking for.

  The headstone was larger than the one on Riley’s Grandpop’s grave and it looked like it had been well kept until a few years ago. It read:

  Eliza Watson

  16th June 1935 – 25th December 1955

  Rest in Peace My Angel

  She was only twenty years old. I felt the lump form in my throat as I reread the date of her death. It was Christmas day.

  Christmas day to me was a day filled with love, laughter and family. It was a day where the world felt peaceful. I could not imagine a loved one dying on that day.

  I knelt down, started to pull away the weeds that now grew around it, and saw a hole about the size of my fist in the middle of the stone. Reaching out, I noticed the rusty hook embedded into the stone. Whatever had been hanging there was now missing.

  A sadness washed over me and as I felt the tears well up and spill over my lashes, and felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning to see who it belonged to, I came face to face with Riley.

  I stood up, buried my face in his chest and allowed the sobbing to start because at that moment, I knew who the Christmas ornament belonged to.

  * * * *

  I wanted to return the glass ornament the very next day, but I had a lot of work that needed to be caught up on, so instead I locked myself in my office and did what had to be done. But on Christmas Eve I decided it had waited long enough and I would return the glass bauble to Eliza that day. Not only could I not stand another night like the previous one, where I had tossed and turned with dream-filled sleep, but I wanted Eliza to have the bauble back for Christmas morning. I didn’t know how long it had been missing, but it was time for it to go home. Riley had wanted to come with me as he knew how emotional I get at cemeteries, but I assured him this was a happy occasion and that I’d be okay alone. So I carefully wrapped the glass ball and placed it in my handbag.

  A storm had been brewing for the last few days but as yet, it had not eventuated. That only left the weather humid and overcast. I looked at the sky as I locked my car, and really hoped it would hold off until I’d finished my mission.

  I found Eliza’s grave easily this time, remembering the way as if I’d done it regularly. I sat on the grass again and did a little more weed pulling. Only when the grave was tidy once more, did I open my bag and retrieve the bauble. I heard the thunder rumble in the distance as I unwrapped it, giving it a polish on my shirt before hanging it in its original home. As I did so, the sun moved through a gap in the clouds, sending prisms of light through the orb and causing color to dance over the headstones around me. I heard the tinkering of laughter and looked up. Standing at a distance, watching the light, was the woman I had seen in my dream.

  “I knew you were special,” said a gravelly voice behind me. I spun around and found myself looking at Earl. He still wore the same uniform he’d worn the day he sold me the tree. “I’ve been waiting a long time to find the person who would be able to bring that home.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “She was very special too,” he said, nodding towards the grave.

  “Why didn’t you bring the ornament here yourself?” I asked, finally managing to find my voice.

  “I didn’t find it in time,” he said. “It was made especially for Eliza, you know. We used to have a gentleman in town who did glass blowing and Christmas was always her favorite time of year. It seemed like the least I could do to give her Christmas every day.” I watched as emotion danced in his eyes.

  “Who was she?” I asked.

  “She was the love of my life. We’d known each other since we were kids, grew up living only two houses away from each other. That year for Christmas I bought her an engagem
ent ring, got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. She said yes. It was the happiest moment of my life,” he said, lost in memories. “Later that day, she was killed by a speeding car.”

  His words sent shock waves all the way to my toes. Not for the first time, I realized life could be so unfair. “I had this ornament made for her and every day I came here and tended to her grave, wishing I could hold her one more time. All the wishing and praying in the world couldn’t bring her back, but I knew that wherever she was, she would be looking down at the ornament and smiling as the pretty light danced around. Then a few years after she died, it disappeared. I couldn’t have another one made as the man in town had moved on. I didn’t know what to do,” he said sadly. “I could feel her sadness every time I came here after that.” Looking at Earl, I understood his words. I could feel it too. “But I knew you were the right person to give it to.” He smiled. “You’re special.”

  I looked to where the woman had stood, wanting to see her happiness, but she’d gone.

  “Where did you find it?” I asked, turning back to Earl, but he was gone too.

  I stood and looked around me. The only person I could see was a groundskeeper, so I walked towards him.

  “Excuse me, but did you see where the elderly gentleman went?” I asked.

  “Sorry, miss. I didn’t see anybody else here.”

  “He was standing with me, telling me the story of the woman he loved.”

  “Sorry, but you’ve been alone the whole time I’ve been here,” he replied.

  “Well, how long have you been here?” I asked.

  “About an hour.” This didn’t make any sense.

  “But I was talking to a man. He was wearing a green shirt and long pants. Walked with a limp. His name was Earl.”