Aunt Bessie Believes

by Diana Xarissa

  “After all your talk about ex-husbands, I’m sure you’ve put him off the idea of ever getting married.” Bessie teased.

  “I didn’t say anything about him getting married,” Doona countered. “I just want him to find a nice girl. There are a few around, but none of them seem interested in a nice neighbourhood constable.”

  “Matchmaking has never been my strong suit,” Bessie told her truthfully. Actually, she’d never really tried it, preferring to let people make their own choices and their own mistakes when it came to love. Her own love affairs had been complicated and both had ended badly. She didn’t want to be responsible for any such thing in anyone else’s life.

  “It’s never been mine, either,” Doona admitted. “But maybe this time I’ll get lucky, or rather Hugh will.”

  With that, Doona had gone as well and Bessie locked up the cottage door. Tomorrow she needed to finish her research so that she could actually start writing the paper she was going to present. She needed to do some grocery shopping as well and, there was no getting around it, at some point she needed to practice her Manx.

  She really should have practised with Doona over dinner, but she told herself that she didn’t want Hugh to feel left out. It was as good an excuse as she could come up with to cover up for the fact that she simply didn’t want to practice. Manx was difficult and she was acting like a stroppy schoolgirl, refusing to do her homework because it was too hard. She’d give herself a stern talking-to the next day, she decided. And she would practice her Manx.

  Chapter Four

  Bessie spent most of Wednesday working on her paper, her resolve from the previous day all but forgotten. On Thursday afternoon, she was delighted when Doona rang.

  “I was thinking that we should have dinner tonight and practice our Manx,” Doona told her.

  “I was thinking that very thing,” Bessie said untruthfully. She hadn’t really been thinking about her language class at all, and now she felt guilty about it.

  “I’ve ever so much to catch you up on,” Doona said.

  “Like what?” Bessie demanded.

  “We can talk tonight,” Doona laughed. “I’ll bring pizza and chocolate fairy cakes from the new bakery in town.”

  Bessie grinned at the phone. “Something exciting must have happened if you’re bringing chocolate.” Doona just laughed.

  Bessie hadn’t done much housework over the last few days, devoting herself to her research instead. Now she worked her way around her cottage with a duster and the vacuum cleaner. Her least favourite job was cleaning bathrooms, but she couldn’t entertain a guest if they weren’t hygienic, so she took the time to clean them as well.

  By the time Doona arrived, the cottage was spotless and Bessie felt like she’d earned pizza and, more importantly, chocolate. It was raining lightly by that time, so Bessie was watching for her friend. She had the door to the cottage open before Doona was out of her car. Doona rushed into the house, accompanied by the smells of spicy pizza sauce and gooey melted cheese.

  “Oh, yum,” Bessie said as she took the hot box from Doona and set it on the counter.

  She had already pulled out plates, so the pair quickly piled slices of pizza onto them and sat down. Doona grabbed them each a can of fizzy drink from the fridge. Aside from an occasional murmur of enjoyment, they ate silently for several minutes.

  After her fourth slice, Doona sat back and grinned. “That was delicious.”

  “And we still have pudding,” Bessie smiled.

  She cleared away the pizza plates, discarding the now empty box.

  Doona opened the bakery box of fairy cakes and placed one in the centre of a clean plate for Bessie. Then she took one for herself, carefully putting it on a plate of its own. Bessie had rules for how food should be served in her home and anyone who was hoping to be invited back made sure to follow them, regardless of what they did in their own homes.

  “I’m sure chocolate has some sort of magical properties,” Bessie told Doona after her first bite of cake. “Eating it makes me feel better about life.”

  Doona laughed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “But you had things you wanted to talk about,” Bessie reminded her friend. “What’s up?”

  “Fastyr mie,” Doona answered.

  “Oh, yes, er, fastyr mie,” Besse replied.

  “Kys t’ou?”

  “Ta mee braew, kys t’ou?”

  “Oh, I’m ta mee braew as well,” Doona laughed. “And now we can cross practising our Manx off the list of things to do tonight.”

  Bessie grinned. “I wish I could get more excited about practising,” she said. “I enjoy the class and I love learning, but somehow practising seems like hard work.”

  “Well, anyway, we’ve done it now,” Doona grinned. “Let’s talk about more interesting things. You’ll never guess who I met yesterday.”

  Bessie laughed and then looked thoughtful. “So I must guess someone highly unlikely,” she said. “But it must be someone that I know or at least know of, or else you couldn’t expect me to guess.”

  Doona shook her head. “I should know better than to tease you,” she sighed.

  Bessie grinned. “I guess that means I’m on the right track,” she mused. “Considering recent events and your job at the police station, I’m going to guess that it was someone with a connection to Moirrey.”

  Doona sighed deeply. “You read too many mysteries; you’re half detective yourself.”

  Bessie laughed. “I haven’t guessed yet,” she said, “but I will. I’m going to guess that you met Andrew Teare yesterday.”

  Doona’s jaw dropped. “How, but, how could you possibly have guessed that?”

  Bessie laughed again. “I wish I could say that I worked it out, but his return after twenty-five years less than twenty-four hours after his sister died is the most exciting skeet anyone’s heard in weeks. I must have had ten phone calls about him today.”

  Now Doona laughed. “And here I was, all impressed with your powers of deduction.”

  “The way I heard it, he just walked into the Laxey station and introduced himself,” Bessie told Doona. “Is that really what happened?”

  Doona shrugged. “Pretty much. Did your sources tell you anything else?”

  “Not really,” Bessie said. “I think everyone was just surprised at the timing. Maggie Clague said he didn’t look at all like she remembered, but she was two when he left for his gap year, so how she’s supposed to remember him, I don’t know. Anyway, I’m sure you can tell me more than anyone else. What did he have to say?”

  “Well,” Doona grinned, “he walked in and came up to me and said ‘hello gorgeous.’”

  “That sounds like a good start,” Bessie grinned at the obvious pleasure on Doona’s face. Clearly she had relished the compliment.

  “Oh Bessie,” Doona exclaimed. “He certainly doesn’t look anything like his sister. He’s tall, like around six foot or so, with dreamy dark hair and these soft brown eyes that look like pools of melted chocolate. He has this really sexy accent, sort of half American, half Australian and half British.”

  “That’s too many halves,” Bessie pointed out.

  “Oh, you know what I mean,” Doona laughed. “Anyway, he’s really gorgeous and good-natured, and he was very patient with Inspector Rockwell when the inspector demanded all sorts of identification and what have you. He even said: ‘you can never be too careful, especially where there’s money involved.’”

  “I reckon he’s right about that,” Bessie said. “The Teare estate must be worth a fortune, and with the number of years he’s been away, I doubt anyone on the island could be sure to recognise him.”

  “Not even you?” Doona asked. “Surely you’ll recognise him; you know everyone who has ever lived in Laxey.”

  Bessie shook her head. “I doubt I could identify him,” she replied. “The family kept to themselves for the most part. Andrew had private tutors; he didn’t go to the local school, and when he wasn’t st
udying he used to spend a lot of time with Robert Hall. Ewan was very keen that his son learn about farming and estate management. In those days they owned a lot of farmland. Of course that’s all been sold off now.”

  “He mentioned that,” Doona told her. “He said he was shocked to discover how much of the family’s land had been sold over the years. He didn’t keep in touch after he left, really. He didn’t even know for sure that his father had died.”

  “Surely he was mentioned in his father’s will?” Bessie asked. “Matthew Barnes should have looked for him after his father’s death.”

  “I don’t know,” Doona shrugged. “Andrew’s been travelling all these years. He never did come back and take up a university place. He’s lived in America, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.”

  “So why come back now?” Bessie asked.

  “He said that once he hit forty, a few years ago, he started really thinking about his past. He started to wonder what ever happened to his family and to his little sister.”

  “What’s he done for money all these years?” Bessie asked, suspicious of the man’s motives.

  Doona shrugged. “He said his father gave him a generous amount to spend during his gap year and he was careful with it. It ran out after a few years in Australia and he started finding odd jobs from then on to pay his way. He said he did a lot of bartending, including a few years on a cruise ship. Really, he’s just travelled around and enjoyed himself and not given home a lot of thought.”

  “Or that’s how he tells it,” Bessie said sharply.

  Doona frowned. “You don’t believe him?”

  “I don’t know,” Bessie admitted. “I’d have to talk to him myself, rather than get it all through hearsay. I just think the timing is awfully strange. I suppose these sorts of coincidences do happen in real life sometimes, but it just seems odd to me that he would show up right after his sister died.”

  “I suppose it’s a good thing she wasn’t murdered,” Doona said. “I guess he would be the chief suspect. That is, assuming he’s her heir. I guess he doesn’t have to be.”

  “Whether he is or not, he’s in line for a goodly fortune, I would think,” Bessie told her. “Moirrey didn’t inherit anything outright. She just got a life interest in the estate; at least that’s what Doncan told me. The entire estate now passes to Andrew.”

  “Wow,” Doona said. “He’s going to be a very rich man.”

  “Indeed,” Bessie agreed. “The next question we must ask, though, is what happens to Anne Caine and her cottage?”

  “I actually mentioned her to Andrew,” Doona told Bessie.

  “How long was he at the station?” Bessie asked. “It seems like you two talked an awful lot.”

  Doona blushed. “He wasn’t at the station long,” she muttered.

  “So what aren’t you telling me?” Bessie demanded.

  “We had dinner together last night,” Doona confessed. “After he talked to Inspector Rockwell for a bit, he stopped back at the information desk and asked me to have dinner with him. I couldn’t see any reason to refuse.”

  Bessie smiled at her. “I thought you were done with men after your last divorce,” she reminded her.

  Doona blushed again. “Yeah, well, the thing is, I just felt bad for Andrew. In spite of being born and raised here, he’s really a stranger. I figured having dinner with him would be the nice thing to do.”

  “And the gorgeous looks and sexy accent had nothing to do with it,” Bessie teased.

  Doona laughed as she blushed even more brightly. “Yeah, oaky, he is gorgeous and his accent makes me giddy, but still, he’s a nice guy as well.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Bessie answered. “And if he was able to satisfy Inspector Rockwell as to his identity, he may well be a very rich man as well.”

  “I’m not sure about the identity issue,” Doona told Bessie. “I guess it’s more complicated than showing your passport and collecting your fortune.”

  “And so it should be,” Bessie answered.

  Doona shrugged. “We didn’t really talk about that, but I did overhear Hugh and the inspector talking about DNA testing. Andrew wasn’t really pleased when I told him that, but he understood. The police have to be sure that he really is who he claims to be.”

  “Especially since there probably isn’t anyone on the island who can definitely identify him,” Bessie suggested.

  “I was hoping that he was one of your guests over the years and that you’d be able to vouch for him,” Doona told her.

  “Sorry, he never stayed in my spare room. I don’t think his parents would have let him ‘run away’ and besides, he was at boarding school from the age of ten or eleven. Most of my ‘runaways’ are older than that. Moirrey was in her teens when she turned up here.”

  “Moirrey was one of your young guests?” Doona said in a surprised voice.

  “Just the once,” Bessie answered darkly. “She was demanding and difficult and rude and obnoxious and I told her the next morning that she was no longer welcome at my home.”

  “I’ll bet that went over well,” Doona grinned.

  Bessie shrugged. “I suppose Moirrey wasn’t pleased, but I guess she knew better than to try anything stupid. She just stayed out of my way after that, which wasn’t difficult. Her parents always wanted to keep her at home anyway. She didn’t go to the local school either. She was deemed too delicate to attend regular classes.”

  “Andrew said that, in a way, he wasn’t surprised to hear that she had died,” Doona said. “He remembered constantly being told to be careful of her every time he was home. I suppose it isn’t surprising that he didn’t want to come back in a hurry.”

  “You said you mentioned Anne and her problems to Andrew,” Bessie recalled. “What did he have to say about that?”

  “He said he couldn’t imagine throwing Anne out of her cottage for any reason,” Doona replied. “He could barely remember her. She’s a few years younger of course, but he had very fond memories of her father. He said he was going to have a long chat with Matthew Barnes about the matter as soon as he could.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Bessie sighed. “I’m sure Anne will be thrilled to have everything worked out.”

  “Anyway, even if you can’t help identify him, I want you to meet him,” Doona told Bessie. “I was hoping you could have dinner with us tomorrow night.”

  Bessie laughed. “You have a date with the man and you want to bring me along?” she asked.

  “It isn’t really a date,” Doona protested. “The poor man doesn’t really know anyone on the island yet, so I said I’d have dinner with him. I suggested that I could bring you along, because you knew his parents and his sister. He’s eager to talk to people who might remember the family.”

  “As I said, I don’t really remember him. I have a vague recollection of a small boy with brown hair accompanying his parents at some church service or something, but beyond that, I doubt I ever spoke to him.”

  “Still, come and have dinner with us, won’t you?”

  “If you’re absolutely certain that you really want me along.”

  “I’m certain,” Doona told her. “I think it will be good for Andrew to talk about his family with someone who knew them. He’s dealing with a lot of issues being back here after all these years.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Bessie said thoughtfully.

  Chapter Five

  Friday was usually Bessie’s grocery shopping day, and this week was no different. She had a standing appointment with her favourite taxi service, and her preferred driver was nearly always the one who collected her after her morning walk. Dave was a safe and steady driver who always treated Bessie with respect. He took her into Ramsey and dropped her off at the large bookstore.

  “Now don’t be staying in there too long,” he told her with a grin. “You have to get some groceries as well.”

  Bessie laughed. “I’ll try to be good,” she promised as she headed towards the store. “I’ll see you outsi
de ShopFast in three hours.”

  Dave didn’t pull away until she was safely inside the bookstore. Bessie waved to him and then took a deep breath. There was something about the smell of thousands of books all crammed together in one space that just made her feel good.

  She browsed through the shelves, not really looking for anything special, but hoping to stumble across something wonderful.

  “Oh, Bessie, we’ve just had a new ‘cat’ book come in,” one of the clerks told her as she made her way around the shop. “I haven’t even had time to put it out yet.”

  Bessie smiled. She knew exactly which mystery series the clerk was talking about and it was just the sort of book she was in the mood for today. “I’ll take it,” she told the girl.

  After the bookstore, she wandered through a few charity shops on her way to the grocery store. She managed to add a few second-hand paperbacks to her book collection before she arrived at ShopFast.

  The twenty-minute shopping trip took about an hour, as everyone she encountered wanted to hear all of the latest news. They were all talking about Andrew Teare, although no one appeared to have actually seen the man in question as yet.

  “I hear he’s really fit and tan, like he’s been living somewhere sunny,” one woman told Bessie.

  “I hear he’s quite pale and not looking very well,” another said. “I reckon he’s as sickly as his sister was.”

  By the time Bessie left the store, she was tired of talking about Andrew Teare. She wasn’t about to share any of the information that Doona had given her the previous evening, which meant she had nothing to add to the speculation and rumours.

  Dave was waiting for her as arranged and Bessie was happy to get home with her shopping. Once the shopping was put away, she played through her answering machine messages, deleting the ones from people she had just seen in Ramsey. That left only a few calls to return and she did that quickly before making herself a light lunch. Doona had suggested her favourite restaurant for dinner that evening, and she didn’t want to spoil her appetite.