“Is that what Elizabeth has done?” Bessie asked.
“Yes. They all just turned up the other day. She didn’t tell me how many were coming, so we didn’t have rooms prepared for them all. There’s nothing for them to do here and the party is still hours away, but now she heading down to Douglas to help George and leaving me with them all.”
“How many are there?” Bessie asked, concerned.
“Oh, goodness, I didn’t count,” Mary replied. “There’s Bruce, whom you’ve already met. He seems quite taken with Elizabeth, but she only has eyes for Howard, er, Howard Bridges, who’s ghastly, but I never said that.”
Bessie smiled. “I shall look forward to meeting Howard, then,” she said.
“Yes, well, he’s probably not as bad as I think, but he is clearly just having fun with Elizabeth and not all serious, and that worries me as I’m sure Elizabeth likes him quite a lot.”
“Oh, dear,” Bessie said. “And who else am I going to meet later?”
“Jeremy Lee, who is lovely, with the sort of old-fashioned manners you never see anymore. Why Elizabeth couldn’t fall for him, I’ll never know. And then there’s Nigel Hutton. He’s the last of the men in the party, and he seems to spend a great deal of his time sleeping. I’ve not actually met him.”
Bessie must have looked surprised, because Mary quickly explained.
“They’re all staying in Elizabeth’s wing of the house and I’ve had staff come up from the Douglas house to help out. The staff has been running back and forth with food and drinks for the group all day, but no one other than Bruce has wandered out of their little section of the house.”
“How nice for them to have their own wing and staff to look after them,” Bessie said.
“Yes, well, I did tell Elizabeth that she’d have to deal with it all, but she’s, well, she’s a little bit overwhelmed at the moment.” Mary sighed. “I know I need to be tougher with her, but she is my baby girl. George and I have agreed, though, that she has to get a job or go back to school in the new year.”
“I’m sure that will be good for her,” Bessie said. “Are there other women in Elizabeth’s party as well or just the men?”
“Oh, yes, a mix of both. Sarah Davies is a sweetheart. She’s very bubbly and madly in love with Bruce, who doesn’t seem to notice. Emma Taylor is quiet and rather fades into the background, but maybe that’s because my Elizabeth and Gennifer Carter-Maxwell have such large personalities. Gennifer is spelled with a ‘G’ by the way, which she seems to think is quite important.”
“I’m not sure I’m looking forward to meeting any of these people,” Bessie remarked.
Mary nodded. “They can be a bit a much,” she admitted. “But it’s good for Elizabeth to have her friends around her for the holiday. I keep hoping one of them might inspire her to do something with her life, but I have to say, this group probably isn’t going to do that. I don’t know that any of them do much more than live off of their parents.”
“I hope you’ve invited some people that I will enjoy spending time with,” Bessie couldn’t help but say.
“Of course I have,” Mary said quickly. “Most of the party will be filled with wonderful people from the island. You mustn’t worry about Elizabeth and her friends. They’ll entertain one another and the rest of us probably won’t even notice that they are here.”
Bessie bit her tongue. There was no point in telling Mary just how unlikely she considered that scenario. In her experience, young people always made certain that they were the centre of attention, and Bessie was sure that Elizabeth and her friends would try hard to make the evening’s party revolve around them.
“Anyway,” Mary continued, “Doona will be here, and I’ve invited John Rockwell and young Hugh Watterson and his lovely lady friend. I know they’re all friends of yours. I’ve also invited everyone who was involved with ‘Christmas at the Castle’, and I’m really looking forward to seeing them again, although some of them did say they couldn’t make it.”
Bessie and Mary had both served on the committee that put together the island’s first “Christmas at the Castle” fundraiser at Castle Rushen. The event had been a huge success, in spite of the two murders that had marred the festivities.
“I’m sure it will be a wonderful evening,” Bessie said, firmly silencing her misgivings.
“But why are we standing here when we could be having wine and food?” Mary demanded.
Bessie laughed and then the pair made their way out of the great room to the large kitchen that was further down the corridor.
Bessie stopped in the doorway and simply stared at the huge number of people who were busily working in the space.
“I know,” Mary said. “When you were here last, it was just me, and now we have a veritable army of people in here. But it’s only for tonight, or at least only until Elizabeth’s friends leave. I really do want to cut back on our staff numbers once we move in for good up here.”
Bessie nodded. “But you couldn’t possibly do all the food for tonight’s party yourself,” she said.
“No, and George would never agree to just having a small gathering for close friends,” Mary said. “He wanted to invite a great many more people, but I insisted that we keep the guest list to a reasonable number.”
Bessie didn’t want to ask her friend what she considered “reasonable” for a New Year’s Eve party. There was no doubt in Bessie’s mind that there would be many more people at the party than Bessie would feel comfortable with.
Mary caught someone’s attention. “Can you please open us a bottle of wine?” she asked. “And we’d love to try out any of the food that’s ready, as well.”
The woman nodded and disappeared. A few moments later she was back with a bottle and two glasses. Behind her, a man in a chef’s outfit was carrying a large tray.
“A small sample from tonight’s selection,” he told Mary, setting the tray on the table next to Bessie.
“I hope this isn’t too much trouble,” Mary replied.
“Not at all,” he assured her. “I’ve been sending similar trays over to the guests in the west wing all day.”
Mary frowned. “Yes, well, thank you for that,” she said tightly. She took the tray with the wine and smiled at Bessie. “Can you grab that one and we’ll go somewhere quiet?” she asked.
Bessie picked up the tray, which was covered in mouthwatering finger foods and followed Mary out of the room. They only went a short distance before Mary opened a door and led Bessie into a small room that was furnished with a large desk. There was a huge leather chair behind the desk and two smaller chairs in front of it.
“I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s quiet and there are chairs,” Mary said in an apologetic tone. “This was Donald Pierce’s office when he was here. They cleared out all of his things, but left the desk and chairs. I hope you don’t mind if we hide in here for a short while.”
“We have wine and lovely food,” Bessie replied. “We can stay in here until midnight, if you’d like.”
Mary laughed as she poured the wine. “I really wish we could,” she told Bessie. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been in less of a party mood than I am right now.”
“What’s wrong?” Bessie asked. “I don’t mean to pry, of course.”
Mary smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She handed Bessie a glass and then took a large drink of her own wine. “You aren’t prying,” she said eventually. “I know that you genuinely care. Things are just difficult right now. I know half of the good people on the island think that George was involved in Grant’s criminal activities. George is having a difficult time dealing with the repercussions. He really misses being the life of the party at every social event on the island. No one seems to be inviting him anywhere at the moment.”
Bessie nodded and sipped her wine. George’s former business partner, Grant Robertson, had fled the island some months earlier as the police began to look into his business practices. The subsequent investigation had brought
a great deal of criminal activity to light, but George had been cleared of any involvement. Bessie knew that many people found it impossible to believe that George hadn’t known what was going on, however, and the man had suddenly found himself cut off from his previously extensive social circle.
“That’s one of the reasons we’re having this party tonight,” Mary told Bessie. “I knew no one would invite us anywhere, so I thought we should have our own party.”
“And your real friends will all be here,” Bessie said.
“Yes, unfortunately, not many of the people George thought were his friends will be,” Mary said. She finished her glass of wine and refilled it. “George went through the list of replies this afternoon. That’s what he was so upset about when he rang. Nearly everyone he invited had some sort of excuse for not coming.”
“I’m sorry,” Bessie said.
“I’m sure they’ll all come around eventually,” Mary replied. “But George is like a small and confused child. He thought they were all his friends and now they’ve all turned their backs on him because of a little bit of trouble.”
“I wish they’d find Grant. I think everyone on the island would be happier if he were behind bars.”
“Yes, that would probably help,” Mary agreed. “Oh, I’m sorry. George is feeling glum and his mood has rubbed off on me, that’s all. I’m usually the one who dreads these sorts of parties while he’s usually all excited and eager for them to start. Now he’s hiding in Douglas, threating not to come at all and I’m stuck here, wishing we had a good reason to cancel the whole thing.”
“You can cancel,” Bessie said. “Just tell everyone you’re ill. People would understand.”
Mary shook her head. “I won’t give those people the satisfaction,” she said grimly. “We’re going to have a party whether they want to attend or not. Besides, Elizabeth’s friends are all here and they’ve been promised a proper New Year’s Eve celebration. We’re going to do this and we’re going to have a good time.”
Bessie had to smile at the words that contrasted so sharply with her friend’s miserable countenance. “I intend to have fun,” Bessie said. “It’s been a very difficult year for all of us. We deserve a party.”
Mary nodded gloomily and then the two women began to work their way through the tray of food.
“This is delicious,” Bessie said when the tray was about half-empty.
“They’ve done a really good job,” Mary agreed. “I don’t like the green ones, but otherwise, everything has been really good.”
“Oh, I haven’t tried the green ones,” Bessie said. She picked one up and sniffed it cautiously before she took a tentative bite. “It isn’t my favourite, either,” she said after she’d swallowed. “But it’s still good.” She finished the rest of it and washed it down with wine.
“I’m feeling better,” Mary said a moment later. “I’m sure the wine is helping, but spending time with you always makes me feel happier.”
“Then I’m glad I came over,” Bessie replied.
Mary opened her mouth to speak again, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Ah, there you are,” George said as he pushed the door open and walked into the room. “Bessie, you look gorgeous. I hope you’re ready to greet the new year in style?”
Bessie rose to her feet gave the man a quick hug. “It’s good to see you, George. I’m really looking forward to the party and to the new year. It will have to be better than last year, I’m sure.”
“You did have a somewhat trying time of it lately, didn’t you?” George mused. “All those dead bodies turning up everywhere.”
“Now George, I don’t think any of us want to discuss such things,” Mary chided gently. “Tonight is all about welcoming a new year with all sorts of wonderful new possibiites.”
“Yes, of course, dear,” George replied. He gave Mary a hug and then leaned over her to help himself to some of the hors d’oeuvres.
“Don’t eat the green ones,” Mary said. “You won’t like them.”
“Spinach?” George asked, wrinkling his nose. “You should have told them not to make anything with spinach.”
“Yes, well, you aren’t the only person who is going to be at the party,” Mary said. “Some people actually like spinach, you know.”
George shook his head. “I don’t believe it,” he said. “It’s horrible and slimy.”
Bessie laughed. “I don’t exactly like it,” she told the couple. “But I don’t mind it. It’s quite tasty here, with whatever it’s mixed up with, sitting on its crunchy base.”
Another knock on the door prevented the argument from escalating.
“The first guests are starting to arrive,” a man in a black suit announced formally from the doorway.
“Oh, goodness, I need to change,” Mary exclaimed. “Bessie, I’ll be back in five minutes. You can wait for me here or go on out to the great room, it’s up to you.”
“Oh, I’ll wait here,” Bessie said, settling back in her chair.
“I’ll go and start welcoming guests,” George said, his eyes shining. “I love having guests.”
Mary looked relieved as she watched the man leave the room. “I think he’s feeling better,” she said softly. She pulled the door shut behind her, leaving Bessie on her own.
Bessie settled back in her chair and helped herself to more food. “I could get used to living like this,” she said to no one. She sipped her wine. She still wasn’t really looking forward to the evening ahead, but after some delicious food and half a bottle of wine, she was far less concerned about it. And in a few hours she would be home, in the cottage she loved. No one waited on her there, but really, she wouldn’t trade her comfortable life with anyone she knew.
It was more like fifteen minutes later when Mary rushed back in. “I’m sure I’m being a terrible hostess,” she said as Bessie rose to join her. “What will the guests be thinking of me, not being there to welcome them?”
“I’m sure they won’t have even noticed,” Bessie told her. “Everyone will be busy admiring the house and looking at what everyone else is wearing. You can probably sneak in and no one will ever know that you haven’t been there the whole time.”
“Oh, I do hope so,” Mary replied.
As the pair made their way down the corridor towards the great room, Bessie could hear George’s voice echoing through the house. In the doorway to the room, Bessie surveyed the small crowd that had already gathered. There were about a dozen people standing around George, apparently listening to some anecdote he was relating. Clearly some of his business associates were still happy to spend time with him. On the opposite side of the room, Elizabeth had her own smaller crowd around her. They were laughing and talking amongst themselves, seemingly ignoring everyone else in the space.
Bessie took a glass of champagne off the tray being carried by a passing waiter and headed towards a quiet corner. She had no interest in talking to either group. Maybe she could ring in the new year on her own, in spite of the crowd.
Chapter Two
A short time later, Bessie was relieved to see Doona arrive. As her friend entered the room, Bessie smiled at Doona’s appearance. It was clear that she had taken a great deal of time and made a real effort tonight. The woman’s brown and highlighted hair was swept up into a twist and her eyes, which were green thanks to coloured contact lenses, had been made up with a heavy hand. Her little black dress showcased curves that were somewhat less generous these days.
Doona had had something of a shock recently when her second husband had reappeared in her life. His murder less than twenty-four hours later had further added to the stress in Bessie’s closest friend’s life. That she’d been named the chief beneficiary in the man’s will was an added twist, but one that Bessie was hoping would ultimately provide Doona with financial security.
In the doorway, Doona glanced around the room and then smiled when she spotted Bessie. “I should have known you’d be in a corner somewhere, watching e
veryone,” she told Bessie after greeting her with a hug.
“I barely know anyone,” Bessie replied. “And they all seem to be having a lovely time without me, anyway.”
Doona looked around at the two groups that were still segregated. “I don’t know anyone talking to George,” she said. “But I feel much too old to join the other group.”
Bessie laughed. “You feel old?” she demanded. In her early forties, Doona was about half Bessie’s age.
“The group with Elizabeth all look so very young and beautiful,” Doona said.
“They are all young and beautiful,” Bessie agreed. “And I’m sure they’re all from very wealthy families, as well.”
“So, I’ve nothing in common with them at all,” Doona laughed. “George’s friends all look like arrogant businessmen and their gorgeous pampered wives. I’ve nothing in common with them, either.”
“It’s a good thing I’m here, then,” Bessie teased. “Although we’ve nothing much in common, have we?”
Doona laughed again. “You’re right; at least on paper we don’t have much in common,” she agreed.
The pair had met at a Manx language class more than two years earlier and had bonded over the difficult language that they’d both struggled to learn. Doona’s second marriage had just fallen apart, and she found herself crying on Bessie’s sympathetic shoulder quite regularly when they should have been practicing their vocabulary. Bessie mixed compassion with tough love and helped Doona through the worst months of her life. Doona repaid the favour by being strong for Bessie over the past year as Bessie had found herself in the middle of multiple murder investigations.
“But you’re still the best friend I’ve ever had,” Doona continued. “I don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t helped me through the my marriage breakup and then Charles’s murder.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Bessie said, patting Doona’s arm.
A waiter came by with drinks and both women took glasses of champagne. Bessie put her first glass, now empty, back on his tray.
Aunt Bessie Knows Page 2
