Aunt Bessie's Holiday

by Diana Xarissa

  “Jessica, we’re leaving,” the man announced, taking her arm.

  Bessie braced herself for the argument that was sure to follow, but Jessica’s reaction surprised her.

  “Of course, darling. Let’s go,” she cooed at the man. “I can fix us both some nice lunch back at our chalet.”

  The pair left arm in arm, which had Bessie shaking her head.

  “What a strange couple,” she murmured to Doona.

  “Indeed,” Doona replied.

  They both looked down at their half-eaten lunches and then sighed at the same time.

  “Was it that bad?” a voice asked at Bessie’s elbow.

  Bessie glanced up and then smiled at Nathan, the chef. “It wasn’t quite the same as last night,” she said.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “We had a very late night, with the party and the dinner, and then a very disturbed morning. I’m simply not myself.”

  “Sit down,” Bessie invited.

  The man pulled an empty chair from the next table over and sank into it. “Thank you,” he said. “I do hope you’ll try eating here again later in your stay. I’m sure tomorrow will be a better day.”

  “What’s going on that’s causing all this trouble?” Bessie asked, hoping the man didn’t know she’d been involved in what had happened next door.

  Nathan shook his head. “That’s part of the problem,” he said in a confiding tone. “No one is telling us anything.”

  He looked around the restaurant, which was slowly emptying. Monique had finished picking up broken plates and glasses and had gone into the kitchen. Harold was talking to four people at a table on the opposite side of the room.

  Nathan leaned in towards Bessie and spoke very quietly. “The police have been here all morning. They took Lawrence away, but no one has seen any sign of Charles Adams since they arrived. I think Charles and Lawrence were involved in something criminal and they got caught red-handed.”

  “What sort of thing?” Bessie asked.

  Nathan shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe stealing money from the park? Whatever is going on, they’ve kept Charles tucked away all morning. Monique has been ringing him constantly to find out what’s happening and he hasn’t answered.”

  Bessie glanced at Doona, but her friend was busy studying her fingernails and pretending that she wasn’t interested in the conversation.

  “Harold was questioned by the police, so he has to know what’s going on, but he won’t tell us anything,” Nathan continued.

  “Did you need Charles for something this morning?” Bessie asked, her mind racing through a dozen questions she’d like to ask.

  “He always comes in first thing in the morning to go over the specials with me,” Nathan explained. “Then Monique types them up and makes copies of the sheet. When he didn’t arrive, Monique and I had to work it all out for ourselves, which took a lot longer than normal and threw off our entire day.”

  “When did you see him last?” Doona threw in.

  “He left while we were clearing away the last of the dinner plates last night,” Nathan replied. “Monique walked over to his office with him. He had some new recipes that he wanted me to take a look at, so she went with him to collect them.”

  “What sort of new recipes?” Bessie asked. “Anything we can look forward to during our stay?”

  “I don’t think so,” Nathan said, shaking his head. “There were one or two that we might be able to adapt for here, but most of them were not what I would consider appropriate.”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice again. “Charles is always looking for ways to cut costs, but I’m a chef and I won’t change out high quality menu items for cheaper ones just to increase profits.”

  Monique approached the table now. “Shall I clear these plates?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Yes, thank you,” Bessie said with a smile.

  “I’m sorry the food wasn’t more to your liking,” she said as she piled the plates onto an empty tray.

  “Your husband was just telling us about all of the upheaval this morning,” Doona said. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have even opened.”

  “Oh, but we can’t shut,” Monique said in a shocked voice. “Lakeview’s guests would be very disappointed. Ours is the premier restaurant here.”

  “It won’t be if you keep making a mess of things like today,” Harold said harshly as he approached. “I’ve had nothing but complaints about the food here today.”

  “Charles wasn’t here to do the specials,” Monique said defensively. “That meant Nathan and I had to do them all by ourselves, which took ages. We were hours behind before the doors even opened.”

  “I’m not much interested in your excuses,” Harold said. “Lunch is finished. You have two hours to get yourselves sorted out before dinner service begins. I expect a dramatic improvement.”

  He swept out of the restaurant after that, not allowing anyone time to reply. Monique looked around to make sure that all of the other guests had left and then put her tray down on an empty table. She walked to the door and turned the lock before she slid the sign on the door to read “closed.”

  “Sit down and take a break,” Nathan urged his wife. “You’ve been on your feet for hours.”

  “There’s so much to do before dinner,” she argued.

  “Not that much,” Nathan disagreed. “Unless Charles turns up to tell us otherwise, we’ll just do the same specials for dinner that we had for lunch. That saves us a lot of time. Sit with me for ten minutes and then we’ll both get back to work.”

  “But what about our guests?” Monique asked, looking pointedly at Doona and Bessie.

  “I want to talk to our guests,” Nathan told her.

  Monique pulled up another chair and then looked at her husband. “I don’t think….” she began.

  He held up a hand. “I’ll probably get fired for this,” he told Bessie and Doona, “but with everything else going on, I just have to ask. Who are you?”

  “What do you mean?” Bessie asked after glancing at Doona, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Charles was very excited about your coming,” he told them. “He’d been talking about it for weeks and yesterday he was shouting at everyone, insisting that everything had to be perfect for you. Then, last night, you barely spoke to him and today he’s nowhere to be found. We’re all confused about the two of you and why you’re here.”

  “We won a week’s holiday in a contest,” Bessie said. “That’s all.”

  Nathan shook his head. “We have contest winners here all the time. If you don’t want to tell us what’s really going on, just say so, but please don’t lie to us.”

  “We aren’t lying,” Doona said after a short pause. “We really did just win the week here as a prize. Charles and I were, well, let’s just say I knew him years ago. We had no idea he was working here now or I wouldn’t have come, free holiday or not.”

  Nathan chuckled. “So many people seem to dislike the man,” he said thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s good that I’m not the only one.”

  “Nathan, that isn’t fair,” Monique scolded. “Charles works very hard and he’s kind and he’s a good boss. Much better than Harold, anyway. You know that Lakeview has been doing really well since he’s been here.”

  “I thought it was doing fine under Harold’s management,” Nathan replied. “And I didn’t have to get approval for everything I did or deal with constant ‘budgetary adjustments.’”

  The man made air quotation marks around the last two words, finishing his remarks by making a face.

  Monique flushed. “Charles wants to increase the park’s profits. Surely there isn’t anything wrong with that? We wouldn’t have jobs if Harold ran the place out of business.”

  “How long have you two been working here?” Bessie interrupted their argument to ask.

  “About a year,” Nathan replied.

  “Did you meet here or somewhere else?” Bessie questioned.

  “We met in Paris,” M
onique replied. “I was waiting tables in my family’s restaurant.”

  “And I was studying to be a chef,” Nathan picked up the story. “I used to eat at a different restaurant every day, trying out different things and seeing how different chefs plated their meals.”

  “But then he started eating at our restaurant every day,” Monique said, giving her husband a smile.

  He took her hand and squeezed it. “It didn’t help with my chef training, but I had a good reason for wanting to eat there all the time,” he said.

  “That seems a long time ago,” Monique said, staring out of the window at the front of the restaurant. “And I’m not quite sure how we ended up here, in this place.”

  “I was offered the job of head chef at a famous London hotel,” Nathan said. “We got married and moved to London, but the job didn’t work out. They expected too much and paid too little. After that, we moved around quite a bit, seemingly always moving north, for some reason. We got here about a year ago, and for the most part, working at the holiday park suits us.”

  Monique opened her mouth and then snapped it shut again. Someone knocked on the door, startling them all.

  “It’s just Mai,” Nathan said as he walked to the door. “Harold probably sent her over to shout at us in the nicest possible way.”

  Monique giggled. “Probably,” she agreed.

  Nathan unlocked the door to let Mai in, quickly locking it behind her once she was inside.

  “Ah, Ms. Cubbon and Mrs. Moore, I was wondering where you two were,” Mai said as she spotted the trio at the small table.

  “We were just taking our time over lunch,” Bessie replied. “Mr. and Mrs. Beck were kind enough to let us stay for a bit after they’d closed.”

  “Yes, well, anything we can do to improve your holiday, just ask,” the girl replied brightly. “I just wanted to check in on Nathan, really. I heard there were some problems at lunch?”

  “Charles never showed up to do the specials,” Nathan said in a tired voice. “That put us behind schedule and sort of messed everything up.”

  “Are you okay now?” she asked, putting a hand on his arm.

  He smiled at her, but it was Monique who answered. “We’re fine,” she said, getting up from her seat. She crossed the room and slipped her arm around her husband. “We’ll have everything sorted for dinner, no problem.”

  “Good,” Mai said briskly. “I hate getting complaints about the food here. I know Nathan is better than that.”

  “We certainly are,” Monique replied haughtily.

  “But what’s on your schedule for the rest of the day?” Mai asked Bessie and Doona. “Surely you have activities booked?”

  “We were meant to be going on the woodland walk this morning, but we, er, missed it,” Doona told her. “That was all that we had on the schedule for today, but I suppose we ought to be reading our books for the book club on Saturday.”

  “Oh, you should save those for a rainy day,” Mai suggested. “It’s beautiful out today.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket.

  “Let’s see, there’s a family squirrel walk in half an hour,” she said. “I suspect that will be full of small children, though. Have you thought about trying out kayaking? Or we could see if there’s a tennis court free?”

  Doona and Bessie exchanged glances. “I don’t think so,” Bessie said after a moment. “I think maybe a nice long walk around the village is what we need after our lunch.”

  “I can ring the ranger station and see if there’s a ranger available to give you a tour,” Mai said brightly.

  “We’ve already rescheduled our woodland walk for tomorrow morning,” Doona said. “I think Bessie was suggesting just wandering around and seeing the park.”

  “Yes, well, of course you’re welcome to do that,” Mai said with doubt in her voice. “But I’m happy to arrange something special for you.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine on our own,” Doona said firmly. “I really don’t like people making a fuss over me.”

  Mai flushed. “Charles insisted, that is, he suggested that we treat you like our most important guests ever. I don’t want him to think that I’m neglecting you.”

  “You have nothing to worry about there,” Doona said dryly.

  Bessie turned an inappropriate chuckle into a cough. “Maybe we should get out of everyone’s way,” she said, rising to her feet.

  “Yes, I know you all have a lot to do before dinner,” Doona said.

  “Thanks,” Nathan replied. “Please do give us another try later in your stay. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

  “We’ll definitely be back,” Doona assured him. “But I do want to try some of the other options as well, so it may be a while.”

  Nathan unlocked the door for them and pulled it open. Before the women could leave, however, two people walked in through the door.

  “Miss Cubbon, Mrs. Moore, this is a surprise,” Margaret Hopkins said, her eyes moving back and forth between the two women.

  “We just finished lunch,” Bessie replied, feeling guilty of something as the woman’s cool eyes appraised her.

  “Joe, what’s going on?” Nathan asked the man who’d entered with the inspector.

  Joe Klein shook his head. “Ask the boss,” he said, nodding towards Margaret.

  She smiled. “I’m hardly that,” she murmured. “As for what’s going on, I’d like to ask everyone a few questions. It will be easiest if we lock up here and move across to the main building where I have an office set up.”

  “This is about Charles, isn’t it?” Nathan asked. “He’s done something and he’s been arrested.”

  “I said I needed to ask you questions,” the woman replied. “I won’t be answering any.”

  “But what about dinner?” Monique asked. “We have to start the dinner preparations now.”

  “I’m afraid my investigation takes precedence,” Margaret told her. “I’ll try to keep my questioning as brief as possible.”

  “But what about….” Monique began again, but Joe interrupted.

  “The longer we argue, the more time this will take,” he said firmly. “Let’s go over to the other building and get it over with. Then you can get back and get started on dinner.”

  No one looked happy, but when Joe held open the door, Monique and Mai walked through it. Nathan held up the keys.

  “I’ll just lock up after everyone’s out,” he said.

  Bessie and Doona followed the others, with Joe and Margaret at the rear. Nathan was last out and once he’d locked the door, he was quick to follow Joe and his wife. Bessie and Doona started to walk away, but didn’t get far.

  “Mrs. Moore, Miss Cubbon? Can I have a quick word with you, please?” Margaret Hopkins called.

  Bessie and Doona stopped and turned back towards her. The policewoman waited until Joe had escorted the other three into the large building before she spoke.

  “Thank you for not talking about what happened this morning,” she said quietly. “I want to be able to question people about their interactions with Charles before they know he’s dead, but it’s very hard work keeping something like that quiet at a place like this.”

  “I’m amazed you’ve managed it so far,” Doona said bluntly.

  “Quite frankly, I am as well,” the woman replied. “I’m glad Lawrence is tucked away in my office. I’m sure he wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut. Harold seems to be doing a good job dealing with things and so far as I can tell, he hasn’t said anything. My staff knows better than to talk, of course. In a little while we’ll have to bring out the body, though, at which point we won’t be able to pretend to be investigating a robbery any longer. I’d appreciate your cooperation until that time, though.”

  “Not a problem,” Doona assured her.

  Margaret nodded and then turned and strode quickly back to the main building. Bessie and Doona watched until she was out of sight.

  “A stroll around the park, then?” Doona asked.

 
“Why not?”

  The weather was just about perfect for October and the two women walked in silence for some time, following trails through the woods and around the various cabins and lodges.

  “Wow, these look fancy,” Bessie said as they rounded a corner and spotted a handful of very large, two-storey buildings.

  “I saw them in the brochure,” Doona told her. “They have their own saunas and four bedrooms, each with its own en-suite. I’m sure they’re designed for multiple families to book together, because they’re very, very expensive.”

  A man walked out of one of the large lodges now, talking on his mobile phone. His face was red and he was clearly upset. “I said I want to have a meeting on Monday about this,” he was shouting. “Can you hear me now? I’m breaking up? Reception is terrible out here. Why I ever let Janet talk me into this holiday is beyond me. I’ll ring you back from a proper phone.” He stomped back into the cabin, slamming the front door as he went.

  “Someone needs a holiday,” Bessie whispered.

  “I feel sorry for Janet, whoever she is,” Doona replied.

  The rest of the walk was fairly uneventful, aside from a few near misses with small children on bicycles and one close encounter with a squirrel who seemed to think they wanted to play with him. An hour later they were back at the centre of the village.

  “So, shall we get some groceries in for our evening meal and then go back to our cottage and relax?” Doona asked.

  “That sounds perfect,” Bessie agreed.

  Inside the Squirrel’s Drey they found the small grocery store. It was well stocked with more than enough options for their evening meal. Bessie found herself selecting biscuits and fairy cakes from the bakery, along with a loaf of fresh bread to go with the cheeses and meats she’d already selected.

  “Those look amazing,” Doona said as she pointed out the selection of French-style pastries. “Maybe I’ll just try a few profiteroles and that little apple tart, oh, and….”

  Bessie laughed as her friend trailed off. The selection was large and everything looked good after their disappointing lunch. “We are here for the rest of the week,” she pointed out as Doona was having the shop assistant box up her selections. “You can always try some of the others tomorrow.”