Aunt Bessie's Holiday

by Diana Xarissa

  “But she still has to investigate every lead,” Andrew said in a soothing tone. “Doona had motive, means and opportunity, after all.”

  Bessie nodded reluctantly. “How long will she keep Doona, do you think?”

  “I suspect Doona is doing her best to cooperate with Margaret,” Andrew replied. “Which means she won’t be insisting on being allowed to leave. Under the circumstances, Margaret might be keeping her for her own safety as well.”

  “What do you mean?” Bessie demanded.

  “More than one killer has tried to cover his or her tracks by killing another suspect and trying to make it look like suicide,” Andrew said. “This killer has already tried to frame Doona. That suggests a certain animosity towards her, at least to my mind.”

  Bessie shook her head. “Talking to you isn’t making me feel any better,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew replied, sounding sincere. Before he could continue, Bessie heard voices calling his name. They both stood up and Bessie only just spotted the quick grimace that flashed over Andrew’s face before he smiled at the group that now descended upon them.

  “Time for breakfast,” a young man said heartily.

  “Hungry,” a small child chirped from the middle of the group.

  “You all start for the Squirrel’s Drey and I’ll meet you there in a minute,” Andrew suggested.

  A middle-aged woman frowned, giving Bessie a cold look. She opened her mouth to speak, but it looked as if Andrew caught her eye, causing her to change her mind. Instead, she spun on her heel and began to walk away. The others followed, chatting loudly amongst themselves.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you to anyone,” Andrew said as he watched them leaving. “It just seemed too much like hard work.”

  Bessie laughed. “I rather agree with you,” she said. “I’d never remember them all, anyway. There are far too many of them.”

  “I’ll have to try to arrange a meal with you and one or two of them at a time,” he replied. “They’re all good people, just a bit overwhelming when taken as a group.”

  “You’d better go,” Bessie told him. “I’d hate for them to come back looking for you.”

  He smiled at her and then gave her a quick hug. “Let’s have dinner, just the two of us,” he suggested. “We can talk more about the case. Who knows, maybe Margaret will solve it between now and then.”

  “My friend John Rockwell, from the Isle of Man Constabulary, is meant to be coming over some time today,” Bessie replied. “If he’s here, we should include him in dinner.”

  “Of course,” Andrew agreed quickly. “And Doona as well, if she’s back,” he added.

  “Six o’clock at our cabin?” Bessie asked. “We can have something delivered for however many people there are.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “In the meantime, just remember: the good guys always win the end.”

  Bessie found herself smiling again as she watched the man walk away. He was charming and kind and she was glad they’d met, even under such difficult circumstances.

  She glanced at her watch and frowned. It was still rather early in the morning and she had no idea what to do with the rest of her day. She felt as if she was simply waiting around to see what was going to happen next, which wasn’t a good feeling.

  As she’d skipped breakfast in favour of the walk, she headed back into the cabin to get something to eat. She put some bread in the toaster and drank a glass of orange juice while she waited it for it to pop. She was just washing up her dishes when her mobile phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Bessie, it’s Doona,” a tired voice said.

  “Are you okay?” Bessie asked, letting every bit of the concern she was feeling into her tone.

  “I’m fine, just tired,” was Doona’s reply. “The inspector thought I might like to ring you in case you were worried about me.”

  “Of course I’m worried about you,” Bessie replied. “When will you be back here?”

  “Probably not today,” Doona told her. “I’m trying to help the inspector work out who sent those photos and things to me two years ago. We’re working through a lot of things and I can’t see us finishing soon.”

  “Are you under arrest?”

  “No, not officially, anyway. I suspect if I kicked up a fuss about leaving the inspector would let me go back to Lakeview, but I’m trying to cooperate. I want Charles’s killer found at least as much as anyone else does.”

  “But we’re supposed to be on holiday,” Bessie said. She frowned when she realised she was more or less whining. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to moan.”

  “It’s fine,” Doona told her. “This certainly isn’t the holiday I was hoping for, but we didn’t have anything on the schedule for today, did we?”

  Bessie glanced at the sheet on the table where Doona had written down all of their scheduled activities. “No, nothing today,” she said.

  “That’s what I thought. If I’m still here tomorrow morning, I’ll start fussing,” Doona told Bessie. “I don’t want to miss that second watercolour class or our trip around Torver Castle.”

  “John should be here later today,” Bessie said. “I suspect he’ll be in touch with Inspector Hopkins when he arrives.”

  “I’ll feel better when he’s here,” Doona said quietly. “Although I do think Inspector Hopkins is doing a good job.”

  “Meanwhile, Andrew and I have been talking about the suspects,” Bessie said. “He suggested….”

  Bessie stopped when Doona suddenly began to cough violently. It seemed to take a while before the coughing fit finally died down. “Are you okay?” Bessie asked. “Do you need a doctor?”

  “I’m fine,” Doona replied. “Did I mention that the inspector was kind enough to let me use the phone in her office to ring you?”

  “No, I suppose that was nice of her, but….” This time Bessie stopped herself as she realised what Doona was trying to tell her. There was a very good chance someone else was listening to the call. “Anyway, John should be here later,” Bessie repeated herself. “Is there anything you need?”

  “No, I’m okay. I can survive another twenty-four hours or so if I need to,” Doona assured her. “You should relax and enjoy your day. Maybe try out the pool. We haven’t done that yet.”

  “Maybe,” Bessie said vaguely.

  “I’ll probably see you in the morning,” Doona told her. “Please try to have fun and relax. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Easier said than done,” Bessie murmured after Doona had disconnected. Bessie put her phone down and paced around the tiny cottage. Doona hadn’t sounded too distressed, but she’d known someone was probably listening to the conversation. Going to the pool held no appeal at all for Bessie, so she sat down with her book club books and tried to get lost in their pages. After only a short time, she was grateful when her mobile interrupted.

  “Bessie, it’s John. I’m still working on flights and a hire car.”

  “So you don’t know when you’ll be getting here?”

  “No, but it isn’t going to be today,” he replied.

  Bessie sighed. “I was really looking forward to seeing you,” she said.

  “I know. And I’m eager to get there, but a few things came up here this morning and by the time I sorted through them all it seems I’d missed quite a few of the flights for the day.”

  “There aren’t as many flights this time of year as there are in the summer months,” Bessie said.

  “And I’d rather not fly into London and have to drive all the way up there,” John told her. “I was hoping to fly into Liverpool or Manchester, but I missed both of the morning flights, and the afternoon ones are both full. I could go to Ronaldsway and wait and see if there’s a cancellation, but it seemed wiser to just book a morning flight and go from there.”

  “I suppose,” Bessie said, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

  “Have you heard anything from Doona?”

 
Bessie filled him in on her brief chat with Doona and also told him about her conversation with Andrew.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting Mr. Cheatham,” he told Bessie when she’d finished. “He’s quite well known in police circles.”

  “Really?”

  “He worked for Scotland Yard for many years and he and his team solved some very difficult cases.”

  “I’ve never heard of him,” Bessie said.

  “He’s always kept a very low profile, but he’s very good at investigative work, or he used to be. He’s been retired for many years now, of course.”

  “Did you get a flight booked for tomorrow, then?” Bessie asked.

  “I’m flying into Manchester a few minutes after ten,” he replied. “I’m still working on arranging for a hire car, but assuming I get that sorted, I should be at Lakeview by midday.”

  “Let me know if anything changes,” Bessie requested.

  “I will do,” he replied.

  It wasn’t until after they’d disconnected that Bessie wondered why John hadn’t simply taken the ferry. That was something she’d have to ask him when she saw him, she decided.

  It was still only late morning, but Bessie couldn’t get excited about reading any more in her books. Instead, she headed out to the Squirrel’s Drey to do some shopping. Maybe she’d cook something for herself and Andrew for dinner that evening, rather than ordering from one of the restaurants.

  Nothing in the small grocery store tempted her in the slightest, and the smell from the Chinese restaurant had her mouth watering, so Bessie changed her mind again. She picked up a sandwich and a bag of crisps for her lunch and then found a quiet bench where she enjoyed her meal.

  Somehow she managed to waste the afternoon, walking around the park, watching boats on the lake and laughing at the antics of the small children in a huge play area made up of soft foam obstacles. She was back at number eight at half five, ready for her guest.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Andrew was right on time, and after a short discussion, they agreed to go and eat at the Chinese restaurant rather than have food delivered.

  “This way we don’t have to clean up after ourselves,” Andrew said brightly.

  “And I think I need to get out of the cottage,” Bessie told him.

  The restaurant was moderately busy, but the hostess was able to find a table for two in a quiet corner for them.

  “Let’s get a bottle of wine,” Andrew suggested. “We’ll drink it slowly and just let it relax us.”

  “I could do with some relaxing,” Bessie admitted. “Between the murder and Doona’s arrest, I’m not really sleeping well.”

  “Doona hasn’t been arrested,” Andrew told her. “She’s working with Margaret on figuring a few things out. Margaret feels that keeping Doona away from Lakeview for the moment is for the best.”

  “Does she think Doona’s in danger?” Bessie asked.

  “I don’t think so, at least not immediate danger. But you have to admit that she’s definitely safer where she is.”

  Bessie frowned, even as she nodded. “I still wish she were here. And I wish we were just enjoying our holiday, not dealing with all of this.”

  “No one can blame you for that,” Andrew replied.

  The waiter delivered the wine and Andrew performed the necessary tasting ritual before the waiter filled both of their glasses.

  “To new friends,” Andrew suggested, holding up his glass.

  Bessie touched hers to his gently. “And old friends,” she added.

  They ordered far more food than they expected to eat. “I can put leftovers in our cabin’s refrigerator for my lunch tomorrow,” Bessie said, justifying the extravagance.

  “Or we can just eat it all tonight,” Andrew said with a grin.

  “So, I take it your friend from home didn’t manage to get here today, at least not yet,” he said after a moment.

  “He couldn’t get a flight today,” Bessie explained. “He should be here tomorrow around midday.”

  “I understand from Margaret that she might have something to announce around that time,” Andrew told her.

  “Something to announce? What does that mean?”

  “I’m hoping for your sake and Doona’s that it means an arrest,” Andrew replied. “But I couldn’t get her to tell me anything at all.”

  “I just hope she isn’t planning to announce Doona’s arrest,” Bessie said worriedly.

  “She isn’t,” Andrew told her in a confident voice. “She would have warned me if that were the case.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Bessie muttered.

  “I know I’m right,” Andrew said.

  “So who is she going to arrest?” Bessie had to ask.

  “I don’t know,” Andrew admitted. “I don’t even know if she’s going to arrest someone. She might be announcing something else altogether.”

  “Like what?”

  Andrew shrugged. “We could go around and around all night, trying to work it out,” he said, “but it would be a waste of time and energy. I can think of a great deal more interesting topics to discuss.”

  Bessie wasn’t sure she agreed, but she didn’t object. She couldn’t see any way their conversation would help Doona, so she let Andrew choose a subject.

  For the next two hours, they ate more food than Bessie had imagined they could, sipped their way through the bottle of wine and told one another all about their lives.

  “I must come and see the Isle of Man for myself,” Andrew said eventually. “You make it sound incredible.”

  “It’s home and I can’t imagine living anywhere else,” Bessie said simply.

  “I’ve never felt that way about anywhere,” Andrew mused. “I travelled a great deal in my army days, and then once I was married and the children were arriving, we moved every few years into bigger and bigger houses in different parts of London to accommodate them. London is a great city, but it never felt like home to me.”

  “I haven’t been to London for many years,” Bessie said. “I’m not fond of big cities.”

  The waiter arrived to take their sweets order, but both were too full to even consider a pudding.

  “I wish I could,” Bessie said as she glanced down the menu. “Everything sounds delicious, but I’m quite full.”

  “We can pack something up for you take back to your accommodation,” the waiter suggested.

  “Oh, don’t tempt me,” Bessie said with a laugh.

  He brought them their bill, along with two fortune cookies. Andrew quickly handed the man his credit card.

  “Dinner is on me,” he told Bessie firmly. “And you get first choice of fortune cookie as well.”

  “Would it do me any good to argue?” Bessie asked.

  “I’ll chose a cookie first, if you prefer,” Andrew replied, deliberately misunderstanding her.

  Bessie thought about challenging him, but decided against it. Instead, she picked up a cookie from the plate. She broke it open and found her fortune.

  “You have many good and true friends,” she read. “Well, I hope that’s true.”

  Andrew opened his cookie and smiled. “New friends add new spice to life,” he read.

  “I don’t suppose either of us can complain about our fortunes, anyway,” Bessie said. “Or about the food here. That was excellent.”

  “It really was,” Andrew agreed.

  They both got to their feet as the waiter returned with Andrew’s card. “Thank you, sir,” he said as Andrew handed him the signed credit slip.

  “Let’s walk back the long way around the lake,” Andrew suggested, as they exited the Squirrel’s Drey.

  “I think I need to walk off all that food and wine,” Bessie agreed.

  They walked slowly in a companionable silence for several minutes. Bessie suddenly felt as if she didn’t want the evening to end. She felt relaxed by the good food, excellent company and the alcohol she’d consumed. The last thing she felt like doing was going back to her empty cabi
n to worry about Doona more.

  “Let’s play crazy golf,” Andrew suggested as they reached the far side of the lake.

  “Crazy golf?” Bessie echoed, certain she was hearing things.

  “Sure, why not?”

  Bessie looked at her watch. It was nearly nine o’clock and it felt too late to be out playing games.

  “When was the last time you played?” Andrew asked her.

  Bessie thought for a minute and then shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ve ever actually played crazy golf,” she told him.

  Andrew sighed. “You’ve missed out on so much,” he said. “Come on.”

  Still shaking her head slightly, Bessie followed Andrew to the small stand at the entrance to the crazy golf courses.

  “You’ll only be able to play one course for tonight,” the young man behind the counter told them. “Last entry is at nine.”

  “One course will do,” Andrew assured him.

  The man handed them each a club and a ball and then handed Andrew a small score card and tiny pencil.

  “Surely we don’t need to keep score,” Bessie said.

  “We don’t have to,” Andrew agreed. “But I’m keeping the tiny pencil for my granddaughter. She’ll love it.”

  Bessie laughed and followed Andrew into the enclosed crazy golf area. Aside from a family of four who were just finishing the last hole on one course, they were the only people there.

  “Do you want to do the ‘rabbit’ course or the ‘squirrel’ course?” Andrew asked in a serious voice.

  “What’s the difference?” Bessie asked, looking around in confusion.

  “The ‘rabbit’ course is a par 36, which means they expect you to sink every ball in two shots. The ‘squirrel’ course is a par 38, which means two of the holes must be slightly trickier.”

  “Oh, in that case, I think we’d better try ‘rabbit,’ if it’s easier,” Bessie said.

  “’Rabbit’ it is,” Andrew told her. He led her over to the first hole, designated by a small flag with a number “1” on it. “I’ll go first, shall I? You can just follow what I do.”

  Bessie nodded and watched as Andrew set his ball on the ground and then carefully hit it down the short green. There were a few small bumps along the side of the green, but nothing hindered the ball’s progress right down the centre. It stopped just short of the hole and Andrew easily tapped it in.