Aunt Bessie's Holiday

by Diana Xarissa

  “Your turn,” he said with a smile.

  Bessie put her ball down and then shrugged. “I’m not even sure how to hold the club,” she confessed.

  Andrew quickly showed her and Bessie found herself lining up her shot, feeling incredibly foolish. She hit the ball gently and watched, amazed, as it rolled down the green towards the hole. It took her two additional shots to actually sink it, but she felt exhilarated when it fell in.

  “I did it,” she exclaimed in surprise.

  “And in only three shots,” Andrew said. “That’s excellent for your first try.”

  An hour later, Bessie felt as if she’d laughed more in the previous sixty minutes than she had in several years. The holes got “crazier” as they went along, with various obstacles to get around, over or through. Andrew patiently coached her through different techniques for dealing with each one and Bessie ended the round feeling as if she hadn’t totally humiliated herself.

  “You did very well,” Andrew told her as they returned their clubs.

  “It was actually rather fun,” Bessie said, surprise in her voice.

  Andrew laughed. “It’s meant to be fun,” he told her.

  “Have a nice evening,” the man behind the counter told them both. As soon as Bessie and Andrew took a few steps away, he was quickly turning off lights and shutting down for the night.

  “The poor man was just waiting for us to leave,” Bessie whispered. “I should have played more quickly.”

  “We didn’t do too badly. I walked past last night at half ten and there were still a dozen people playing,” Andrew told her. “I’m just glad you had fun.”

  “It was wonderful to do something out of the ordinary. It took my mind off everything.”

  “And now, hopefully, you’re tired enough to sleep well tonight.”

  Bessie nodded. “I feel as if I will,” she said, pleased with the idea.

  Andrew walked her to her cottage door. “Thank you for a very pleasant evening,” he told her. “I hope your friend gets here safely tomorrow, and that you no longer need him to be here.”

  “Oh, I do hope so, too,” Bessie said with alacrity.

  Inside the cabin, she got ready for bed and then grabbed her pile of book club books. She wasn’t more than half way through any of them and the club was meeting in only two days. At least she’d read Emma before, although now that she was rereading it, she was surprised to discover that she’d forgotten much of the story.

  Now she curled up in bed with the book and read until her eyes began to close. After she switched off the light, she fell into a deep and restful sleep, not waking once until the next morning, a little bit past her usual time.

  After showering, Bessie fixed herself a bowl of cereal with milk for breakfast. It was raining a steady and soaking rain outside, so she wasn’t in any hurry to take her walk. After she ate, she finished reading Emma, sighing with satisfaction as Austen tied up all the loose ends and gave everyone his or her happily ever after.

  The weather hadn’t improved, but Bessie struggled into her waterproofs and went out for her walk anyway. She kept it short, just a quick circle of the smaller of the two lakes, and returned back to her cabin without seeing another person who’d ventured outside in the miserable weather. After hanging her things up to dry, she decided she might as well work on another book. Before she got settled in, though, her mobile rang.

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way,” John told her when she answered. “I should be with you around midday if everything goes well.”

  “Ring my mobile when you arrive at the park and I’ll let you know where I am,” Bessie suggested. “I have a watercolour class at one o’clock, so I’ll probably be getting some lunch around midday.”

  Bessie had barely disconnected when someone knocked on the front door. She crossed to the door, wondering who had braved the rain. When she pulled the door open, she could only stare at Doona for a moment.

  “I’m getting rather wet,” Doona said as Bessie gaped at her.

  “Oh, goodness, but do come in,” Bessie said, stepping backwards to let her friend through the door.

  “My keys are somewhere in the bottom of my bag,” Doona told her. “It was raining so hard I didn’t want to open it. Then I was afraid you might be out somewhere,” Doona explained. She stood for a moment in the doorway, waving to the man driving the police car that was stopped outside their door. He waved back and then drove slowly away.

  “I thought cars weren’t allowed in the village,” Bessie said.

  “Clearly they make an exception for the police,” Doona replied.

  Bessie shook her head to try to clear it and then gave her best friend a big hug. “I missed you,” she whispered.

  “I missed you as well,” Doona replied. “Although everyone I met at the police station was very nice and they treated me very well.”

  “It still wasn’t much of a holiday, though,” Bessie complained.

  “No, but anyway, I’m back now,” Doona said brightly. “In time for the watercolour class and the castle tour tonight.”

  “Why did the inspector let you go?” Bessie asked. “Did she finally realise you didn’t do it?”

  “I think she just got rather busy with other things,” Doona replied.

  “What other things?”

  “She’s arrested Lawrence Jenkins.”

  “For Charles’s murder?” Bessie asked excitedly.

  “Unfortunately, no. He’s been arrested for things related to his business ventures. I gather she uncovered some evidence of fraud or money laundering or something. She wouldn’t give me any details, but she suggested that my solicitor might want to be on standby if I really did inherit anything from Charles.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Bessie said, frowning.

  “No. I suppose even if I am Charles’s heir, I won’t be inheriting millions,” Doona said.

  “But if Lawrence has been arrested, what about Herbert Howe?”

  “As far as I know, only Lawrence has been arrested. That doesn’t mean Herbert isn’t next, of course.”

  “I wonder if Andrew knows more than you do,” Bessie said speculatively.

  “Why don’t you ring him and invite him over?” Doona suggested.

  Bessie tried his mobile number, but no one answered.

  “Never mind, I’m sure we’ll all find out more as the day goes on,” Doona said. “Margaret is going to hold a press conference at five to announce the arrest.”

  “So does she also think he’s the killer?” Bessie asked.

  Doona shrugged. “I think she’d like him to be. It would be neat and tidy and get two big cases off her desk at one time, but she won’t be charging him with murder until she’s absolutely certain he did it.”

  “Which means you aren’t off the hook yet,” Bessie said with a sigh.

  “No, but at least everyone will have something else to talk about for a while,” Doona replied.

  “I’m just so glad you’re back,” Bessie exclaimed, giving her friend another hug. “John’s on his way over. He should be here around midday.”

  “I hope he isn’t in too much trouble for just taking off like this,” Doona said. “But it will be nice to have him here.”

  “I’m not sure where he’ll stay, but we can sort that out when he gets here. What do you want to do now?”

  “Really, I’d love a long nap, but I’ll settle for a long and very hot shower,” Doona replied. “And then, when I feel properly clean again, I’d like to get some lunch. I’m starving and I feel as if I haven’t eaten anything in days.”

  “We’ll go over to the Squirrel’s Drey and you can get something from every single food court vendor,” Bessie suggested.

  “Perfect,” Doona laughed.

  Bessie sat down with her books again, in a much happier frame of mind. She read the last few chapters of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, enjoying the story even though she knew the twist that was coming. By the time Doona was rea
dy for lunch, Bessie had finished with Agatha Christie and was laughing her way through Bill Bryson.

  “I hate to interrupt your reading, but I need lunch,” Doona said when she walked into the small sitting room where Bessie was curled up. “Even if we do have to fight our way through the miserable rain to get it.”

  Bessie looked out the window and frowned. The rain was still coming down heavily. Bessie’s waterproofs were still damp, but she put them on again. She hadn’t bothered with an umbrella earlier, but now she picked hers up from the small foyer. “I hope it isn’t too windy for this,” she remarked.

  “Let’s hope,” Doona replied, waving her own umbrella.

  The wind was only light and the pair were quickly walking single-file down the path towards the Squirrel’s Drey under their protective covers. Although there were a few more people out and about than there had been during Bessie’s earlier walk, the village still felt much quieter than normal.

  “It’s checking in and out day,” Bessie exclaimed as she noticed the cars that were beginning to line the side of the roads.

  “It is,” Doona agreed. “Everyone who is leaving must be out before midday and then the new arrivals can’t arrive before two. I suspect it will be very quiet in the Squirrel’s Drey.”

  Doona was right. The large and usually bustling food court was almost empty.

  “Too bad we don’t have time to go to the pool now,” Doona commented as they studied the various food choices. “We’d have the place practically to ourselves.”

  “But we have our class at one,” Bessie said.

  “If we ever visit again, we’ll plan it better,” Doona told her. “And plan to spend the whole afternoon during check-in at the pool.”

  “That’s what my children are doing,” a voice from behind them announced.

  Bessie turned around and smiled. “Andrew, how nice to see you again.”

  “And you,” he said with a small bow. “And it is especially nice to see you again,” he said to Doona. “You don’t look too distressed after your ordeal.”

  “Everyone was as pleasant as they could be under the circumstances,” Doona replied. “But the food wasn’t terrific.”

  Andrew laughed. “Let’s stop talking and focus on finding you some food, then,” he suggested.

  Doona quickly decided on Indian, ordering herself enough food for two people. Bessie placed her own smaller order at the same counter. When they turned around with their trays, Andrew waved from a corner table where he was sitting with a slice of pizza and a fizzy drink.

  “We tried to ring you earlier,” Bessie told him when they’d joined him. “We were wondering if you’d heard anything about Lawrence’s arrest.”

  “Only that it was going to happen,” he replied. “And that it has to do with the business, not murder.”

  “So we aren’t any closer to finding out who killed Charles,” Bessie said with a sigh.

  “I’m sure Margaret is looking even more closely at Lawrence for it,” Andrew said. “And maybe at Herbert Howe as well.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Bessie muttered as Herbert and Jessica walked into the building.

  “I thought you’d been locked up for killing Charles,” Jessica called across the room, staring hard at Doona.

  Bessie glanced around, relieved to find that there were only a handful of people in the room who might have heard Jessica’s words. None of them seemed to be paying Jessica the slightest bit of attention.

  Jessica strolled over to their table. “Don’t tell me you didn’t do it?” she demanded of Doona.

  “Of course I didn’t do it,” Doona replied angrily.

  “But then who did?” Jessica wailed dramatically.

  “Now, now,” Herbert said as he joined them. “You mustn’t upset yourself. I’m sure Inspector Hopkins will work it all out soon enough.”

  “Have you seen Lawrence today?” Jessica asked abruptly.

  “No,” Doona replied. “Should I have?”

  “Maybe not,” Jessica said with a shrug. “Only he was supposed to be meeting us here and he isn’t around.”

  Bessie exchanged glances with Doona. Clearly news of Lawrence’s arrest hadn’t reached the Howes yet.

  “Let’s get something to eat,” Herbert suggested to his wife. “When Lawrence gets here, he can join us.”

  Jessica shrugged and turned away from Bessie and her friends. Without another word or a backwards glance, she walked off. Herbert glanced at Bessie and then quickly followed his wife towards the food counters.

  “What a thoroughly unpleasant pair,” Bessie said when they were out of earshot.

  “Ah, Doona, there you are,” a voice called across the large space.

  Bessie sighed at yet another interruption. She wanted to talk to Andrew and spend some time with her friend. She still managed a smile when Harold joined them a moment later.

  “I rang the police this morning and Margaret told me she was letting you go,” he said to Doona. “I was so pleased to hear that. I wanted to talk to you about my job here, and, well, some other things.”

  Doona shook her head. “I don’t think I’m the person you want to talk to,” she said.

  “But I heard you were inheriting Charles’s share of the company,” Harold protested. “We really must talk.”

  “I don’t know that I’m inheriting anything,” Doona replied. “Let’s have this chat after the will is read, okay?”

  Harold frowned. “I suppose,” he said, clearly reluctantly.

  Doona ignored him and began to eat her lunch. After an awkward moment, he turned and walked away.

  “You’re very popular today,” Andrew remarked.

  “Lucky me,” Doona retorted.

  “And another one,” Bessie murmured as Nathan Beck walked into the food court. He looked around the room and then headed straight for them.

  “Where’s Lawrence?” he demanded, staring at Doona.

  “I haven’t seen him in days,” Doona replied, returning the stare.

  “We were supposed to meet to discuss suppliers this morning,” Nathan told her. “He never showed up.”

  “I’m not sure why you think I’d know where he was,” Doona said.

  “You’re partners now, right? That’s what I heard, anyway.”

  “We aren’t anything of the kind,” Doona replied sharply. “I barely know the man.”

  “Well, he told me you were his new partner, what with Charles gone and all. I want to change back to my old supplier and Lawrence said he’d listen to my reasons. If he isn’t around, I suppose I can tell you.”

  Doona held up a hand. “I don’t know anything about suppliers,” she said. “And I’m not Lawrence’s partner. You’ll have to wait for him.”

  “But I wanted to start making the changes,” Nathan said, in something close to a whine.

  “Maybe you could talk to Herbert Howe,” Bessie suggested, smiling at Nathan’s scowl. “I understand he owns part of the company as well.”

  “I’d rather not,” Nathan replied shortly. He glanced around the room and then shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered before turning and walking away.

  “Eat quickly,” Andrew suggested. “Before anyone else arrives.”

  They all laughed, but then did just as he’d recommended. Bessie was just swallowing her last bite when her mobile rang.

  “John’s here,” she announced after the short call. “He’s picked up a map and is walking over now.”

  “That’s good news,” Doona said.

  It seemed only a moment later that the man strode in. Bessie felt a rush of relief when she saw his familiar face.

  “John,” she called, rising to her feet. He had hugs for both her and Doona before they introduced him to Andrew.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said formally. “I’ve read a lot of your books.”

  “You write books?” Bessie asked.

  “Not really,” Andrew said, flushing. “Just training manuals and the like
.”

  “Excellent ones,” John added.

  Andrew shrugged. “Anyway, welcome to Lakeview Holiday Park,” he said to John.

  John glanced at the remains of their lunch. “I hope you don’t mind if I grab a bite to eat,” he said. “I skipped breakfast.”

  Bessie pressed her lips together. It wouldn’t do to lecture him now, not when he’d been travelling all day to get here for Doona. She made a mental note to speak to him another time about taking proper care of himself. He was still far too thin, mostly, she suspected, from the stress of his impending divorce.

  When John returned with his tray of food, Doona brought him up to date on the latest developments of the case. He ate quickly and then pulled a notebook out of his pocket.

  “I’ve been taking notes all along,” he said. “Hoping I wouldn’t need them. As means and opportunity are rather open, I’ve been focussing on motive.”

  “That’s how I’ve been approaching it as well,” Andrew said.

  John smiled, obviously pleased at the agreement. “So, we have Jessica, who may or may not have just been dumped by Charles. Her husband, Herbert, may have personal or professional reasons for killing the man. Lawrence was his business partner, who was doing something illegal, from what I’ve heard just this morning. Harold lost his job to Charles. Nathan was upset about the cost cutting that Charles was doing. I’m less clear on motives for Mai and Monique.”

  “Monique had some sort of relationship with Charles,” Doona said. “She claims they were just friends. She’s also very protective of her husband, even though she also says they were having difficulties.”

  John nodded and made a note. “And Mai?”

  “There’s something going on between her and Lawrence,” Bessie said. “They had a very intense conversation in the arts and crafts studio and she said something about Lawrence getting her the job here. Apparently Mai used to get Charles to give her special privileges as well. Maybe that was connected to her relationship with Lawrence, whatever that is.”