Aunt Bessie Questions (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 17)

by Diana Xarissa

  Aunt Bessie Questions

  An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery

  Diana Xarissa

  Text Copyright © 2018 Diana Xarissa

  Cover Photo Copyright © 2018 Kevin Moughtin

  All Rights Reserved

  Created with Vellum

  For everyone still looking for their happily ever after.

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Glossary of Terms

  Other Notes

  Acknowledgments

  Aunt Bessie Remembers

  Also by Diana Xarissa

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  It’s hard for me to believe it, but this is book seventeen in the Isle of Man Cozy Mystery series. When I first wrote about Bessie in my romance, Island Inheritance, I had no plans to ever write about her again. There was something about her, though, that made me want to tell more of her story. This series came out of that desire. As she’d recently passed away in the romance, this first book in this series was set about fifteen years before the romance novel. (The first mystery was set in 1998, therefore.)

  While the books in the series can be read in any order, I always encourage readers to start at the beginning and work their way through the books in (alphabetical) order. My characters do change and develop as the series progresses.

  As with all of my books, this book is a work of fiction and all of the characters are fictional creations. Any resemblance they share with any real person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Isle of Man is a real place, and I encourage everyone to learn more about this unique and historic country. I often mention the various historical sites on the island in my books, and they are all real as well. The events in the books that take place within those sites are, however, fictional. All of the businesses in the story all also fictional and any resemblance that they bear to any real businesses is also coincidental.

  Because of the setting of the books, I use British and Manx spellings and terms. There is a glossary at the back of the book which explains some of them for readers in other parts of the world. As I’ve been living in the US for several years now, I suspect an increasing number of Americanisms are sneaking into my books. I apologize for those and will try to correct them if they are pointed out to me.

  Hearing from readers is one of the best things about being a writer. There are various ways to get in touch with me, and they are all listed on the “About the Author” page at the back of the book. I have a monthly newsletter all about new releases. You can sign up for it on my website. I’d love to include you!

  Chapter 1

  “Thank you so much for coming along,” Helen Baxter told Bessie. “I just know I’m going to forget everything that the vicar says tonight.”

  Elizabeth Cubbon, “Bessie” to nearly everyone, smiled at her friend. “I’m happy to come along,” she assured her, “and I’ll do my best to remember all of the instructions for tomorrow.”

  Helen nodded. “I’m sure Pete will remember them as well. He’s not nervous at all. But then, he’s done this once before.”

  “I should think that would make him more nervous.”

  “He told me that he’s much more sure this time. I hope he wasn’t just saying that. Do you think he was just telling me that because he knows I’m nervous?”

  Bessie took the woman’s hands and held them tightly. When Helen looked into her eyes, she replied. “Pete loves you, and he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. But even so, he’s not the type to say something just because he thinks you want to hear it. If he said it, he means it.”

  Helen nodded. “I’m making myself and all of my friends crazy,” she said apologetically.

  “You aren’t making me crazy, at least not yet. Just try to relax. Tomorrow is meant to be the happiest day of your life, after all.”

  “I don’t think it will be,” Helen replied. “I’m hoping the honeymoon will be happier. I really just want to get tomorrow over with.”

  Bessie nodded. “I can certainly understand that, but it is a special day, and I’m sure it’s going to be wonderful.”

  “Elizabeth did her best, anyway. I know she’d have been able to do a lot more if we could have afforded it.”

  “Money can’t buy happiness,” Bessie reminded her.

  “I’m not sure Elizabeth would agree with that,” Helen chuckled.

  Elizabeth Quayle, the daughter of one of Bessie’s dear friends, had taken on the role of wedding planner for Helen and her fiancé, Peter Corkill. Having grown up a spoiled only daughter of wealthy parents, Elizabeth had needed to be convinced that weddings didn’t have to be lavish or costly. Still, from what Bessie knew, the girl had worked hard to arrange a very special day for her clients.

  “Elizabeth is just grateful that you were willing to let her plan your day,” Bessie said. “Now she has one reference for her new wedding and event planning business.”

  “Once she gets one of her wealthy friends to let her plan their wedding, she won’t need to bother with me anymore.”

  “Having met a lot of her friends, I can’t imagine any of them having weddings in their near futures.”

  “Really? Are they all too busy making money and travelling?”

  “Among other things,” Bessie told her.

  “Do I look okay?” Helen asked, smoothing her blonde hair back and licking her lips.

  “You look lovely.”

  “This is the last time I’ll see Pete before I walk down the aisle tomorrow. I want him to remember me looking beautiful.”

  “I’m sure he always thinks you look beautiful.”

  Helen shrugged. “Okay, I want everyone else to think I look beautiful.”

  “Everyone? Who else is going to be there tonight?”

  “No one, just you and John Rockwell, since you’re going to be our witnesses. I suppose I mean random people walking past the church or something,” Helen said with a sigh. “I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m so nervous that I feel as if I’m going to be sick.”

  “Do we have time for some tea?”

  Helen glanced at the clock on Bessie’s wall. “Not really. We should probably be going. I don’t want to be late.”

  Bessie got up and collected her handbag from the table. “I’m ready when you are,” she told her friend.

  “I’m as ready as I’m going to be,” Helen replied. “I should have come over earlier and had tea with you, I suppose. I was just pacing around my flat, worrying myself into a tizzy.”

  “You would have been more than welcome. You’re welcome here after we’re done at the church, as well, if you want to come back.”

  “We’ll see. I think I’ll probably want to get home and get some rest. I don’t think I’ll sleep, but I can try.”

  “You know you can still change your mind about staying here tonight, if you’d like,” Bessie offered.

  “I know, but I think I’ll sleep better at home, and if I can’t sleep, at least I won’t be keeping anyone else awake while I pace around my flat, muttering to myself.”

  “Elizabeth said she offered you a room at Thie yn Traie, but you didn’t want to stay there, either.”

  “They have staff,” Hele
n said. “I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like staying there. I’m not comfortable with the idea of having people doing things for me like that.”

  Bessie understood what Helen meant. Thie yn Traie was a huge mansion not far from Bessie’s cottage on the beach. A home that large needed staff, but Bessie was sure she would feel similarly to Helen if she ever tried staying there. She found it strange enough when she went for lunch or tea with her friend Mary, Elizabeth’s mother. Maids, cooks, and butlers seemed to be everywhere in the home.

  Helen and Bessie headed out to Helen’s car. Bessie locked up her cottage behind them and then climbed into the passenger seat. She’d never learned to drive, relying on friends or, more often, a car service that provided taxis to her on a regular basis. The original owner of the company had been a dear friend who had given Bessie a preferential rate. When he sold the company to a Douglas-based firm, Bessie had continued using them, as she liked nearly all of the drivers.

  “I don’t expect this to take long,” Helen said as she drove. “The vicar just wants to walk us through what to expect tomorrow. Apparently, he usually does it a week or more before the wedding, but as we made our arrangements on rather short notice, this was the best he could do.”

  “I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight,” Bessie replied cheerfully. “If it takes a while, that’s fine with me.”

  “Thank you,” Helen said, “and before I forget, thank you for being a witness for us tomorrow. I’m not sure if I thanked you before or not.”

  “You did. You’ve thanked me at least ten times,” Bessie chuckled, “and you know I’m honoured to have been asked, truly I am. I’m so very happy for you and for Pete.”

  “Thank you. It’s strange getting married when you are older. I don’t have a circle of female friends, and my parents aren’t around anymore, either.”

  “You aren’t that old,” Bessie said firmly.

  “I felt old when I was wedding gown shopping,” Helen replied. “I’m going to be forty this year. All of the other brides in the shops seemed to be about nineteen, with glowing skins and gorgeous figures. I felt like a frumpy old maid.”

  Bessie laughed. “You’re beautiful and slender, and I’m sure no one thought you were an old maid. Of course, I fit that description better than anyone.”

  Bessie had never married, and now, aged somewhere between sixty and a hundred, she felt she was highly unlikely to ever do so. She’d stopped counting her birthdays once she was old enough for a free bus pass, and had no intention of paying them any more notice until she received her first telegram from the Queen.

  “You don’t seem at all like an old maid to me,” Helen told her. “I can’t imagine anyone would think that of you.”

  “I don’t really mind if they do. It’s true, after all.”

  “I’m sure someone told me that you were a widow,” Helen said after a moment. She pulled the car into the church car park, and once she was safely in a parking space, looked over at Bessie. “I can’t remember where I heard that, though.”

  “I’m not a widow, although my cottage is called ‘Treoghe Bwaane,’ which is ‘Widow’s Cottage’ in Manx.” Bessie replied. “I did have a romance or two in my younger days, but I never married. The one man that I would have wed, given the opportunity, passed away before we were able to marry. I bought Treoghe Bwaane right after his death. The cottage already had its name when I bought it, but it seemed incredibly suitable to my devastated eighteen-year-old self.”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to hear the whole story,” Helen said. She glanced at her watch. “Maybe on the way back to your cottage?”

  “I don’t mind at all. It was a long time ago.”

  “There’s Pete,” Helen said, nodding towards a car that was just turning into the car park.

  The pair got out of Helen’s car and stood next to it while Pete parked. He joined them a moment later. Pete’s dark brown hair looked as if it had just been cut, and its sprinkling of grey gave him a distinguished air. His usual frown seemed to turn itself into a grin as he looked at Helen.

  “You look gorgeous,” he whispered to Helen before kissing her cheek. Bessie got a hug.

  “Are you excited about tomorrow?” Bessie asked him.

  “Excited? I’m not sure that’s the word I would use,” Pete said with a shrug. “I’m really looking forward to it all being over. I can’t wait to get away for a while and just spend some time with my bride.”

  “Your plans sound wonderful,” Bessie replied.

  “New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas,” Helen said. “It’s all so exciting. I never dreamt I’d take a trip to the US, and now I’m actually going for more than a fortnight.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time,” Bessie told her.

  “I’m sure I’m going to gain twenty pounds,” Helen replied, “but once I get through tomorrow, I don’t care. As long as my wedding gown fits tomorrow, nothing else matters.”

  “I don’t care if you walk down the aisle in jeans and a T-shirt,” Pete told her. “Just make sure you turn up.”

  “I’ll be here,” Helen promised.

  Bessie blinked back a tear. She was incredibly happy for the couple, who had actually met during a murder investigation over a year ago. Another car turned into the car park before anyone else could speak.

  “That will be John,” Pete said. “He rang to warn me that he’d be bringing his kids with him.”

  “They just arrived a few days ago,” Bessie said. “I wonder how everyone is adjusting to their being here.”

  A moment later John Rockwell joined them, his children following behind him. John was tall, with dark hair and gorgeous green eyes. Both of his children had the same stunning eyes. He greeted Bessie and Helen with hugs and then shook hands with Pete.

  “I hope you don’t mind my bringing along the kids. I didn’t want to leave them home alone, not on their second night on the island,” he said.

  “It’s not a problem at all,” Helen assured him. “I just hope they aren’t too bored.”

  “They brought their handheld electronic games,” John told her. “They’ll be happy for hours.”

  Bessie thought that the looks on both children’s faces suggested otherwise, but she didn’t voice her opinion. Instead she greeted the new arrivals. “Thomas, I believe you’ve grown over a foot taller since the last time I saw you,” she told John’s fifteen-year-old son.

  “Yeah, Mum reckons she’s been feeding me too much,” he replied, grinning at her.

  “And Amy, my goodness, I’m not sure I would have recognised you if I’d passed you on the street. You’re a good deal more grown up now, aren’t you?” Bessie continued.

  Amy looked at Bessie and shrugged. “Maybe,” she muttered, looking down at the ground.

  Bessie knew the girl was thirteen and that thirteen was a difficult age. “Welcome to the island, both of you,” she told them.

  “Thanks,” Thomas replied. “We’re both happy to be here, really. It’s better than being at home with Mum and Harvey, anyway.”

  John’s former wife, Sue, had never stopped loving Harvey, even though they’d been broken up for some time before she’d started seeing John. Sue and John had been married, with their first child on the way, before Sue told John that she was still in love with her former boyfriend. The couple had tried to make their marriage work for many years in spite of that fact, but in the end, when Sue and Harvey crossed paths again, the marriage had failed. Now Sue and Harvey were honeymooning in a developing country where Harvey’s medical training would be useful, and the children were staying with John for several months.

  “Mum’s not bad,” Amy said softly.

  “Not on her own,” Thomas agreed, “but when Harvey’s around, she goes all stupid and tries to make sure he’s included in everything. I don’t like Harvey.”

  Amy looked at him for a minute and then shook her head. Bessie was sure she could see a tear in the girl’s eye.

>   “Have you met Pete and Helen?” Bessie asked them.

  “They know Inspector Corkill,” John said, using Pete’s title. “I don’t think they’ve met Helen. Thomas and Amy, this is Helen Baxter, but after tomorrow she’ll be Helen Corkill.”

  “Actually, I’m keeping my maiden name,” Helen corrected him. “It makes things easier, and also, well, in memory of my father. He was a very special man.”

  “That’s cool,” Amy said. “Mum is going to change her name and then we won’t have the same surname anymore.”

  “It’s a tradition that seems to be dying out,” Bessie said, “and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Women shouldn’t have to change their names just because they get married.”

  “When I get married, I think my husband should change his name,” Amy said. “Then we can both be Rockwells. It’s an awesome name.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Bessie said with a smile.

  “You can take my name if you want,” Helen told Pete.

  “Too much trouble,” Pete told her. “It’s easiest if we both just keep our own names.”

  “What time were you meant to be here?” John asked, glancing over at the church.

  “Seven,” Helen replied. She looked at her watch. “Which means we’re late.”

  “Only by a few minutes,” Pete said. “I’m sure the vicar won’t mind.”

  “Let’s go and find out,” Bessie suggested.

  Everyone turned and began to walk towards the church. At the front, Pete climbed up half a dozen steps and pulled on the door. It stayed firmly shut. He shrugged and then tried the other door. It didn’t open, either.