Everyone laughed. After a moment Hugh whispered something to Grace and then everyone began speaking.
“I’m so glad they have custard creams,” Doona said to Bessie. “They’re my favourite, and I never buy them anymore.”
Doona had been going through a difficult second divorce when she’d met Bessie. They’d actually met at a beginners Manx language class nearly three years earlier. It had been Doona’s first attempt at the course. Bessie had provided the woman with a shoulder to cry on and just enough tough love to pull Doona through her darkest days.
Doona had gained some weight during the difficult period, often burying her emotions in biscuits and cakes. When that same ex-husband had recently been murdered, Doona had found that she’d lost interest in food during the stressful investigation that followed. Now that her weight was back to where she wanted it, she was determined not to regain what she’d lost, no matter how tempting custard cream biscuits were.
“I like them as well,” Bessie told her. “And so much more than plain digestives.”
“I think that’s true for everyone,” Doona said, nodding towards the plate that now contained a single custard cream and a huge pile of digestives.
Bessie laughed and then refilled the empty half of the plate. Hugh’s eyes lit up as she did so.
“Thanks,” he said as he took a handful of custard creams.
“There won’t be anything but digestives left for our second break,” Bessie commented.
“That’s okay,” Hugh said. “I like them as well, just not as much as custard creams.”
Bessie shook her head. In her experience, there wasn’t much that Hugh didn’t like to eat. He was just fortunate that he didn’t seem to gain any weight no matter how indulgent he was. She helped herself to another biscuit. She’d never had to worry about her weight, either, and she credited her daily walks along Laxey Beach for keeping her slender over the years.
Grace leaned over and took a couple of biscuits out of Hugh’s hand. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?” she asked him.
Hugh shook his head. “Not with you,” he said softly.
“I think we should get back to work,” Marjorie said a minute later. “As everyone is so reluctant to try out what they’ve learned so far, I think we’ll take a few minutes to review what we’ve already covered. I want you all to leave tonight feeling as if you can at least greet people in Manx.”
As people began to return to their seats, Bessie caught Henry’s arm. “Is everything okay?” she whispered to the man.
He frowned and glanced at Laura, who was a few steps in front of him. “I don’t know,” he hissed back. “And I can’t talk now.” He nodded at Laura, who had taken her seat and now turned to see what was keeping Henry.
Feeling confused and unsettled by Henry’s words, Bessie slid back into her own seat. As Marjorie resumed the class, Bessie couldn’t stop worrying about Henry.
“Let’s stop there,” Marjorie said after a short while. “I want everyone to walk around and have a short conversation with everyone else. There are a lot of you, so you should be able to practice all of your simple greetings and replies. Try not to repeat yourself until you’ve run out of things you know.”
Bessie frowned. “That won’t take long,” she muttered to Doona as she stood up. As she was friends with everyone in the class, the exercise was enjoyable, even if she found it difficult. “I should be better at this,” she exclaimed to John as he asked her a question that she couldn’t understand. “This is the fourth time I’ve taken this class.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” John told her. “I bought a book on basic Manx at the museum, and started studying last month, once I’d signed up for the class. Things are quiet at work at the moment, so I’ve had plenty of time to get ahead.”
“Maybe I should borrow your book,” Bessie grumbled.
“Not until this class is finished,” John told her.
Hugh and Grace were whispering together when Bessie joined them. “Kys t’ou?” she asked.
“Braew,” Grace replied. “Although I’m already feeling overwhelmed. Manx isn’t like any other language I’ve ever studied.”
“Have you studied many?” Bessie asked.
“I did French and Spanish A levels,” the girl replied. “And I took classes in French at uni as well. I used to think that one day I’d move to the French countryside and teach English to little French children, rather than French to English children.”
“She did all of the talking when we were on our honeymoon,” Hugh said, smiling proudly. “She was brilliant.”
“Well, I did my best,” Grace said, blushing. “I really enjoy languages, but Manx is harder than I was expecting. And I already knew a lot of what we’re doing tonight. We try to use some of the basics in our classrooms at school.”
“Hugh said you were supply teaching for the rest of the school year,” Bessie said. “Are you enjoying it?”
“I love it. I’m working with year two, so six- and seven-year-olds. They’re great fun. The woman I’ve replaced is on maternity leave until September, but there are whispers that she might not come back for another year. Selfishly, I’m hoping she doesn’t and that I can keep her job while she’s off,” Grace said.
“Married life seems to suit you,” Bessie commented. The girl seemed happier than Bessie had ever seen her, an emotion that matched her new husband’s almost exactly.
“It’s wonderful,” Grace enthused. “I mean, it isn’t always perfect, but I love being Mrs. Hugh Watterson.”
Hugh’s smile stretched across his entire face as he slid his arm around his wife. “I don’t know how I ever got so lucky,” he told Bessie. “I keep thinking Grace is just a dream and I’m going to wake up soon.”
“I think you’re both lucky to have found each other,” Bessie said. “Now you just have to…”
“I’m not sure this is helping your Manx,” Liz interrupted with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry,” Bessie said. “C’raad t’ou cummal?”
“Doolish,” the girl replied. “C’raad t’ou cummal?”
“Laxey,” Bessie told her.
“Feer vie,” Liz said.
Feeling as if she’d just passed a difficult exam, Bessie crossed to Joney’s side. “Kys t’ou?” she asked almost automatically.
“Ta mee braew,” Joney replied. “Although my daughter has texted three times since I’ve been here, and she’s making me a little bit crazy.”
“Is everything okay?” Bessie asked, feeling concerned.
“Everything’s fine,” Joney replied. “The baby started walking a few days ago and she seems determined to walk into tables, chairs and walls on a regular basis. I’ve promised to go straight there after my class so that I can see the huge bump she just got on her head. My daughter wants to rush her to A&E, but I suspect the bump will have sorted itself before I arrive. Babies are forever doing themselves damage, but they heal quickly.”
“I can’t imagine how stressful it must be, looking after a baby or small child,” Bessie said, thankful that she’d never had children herself. She was quite content to be something of an honourary auntie to the children of Laxey instead. They didn’t usually come knocking on her door for tea and sympathy until they were close to their teens.
“Has everyone spoken to everyone else?” Marjorie asked from the front of the room.
“I still need to talk to Henry and Laura,” Bessie said, feeling guilty that she’d been spending more time chatting in English than practicing her Manx.
“Five more minutes,” Marjorie announced. “And then we’ll move on.”
Henry and Laura were sitting together at their table, seemingly ignoring one another. Bessie greeted them both in her basic Manx and then slid into a nearby chair.
“What’s wrong?” she asked gently.
Henry glanced at Laura and then shrugged. “Nothing, really,” he said, the grim look on his face contrasting with his words.
“Everythin
g’s fine, er, braew,” Laura said tersely. “We were running late, and both Henry and I hate being late for things, that’s all.”
Bessie nodded. “I know what you mean,” she said. “But you mustn’t worry here. None of us would complain if class had to start a few minutes late. Less time means less Manx to forget.”
Both Henry and Laura smiled at Bessie’s teasing, but neither looked as if they meant it. “I’m afraid I’ve already forgotten everything we’ve learned tonight,” Laura said. “I shall be taking all of the sheets we’ve been given home and studying them every night until next Tuesday.”
“If you want some extra practice, give me a ring,” Bessie suggested. “We can talk on the phone or even meet for tea or lunch and practice together.”
“I might take you up on that,” the woman replied.
Bessie had become friends with Laura in the weeks before Christmas as they’d both worked on Christmas at the Castle, a fundraising event held at Castle Rushen. Laura had confided in Bessie about her unhappy marriage and difficult divorce one day over lunch. The pair had met occasionally since for lunch or afternoon tea, but Laura’s erratic work schedule had made making plans difficult. As Bessie stood up to return to her seat, she resolved to work harder at finding time for the woman. It felt very much like Laura needed a friend at the moment.
“Let’s spend some time talking about food and drink,” Marjorie said when everyone was back in their seats.
Bessie took more notes as Marjorie took them through a short list of common foodstuffs. “Ooylyn, bainney, arran,” she muttered to herself. “Apples, milk, bread.”
“Let’s see how everyone’s doing,” Marjorie said. “Bessie, what’s the Manx word for cheese?”
Bessie glanced down at her notes before she spoke. “Caashey,” she said eventually.
“Now try without looking at your notes,” Marjorie suggested. “How do you say milk?”
“Bainney,” Bessie replied, delighted to be asked something that she actually knew.
“Feer vie,” Marjorie told her. She went around the room, quizzing each person in turn. Everyone did well, even if some people did have to peek at their notes before they replied.
“Henry, how do you say chips in Manx?” Marjorie asked.
“I’m sorry,” Henry said. “But I’m having trouble concentrating tonight. I simply don’t remember.”
Marjorie nodded. “Laura, do you remember how to say chips?”
Laura stared at the other woman for a minute and then looked down at the papers on the desk in front of her. “Spoollagghnn,” she said after a long pause.
“Spollagyn,” Marjorie gently corrected her pronunciation and then glanced at the clock. “I don’t want to try cramming too much into your heads on the first night,” she said. “So I think we’ll stop there. We still have twenty minutes of class time, though, so let’s have some more tea and biscuits and chat together in as much Manx as possible. Obviously, both Liz and I are happy to answer any questions that you might have.”
Bessie slid back her chair and put her pen down. “I don’t know why I’m so happy it’s over,” she whispered to Doona. “I really do enjoy the class, but it always feels overwhelming when I’m here.”
“I only come for the biscuits,” Doona replied.
Bessie laughed. “And the great company,” she suggested, waving a hand at the room that was full of their friends.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Doona shrugged. “But mostly for the biscuits.”
Liz and Marjorie quickly had tea ready again. Bessie nibbled her way through a digestive, leaving the custard creams for the others. Hugh had one before Grace whispered something in his ear and he switched to digestives as well. Doona ate two more custard creams and then moved to stand as far away from the plate as she could.
“If I try to get another biscuit, slap me,” she told Bessie.
“You know I won’t,” Bessie replied.
“Okay, if I try to get another biscuit, just step between me and the plate and refuse to move,” Doona amended her words. “Whatever you do, just don’t let me have another biscuit.”
“They are awfully moreish,” John said, helping himself to the one of the last remaining treats on the plate. “I never think to buy them for home, for some reason.”
“You’ll have to start thinking of it, if your children are coming to stay,” Bessie commented.
John nodded. “They’ll be here for the second half of July, all of August, and possibly some of September,” he said. “Sue and Harvey are getting married the first weekend in July, but they aren’t leaving for their honeymoon until the kids finish school for the year. I’ll have them for the entire summer break; it’s what happens in September that’s up in the air.”
John’s ex-wife, Sue, had never stopped loving Harvey, her first boyfriend, something that John didn’t know until after he and Sue were married. By the time she’d confessed that she was still in love with the man she hadn’t seen in years, she and John were already expecting a baby. The pair had tried to make their relationship work for fifteen years, in spite of Sue’s feelings, but when Sue’s mother fell ill and Harvey was the expert who came in to look after her, the marriage had fallen apart.
Now, only a short time after her divorce from John had been finalised, Sue and Harvey were getting married. Whatever else John felt about the situation, he was delighted that his two children were coming to stay with him while their mother and her new husband travelled to a developing country where Harvey’s medical training could make a real difference.
“Spending three months in Africa taking care of sick people doesn’t sound like much of a honeymoon,” Doona remarked.
“It wouldn’t be my idea of a good time,” John said. “But apparently Harvey is very keen and Sue is just happy that they’ll be together.”
“What do you mean about September?” Bessie asked.
“Sue and Harvey won’t be back until the end of the month,” he explained. “The kids will either have to go back to Manchester to stay with Sue’s mother and start the new school year there, or start school here. Neither solution is ideal. They don’t want to stay with their grandmother for an entire month, but being in school here for a month and then moving back to Manchester is a lot of upheaval for them. I wish Sue had…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
Bessie and Doona helped Marjorie and Liz clear up the tea and biscuits. They were just drying the last few teacups when James walked in.
“I’m meant to take care of all of that,” he said to Marjorie. “It comes with renting the space.”
“It wasn’t any trouble,” Marjorie assured him. “I don’t like to leave a mess behind me.”
“Well, thank you,” James replied. “There’s nothing left for me to do but lock the doors, then.”
Everyone took that as their cue and began to gather up their papers. Marjorie picked up her large box and nodded at Liz. “You get the doors. I have this.”
A chorus of goodbyes filled the air as everyone began to make their way out into the cool April air. Bessie stopped to have another quick word with James before she followed Doona and the others.
“Bessie?” someone whispered as she walked out of the building.
“Laura? What’s wrong?” Bessie replied, stopping and putting a hand on the woman’s arm.
“I just, that is, can I invite myself to your cottage for a cuppa tomorrow? I really need someone to talk to, and not in a public place,” the woman replied.
“Of course you can,” Bessie said quickly. “You can come back tonight, if you’d like.”
“I don’t, that is, I can’t, Henry is…” she stopped and took a deep breath. “Tomorrow will be fine,” she said. “I’ll be there around two.”
Bessie nodded and then watched as the woman walked away and then climbed into Henry’s car.
Chapter 2
Bessie’s internal alarm woke her at six the next morning, just as it nearly always did. After her shower, she sat and patted
on the rose-scented dusting powder that reminded her of Matthew Saunders, the man she had loved and lost. She let herself wonder, just for a moment, how different her life might have been if Matthew hadn’t died, but then she shook her head and frowned at her mirror image.
“There’s no point getting lost in the past,” she told her reflection sternly. “You can’t change it.”
A cup of tea and some toast with jam were her breakfast. Once she’d tidied up after herself, she pulled on a jacket and slipped on her shoes. A long walk on Laxey Beach had been part of her morning routine since she’d purchased her cottage on the beach when she was eighteen. Some days she walked further than others, but no matter what the weather, she tried to walk at least some distance every morning. If the weather was fine, she might take a second walk later in the day, but her early morning walks were her favourites.
Not far from her home stood a row of holiday cottages. The spring and summer holiday season on the island was generally held to start at Easter and the cottages had been full that weekend. Now, in the middle of a cool April week, there were only a few people staying in a couple of the cottages. Bessie noted which cottages were occupied as she walked. Even at their busiest, it was unusual for anyone to be on the beach as early as Bessie, but she liked to keep track of her nearest neighbours.
In the very last cottage, it seemed as if every light was switched on. Bessie slowed her steps and glanced inside, smiling to herself as she spotted Thomas and Maggie Shimmin at work in the cottage’s sitting room. The couple had built the cottages some years earlier, taking a chance that they could successfully run a holiday rental scheme on Laxey Beach. Thomas had quit his job in banking and they’d sold their home and moved into something smaller to help finance the venture. Bessie was pleased that thus far the cottages had been very successful for them, even if she did sometimes find the beach overcrowded during the busy summer weeks.
Bessie continued past the holiday cottages, pausing at the bottom of the steep steps that led to Thie yn Traie, a huge mansion that was perched on the cliff above the beach. Originally built as a summer home by the wealthy Pierce family from the UK, it had recently been purchased by George and Mary Quayle. George had made his fortune in sales, selling everything from cars to insurance. Bessie liked the large and boisterous man, but she found him somewhat overwhelming at times. His wife, Mary, was quiet and shy, and she and Bessie had become good friends in the last year.
Aunt Bessie Needs Page 2
