“This flat has the best views in the building,” Alan told her in a confiding tone. “This is the only one on this end of the building to have side windows. The foyer, the lift and the stairs are in the way of the others.”
“The flats at the other end of the building won’t look out on the sea from their side windows, will they?” Bessie asked. “Perhaps they should have put the lift and the stairs at that end.”
Alan shrugged. “Blame the architect,” he said. “Anyway, the kitchen is very modern.”
Bessie crossed to the small space that was fitted as the kitchen. The lack of cupboard space would have worried her if she were seriously considering moving, but otherwise the area was well laid-out, with all of the most modern equipment.
Alan opened the large “American-style” refrigerator. “Look at all the room you get in here,” he said enthusiastically. “I’d love one of these in my place.”
“It’s very nice,” Bessie replied. “As is the entire kitchen.”
“Yes, well, the bathroom has every modern touch as well,” he told her, leading her towards it. He turned on the light and then gestured for her to step inside.
Bessie noted the pedestal sink with a mixer tap and the large shower cubicle. “There’s no tub,” she said in surprise.
“People don’t waste time with long soaks in the tub anymore,” Alan told her. “Showers are quicker and more efficient.”
Bessie shook her head. “I quite like a bath now and then,” she said, even though she couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d bothered to take one.
“It’s just as well I’ve booked us in to see some other flats, then isn’t it?” he asked. “Some of the others will have bathtubs in them.”
Bessie opened her mouth to reply and then snapped it shut. She’d been stupid enough to get herself into this mess; she’d just have to keep going.
“Do you want to see the bedroom or does the lack of a tub make this flat a definite no?”
“Having come this far, I might as well see the bedroom,” Bessie said.
The room was pretty much as expected, what felt like endless acres of unremitting beige.
“Right, well, that’s that,” Alan said as he led Bessie back to the front door. “Tell me what you thought.”
“It’s nice,” Bessie said, her tone noncommittal. “I don’t know that it’s nice enough to tempt me away from my little cottage, though.”
The man nodded. He followed Bessie out of the flat and then locked it up behind them. They heard the sirens as they were waiting for the lift. After a moment, a fire alarm began to ring and doors began to open all along the corridor.
“What’s going on?” Alan demanded of the elderly man who emerged from apartment seven.
“Fire in the lift mechanism,” he replied morosely. “Happens all the time. You’ll have to take the stairs.”
Bessie and Alan followed the man down the stairs and out of the building. A large fire truck was parked outside and Bessie watched as two men emerged from it in full safety gear.
“I’ll get the keys back to Nigel later,” Alan muttered. “I’m sure he has his hands full at the moment.”
“No doubt,” Bessie replied. She spotted Howard and Bahey in the small crowd that was gathering in the hotel car park. She nodded a quick greeting, but decided not to try to speak to them.
“Right, then, if you want to just follow me in your car, we’ll head down a few blocks to the next place,” Alan announced brightly.
“I don’t drive,” Bessie told him. “I came in a taxi.”
“Oh, dear,” Alan said. “I suppose you’ll have to ride with me, then.”
“Or we could just call it a day,” Bessie suggested.
“Oh, no, I’m sure you’ll find something you like. I’ve three other flats lined up.”
Bessie shook her head and followed him to his car. Fortunately, he had parked just far enough away that the fire truck wasn’t blocking him in. Bessie stood by patiently as he cleared huge piles of paper and rubbish from the passenger seat and foot well.
“There you go,” he said finally. “I don’t usually have passengers, you see.”
“Clearly,” Bessie muttered as she slid into the car. The floor under her feet was sticky with something and the seatbelt didn’t seem to work properly. She gave it a firm tug, and that finally released it enough so that she could fasten it around herself. Alan climbed into the driver’s seat and gave her a grim smile.
“Here we go,” he said.
“What about the other empty flat in that building?” Bessie asked. “I understand it’s on the ground floor, so the lift wouldn’t be a concern.”
Alan shook his head. “There isn’t another empty flat, or rather there isn’t any other flat for sale. If someone owns one and chooses not to live in it, well, that’s their business and nothing to do with me, or you for that matter.”
“Why would someone buy a flat and not live in it?” Bessie asked, trying to keep her tone conversational.
“Perhaps they’ve bought it as an investment and intend to rent it out at some point. Or maybe they’re planning on living in it one day, but aren’t ready to move in yet. The possibilities are endless,” the man told her.
Bessie nodded, letting her mind race through another dozen possibilities while Alan drove. He drove only a short distance down the promenade, pulling up in front of a large building that had once been a hotel.
“They split this building into flats about three years ago,” he told Bessie. “The one that’s available is on the penthouse level.”
Bessie sighed and followed him out of the car. The lobby area was clean and looked as if it had just been redone. The man sitting behind the desk was wearing a neatly pressed uniform with “Security” embroidered on the front pocket. He’d buzzed them in and then asked Alan for identification before he turned over the keys to the unit.
“There are postboxes in a separate room,” Alan told Bessie, gesturing vaguely towards the back of the building. “We don’t really need to see them, unless you really want to.”
“I suppose, having seen one postbox, I can imagine what all others look like,” Bessie told him.
“Right, then, the lifts are through here.” He led her across the lobby and into a short corridor. The two lifts were both open and empty.
“The old kitchens are back that way,” Alan said, pointing further down the corridor. “There’s a chef who comes in five nights a week and prepares meals for the residents who request them.”
“Is it a building for pensioners, then?” Bessie asked.
“There aren’t any age restrictions, but I believe the vast majority of the residents are retired and enjoy things like grocery delivery and prepared meals.”
“Do they have those amenities at Seaview Terrace?” Bessie asked as they rode the lift up to the sixth floor.
“There’s grocery delivery and there’s a doctor’s surgery right next door. I understand the surgery specialises in, um, senior concerns.”
Bessie nodded. Bahey had told her as much. Bahey herself didn’t choose to use the neighbourhood surgery. Out of a sense of nostalgia, she’d gone back to the doctors in Laxey that she’d used as a child. None of the same staff were there, but they were still in the same building, and she’d told Bessie that it reminded her of her youth.
On the top floor, Bessie followed Alan down a short corridor. He stopped and unlocked the door to the last flat on the left and motioned Bessie inside. The flat was much larger than the one on Seaview Terrace, with a sleek and modern kitchen, three bedrooms and two bathrooms, one of which was en-suite to the spacious master bedroom.
“It’s lovely,” Bessie told Alan honestly. “But it’s far more space than I need and I’m sure it’s out of my budget anyway.”
Alan told Bessie the price and she laughed. “Definitely out of my budget,” she said.
“Well, the next flat on our list is less expensive,” Alan told her. “Let’s see what you think of it.�
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Bessie followed the man back down through the building and reluctantly climbed back into his car. “You know, I really need to think about things,” she said. “I’m not sure I’m ready to move to Douglas. I’ve lived in Laxey for a very long time.”
“Yes, well, at least this way you’ll have a good idea of what’s available, should you decide to relocate,” Alan replied.
Unable to argue with the logic in that, Bessie sat back and waited to see where they were going next. Alan drove slowly along the promenade and then headed away from the water.
“The next place is in Onchan,” he told Bessie. “It’s a little further from the sea and downtown, but that makes it much more reasonably priced.”
“How reasonably priced?” Bessie asked.
The figure he gave her was about halfway between the two flats she’d already seen.
“It’s bigger than Seaview Terrace,” Alan continued. “But not as large as the one on the promenade itself.”
“I’m not sure about the location,” Bessie said doubtfully, as Alan pulled into the building’s car park. They were some distance from the Douglas city centre. “I’m not sure this would be terribly convenient for me, as I don’t drive.”
“This is a senior living development,” Alan told her. “They run shuttles into town and to the grocery store every day. They also have grocery delivery and a full medical suite in the administration building at the back.”
Bessie looked around at the cluster of buildings. There were three of them, although only two looked like apartment buildings. Those two buildings were each three stories high and had been built on the hillside overlooking the sea. Behind them was a smaller and shorter building that Bessie now assumed was the administration building.
“All of the postboxes for the complex are in the administration building as well,” Alan told her. “And there’s a hairdressers, a dental surgery and a convenience store.”
“I’d never have to leave the site,” Bessie mumbled to herself.
“Exactly,” Alan said happily. “This place has everything you need, all in one place.”
“Oh, goody,” Bessie said, this time making sure that Alan didn’t hear her.
“If you want to just wait here,” he said now, “I’ll run over and get the keys.”
Bessie thought about arguing, but she had no interest in seeing the administration building, and it was a lovely day for a short stroll. “You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll just walk around the front of the buildings and enjoy the view.”
The view was spectacular, Bessie admitted to herself as she came around the corner of the apartment block. From this spot, high above the sea, with nothing to interrupt them, the views seemed endless. Bessie watched as an electric train slid into the station below her. For a brief moment she was tempted by the view to think seriously about a move.
“Ah, there you are,” Alan said. “I was afraid you’d wandered off.”
Bessie swallowed a sigh and turned to follow him into the nearest building.
“The flat that’s for sale in on the ground floor. This is it.” The man stopped at a door only a few steps inside the building and turned the key. Bessie stepped inside and frowned.
“There’s no view,” she said.
“Well, no, or rather, this flat has land views rather than sea views.”
Bessie laughed out loud. “No offense to the lovely town of Onchan, but I’m not moving out here to be able to look at it all day and night.”
She moved through the flat quickly, noting the modern appliances in the kitchen and the boringly neutral décor. There was nothing especially attractive about the place and the views were primarily of the short and squat administration building and the massive housing estate behind it.
“I’m afraid this one is out of the question,” Bessie told Alan as she rejoined him near the front door. He’d been flipping through paperwork while she’d taken herself around the flat; now he frowned at her.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I’m afraid our last showing of the day has had to be cancelled. Apparently, the flat sold on Friday, so I guess that’s all I can show you today.”
“That’s fine,” Bessie assured him. “I’ll go home and have another look at the particulars you sent me and have a good think. I’ll be in touch if I need more information.”
“I’ll give you a ride home,” he told her. “I can have a quick look at your cottage and give you a rough idea of what it’s worth, if you’d like.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Bessie replied. “If I decide I want to move, we can worry about it then.”
The man smiled tightly. “Let’s go, then,” he said, leading Bessie back to his car. She fought the seatbelt into position and then gave the man directions to her cottage. It was quickly obvious that he’d never been to Laxey before.
“How long have you been on the island?” she asked.
“Just a few weeks,” he said, as he slowed down for a curve. “I’m still learning my way around.”
“What brought you here?” Bessie figured he’d asked enough nosy questions about her; it was only fair she asked a few of her own.
“Grant Robertson offered me the job of running his new estate agency. I’d done some work for him in my previous position and he was, well, happy with my performance.”
“What made him decide to open an estate agency?” Bessie asked.
“I can only tell you what he told me,” he replied. “He said there are a lot of people moving across at the moment and the three agencies already on the island have had a virtual monopoly for years. He wanted a chance to cash in on the sudden rush of new arrivals.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Bessie said thoughtfully. “But I’m surprised he didn’t hire a local person to run the agency, just to take advantage of local knowledge.”
“I’m a quick learner,” the man replied, smugly.
Bessie repeated the directions she’d given him as they approached Laxey. He missed the turning for her road and she had to take him around a few back roads until they could join back up with the steep incline that took her home. Alan was looking a bit pale when he pulled into the parking area beside Bessie’s cottage.
“That’s some hill,” he said, sounding anxious. “I’m just glad we didn’t meet anyone trying to come up it.”
Bessie laughed. “There are passing places,” she told him. “You just have to be quite careful.”
“Rather.”
Bessie climbed out of the car and headed towards her door. Alan was quick to follow.
“Your views are incredible,” he said, as he surveyed the quiet beach.
“They are,” Bessie agreed. “You can see why I’m reluctant to move.”
“I don’t suppose I can bother you for a cup of tea?” he asked. “I’d love to see the inside of the cottage and I’m quite parched as well.”
“Certainly,” Bessie said politely. She wanted to refuse, but couldn’t possibly be that deliberately rude.
She opened her door and escorted the man into her small kitchen. “Have a seat,” she told him, gesturing towards the small table in the corner.
He crossed to it and sat down while Bessie filled the kettle. After she switched it on, she busied herself putting biscuits on a plate and slowly getting the tea things ready. The kettle boiled while she was still busy filling time. She poured the hot water into her teapot and set it on the table.
Alan waited politely for her sit down and pour tea for them both. Then he gave her a smile.
“So, how serious are you about moving?” he asked. “I mean, I look around this kitchen and I can see why something modern would be tempting, but then I look out at your view and I wonder if I’ve wasted my morning.”
Bessie forced herself to smile back. “Exactly,” she said. “There are sound reasons for moving and for staying here. I’m going to take a good look at the details on each place and have a good think. I’ll probably chat to a few friends as well, to get their tho
ughts. I may well surprise us both.”
Alan nodded and sipped his tea. “Well, today has been interesting,” he said. “To be honest, the only flat I can actually see you being interested in is the one on the promenade. Seaview Terrace was too small and the views were obstructed, and the flat in Onchan was facing the wrong way.”
“As I said, I’m going to give all my options very serious thought,” Bessie replied noncommittally.
“Before you make any final decisions, there are several other flats that I can show you,” he said. “Maybe you’d like to look at a few on Wednesday or Thursday? I can set up a few more places now that we’ve met and I have a better idea of what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you, but for now I’d just like to consider what I’ve already seen,” Bessie told him. “I’ll be in touch if I need anything.”
Alan nodded. “I’ll ring you in a few days, then, just to touch base.”
Bessie decided not to argue. She rarely answered her phone, preferring to let the machine pick up and letting the caller leave a message that she could return or not as she chose. Chances of her returning calls from Alan Collins were slim.
“Thank you for the tea,” he said now, as he stood up to go. Bessie watched as his eyes darted around the room. He was clearly eager to see the rest of the cottage, but she wasn’t about to offer to show him. “Are you sure you don’t want a quick valuation on this property?” he asked.
“I’m quite sure,” Bessie said, meanly smiling to herself as she saw the disappointment in his eyes.
Bessie showed him out and shut the door behind him. She leaned against it, counting slowly to a hundred before pulling it open slowly. His car was gone and Bessie sighed with relief. She hated lying and subterfuge and the morning had been a strain for that reason as much as for the difficulty of spending so much time with a man she disliked.
She sat back down at her table and poured herself another cup of tea. Her mind was racing as she ran back through her morning. The phone took her by surprise and she stared at it while the machine picked up.
“Bessie? It’s Bahey. I hate machines. Ring me back, please.”
Bahey hung up before Bessie managed to pick up the call. Bessie quickly dialled her friend’s number.
Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 7
