The dining table and chairs quickly joined the rest of the choices on the truck.
“Is that it?” Bessie asked, feeling as if they’d been there for many hours.
“What about kitchen things?” Mary asked. “I have boxes and boxes full of plates and glasses and flatware. You’re welcome to whatever you’d like.”
“I was simply planning on taking my everyday plates and glasses and whatnot,” Bessie replied. “They’ll only fill a couple of boxes.”
“I suppose,” Mary said. “Although I do have a set of plates that I’d love to lend to you. I’d consider it an enormous favour if you could manage to break every single plate, cup and saucer in the set.”
Bessie laughed. “Let me guess, you inherited them from your mother-in-law.”
“Exactly,” Mary laughed. “And they’re absolutely ghastly.”
“Then I definitely don’t want them,” Bessie said firmly.
Mary sighed. “Oh, well, I tried.”
With the last of the furniture loaded up into the moving truck, Bessie and Mary climbed back into Mary’s car.
“We can follow them into Douglas and make sure they put everything in the right place,” Mary suggested. “And then I’ll buy you dinner to celebrate.”
“I think I should buy you dinner,” Bessie objected. “I can’t imagine how much it would have cost to purchase all of that furniture. And the pieces you’re lending me are so much nicer than what I would have bought, as well.”
“It’s nothing,” Mary said, waving a hand. “I’m glad to help, really I am.”
Even though Bessie knew that Mary was sincere, she still felt a bit guilty. “At least let me buy dinner,” she repeated herself.
“If you insist,” Mary said with a laugh. “Maybe I’ll have someone drive us and then we can have a bottle of wine or two as well.”
“That sounds perfect,” Bessie told her friend.
The moving van pulled away and Mary followed them. They drove back across the island to Ramsey and then headed across the mountain road into Douglas.
“I never get tired of the scenery,” Mary told Bessie as they turned the last corner on the mountain road and Douglas lay before them.
“Me either,” Bessie replied. “I don’t come over the mountain all that often, but whenever I do, I try to memorise the views.”
Mary laughed. “I do that,” she said. “But they’re ever so much more spectacular in real life than in my memory.”
“Especially when the sun is shining,” Bessie added.
The two movers had made better time than Mary and they were already unloading the furniture when Mary and Bessie arrived at Seaview Terrace. Mary pulled into the building’s small car park and she and Bessie made their way inside through a door that was again propped open, presumably this time by the movers.
“Ah, Mrs. Quayle, what a pleasant surprise.” The building manager jumped up from his seat and rushed towards them. Bessie took a step backwards as the man approached.
Mary smiled tightly. “Mr. Green, how nice to see you again. You’ve met Bessie Cubbon, haven’t you?”
“Oh, aye, well, just a bit, when she came to look around, you see,” he said, thrusting his not entirely clean hand at Bessie. Bessie shook it reluctantly.
“I didn’t know she was a friend of yours, though, or I’d have made sure she got the VIP treatment, you know?” he continued.
“I should have thought all potential purchasers would get the VIP treatment,” Mary said coolly. “Regardless of who they know.”
“Well, yeah,” the man said quickly, his face flushing. “I mean, well, what I meant was, I’d have given your friend the extra special VIP treatment, like.”
Mary nodded. “Well, I expect nothing less while she’s staying here,” she told the man. “I assume you’ve given the movers the keys to the flat?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“We’ll just go up and see how they’re getting on, then.” Mary turned and walked down the short corridor to the lift, with Bessie on her heels.
Inside the lift, Mary blew out a long breath. “What a disagreeable little man,” she said. “I’m sure I don’t know why Grant hired him.”
“He seemed eager to please,” Bessie replied.
“Because of who I am,” Mary said, “or rather, who I’m married to. I think you’ll get treated well because of your connection to George. I’d love to hear how he treats the other residents, though.”
“I’ll let you know,” Bessie promised.
The lift was slow, but seemed to be working properly. The door to number ten was open and Bessie could hear the movers inside the flat. She peeked inside and smiled. The movers had already arranged all of the furniture in the large main room, and thanks to the new coat of paint that was a slightly less boring shade of beige, and the gorgeous furniture, the flat looked comfortable and cosy.
“Oh, Bessie, it’s adorable,” Mary said with a smile.
“It does look rather charming,” Bessie agreed. She peeked into the bedroom, where the movers were assembling the bedframe. “I think I’ll be quite comfortable here, really.”
“I do hope so,” Mary said. “I’m actually feeling a bit jealous. Maybe I need a little flat of my own where I can get away from everyone.”
“Surely, in a house as large as yours, you have lots of places you can go to get away?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Mary asked with a wry grin. “But George always finds me, or one of the staff does. Someone always needs something. A flat of my own would be ideal.”
“If I decide I don’t like it, you should buy it,” Bessie suggested, only half-joking.
Mary looked thoughtful for a moment and then laughed. “What a silly idea,” she said.
“So, you’re the new neighbour, then?” a voice came from behind the women. Bessie turned around and smiled brightly at the man in the doorway.
“I’m Elizabeth Cubbon,” she said, walking towards him. “Everyone calls me Bessie.”
“Hi, Bessie,” he said with a wink. “I’m Bertie Ayers. I’m right across the hall.”
Bessie offered her hand and studied the man while he shook it. He was just about her height, although she imagined he had been taller in his youth. He had a few stray grey hairs sticking out in all directions on his head, but not enough to trouble anyone. His brown eyes were all but hidden behind thick glasses that had a hearing aid attached on each side. While his clothes didn’t look expensive, they were clean and had obviously been ironed as well.
“I’m a bachelor,” Bertie announced. “I’m going to be seventy-three in a few months and I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”
Bessie laughed. “I’ve never married, either, my age is none of your business and I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
Bertie laughed until he began to wheeze. “Sorry,” he said when he’d caught his breath. “I was a smoker back when we didn’t know any better. Anyway, it’s a real pleasure to meet you, Bessie. I like a woman who tells it like it is. Are you moving in today, then?”
“No, probably not for a few days,” Bessie replied. “I’m having a housewarming on Saturday afternoon, though, so make sure you plan to stop in.”
“There’s nothing on the telly on a Saturday afternoon,” Bertie said. “So I’ll probably be able to make it.”
“What are the other neighbours like?” Bessie asked. “I do know Bahey in number eleven and Howard in number twelve.”
“I like Bahey a lot,” the man confided. “If Howard hadn’t seen her first, I might have had to change my mind about the girlfriend thing.”
“Does that mean you don’t like Howard?” Bessie had to ask.
“Oh, no, he’s an okay chap,” Bertie said. “I’ve no complaints against him. That just leaves Ruth and Muriel on this floor. They’re both okay, too.”
“Just okay?” Bessie pressed him.
“They both seem to think I need a girlfriend,” Bertie said. He leaned in towards Bessie. “
If I do, it wouldn’t be either of them,” he whispered. “But you’ll get to meet them all soon enough, I reckon. They’ll both be over to check out the competition.”
“Competition? For what?” Bessie asked.
Bertie laughed. “Well, Howard’s pretty well taken, I guess, but I’m single and so is Simon, although I suspect he might be more interested in me than you, if you catch my drift.”
Bessie nodded.
“Anyway, the big prize at the moment seems to be our friend Mr. Green. All the ladies in the building seem to be chasing after him.”
“Mr. Green? The building manager?” Bessie asked, stunned.
“Yeah, that’s the bloke. And don’t ask me what they see in him, I’m just telling you what I’ve seen. Anyway, I have to go. It’s time for my next programme.”
He was gone before Bessie could press him for more information. She turned to Mary. “Why on earth would anyone chase after the building manager?” she asked.
“I’ve no idea,” Mary replied with a shrug. “Maybe our Mr. Ayers is just a touch confused.”
“Maybe,” Bessie replied, thoughtfully.
The movers soon had the bedroom finished and Bessie was delighted with the end result. The small room felt almost as cosy as her bedroom at home.
“I’ll need a mattress, of course, and bedding,” Bessie said.
“Oh, I have….” Mary began, but Bessie held up a hand.
“You’ve already done far too much,” Bessie said firmly. “I’ll buy a mattress and bedding and whatever else I need.”
Mary opened her mouth to object, but Bessie gave her a stern look. “Okay,” Mary said. “Would you like to go shopping for those things now?”
Bessie glanced at her watch. They had just about enough time to pick up a few things before dinner. “If you have the time,” she said, hesitantly.
“Of course I do,” Mary told her.
Half an hour later, at a small shop nearby, Bessie had everything she needed picked out and paid for.
“We’ll get it all delivered tomorrow,” the shop assistant promised as Bessie handed over her credit card.
“Well, I’d call that a good day’s work,” Mary said as the pair headed back to Mary’s car. “Let’s stop at my house and see if we can get someone to drive us to dinner.”
“Perfect,” Bessie said with a satisfied smile. Her little flat was now furnished and almost ready for her and she was really starting to look forward to moving in.
Bessie caught her breath as Mary turned up the drive to her mansion. No matter how many times Bessie saw the place, she was always surprised by the sheer size of it. Now she tried to see it through Mary’s eyes, as home, but it simply wasn’t possible. There was nothing about the sprawling mansion that seemed “homely” to Bessie.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Mary told Bessie as she led her into the enormous foyer of her home. “Do you want to wait in the library?”
“I’d love to,” Bessie replied. The library was the only part of the house that made Bessie feel the tiniest bit jealous. The large room had bookshelves from floor to ceiling on three walls. The fourth wall was nearly all windows, so that if you looked up from your book you could spend some time admiring the incredible sea views. Bessie sank down into one of the comfortable leather chairs that were dotted around the room. The tables on either side of it had neat piles of books on them, and Bessie happily amused herself by flipping through them, reading back covers and scanning first pages.
“Ah, Bessie, Mary told me you were in here,” George’s voice boomed from the doorway. “I thought I ought to entertain you while you wait for her to get ready.”
Bessie bit back a sigh. The last thing she needed in a library like this was anyone to “entertain” her. “Hello, George,” she said politely. “Thank you so much for arranging the Seaview Terrace rental for me. I’m looking forward to the change of scenery.”
“Ah, yes, well, it wasn’t any problem at all,” George replied. “It’s just sitting there empty, after all.”
“Well, I’m very grateful,” Bessie said.
“I do hope you’re joining us on Friday?” George changed the subject abruptly. “Grant is looking forward to having a chance to get to know you a bit better.”
“I am planning on coming,” Bessie said. “And I’d love the chance to thank Mr. Robertson as well.”
George nodded. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you then,” he said, looking as if his mind was elsewhere. “What are you and Mary doing tonight, then?”
“I’m taking her to dinner to thank her for loaning me some furniture for the flat,” Bessie explained.
“Oh, are you making use of some of our things?” George asked. “That’s good of you. And I’m ever so glad you and Mary are friends. She needs more friends.”
“I do hope you weren’t planning on having dinner with her yourself,” Bessie said, feeling awkward. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to join us, of course.”
George shook his head. “Oh, no, I’m having dinner with Grant. We have a lot of business to discuss. No, if my dear wife were staying at home tonight she’d be having a quiet dinner on her own. I’m afraid I often have dinner meetings.”
“Mary said you had lunch with Mack Dickson the day of his talk,” Bessie said, hoping she didn’t sound too interested in George’s reply. Having heard the Mack was blackmailing the man, she was very curious as to what he’d say.
George narrowed his eyes. “Did I?” he asked. Bessie fancied he sounded nervous. “Oh, yes, well, Grant and I did, I think.” He cleared his throat. “I’d quite forgotten about that afternoon. Well, not what happened later, of course, but the luncheon, I’d quite forgotten about that.”
“I hope you had an interesting conversation with him,” Bessie remarked.
“Oh, yes, it was quite interesting,” George replied. “If I remember correctly, Mack was advising a young man at some university who was working on a history of banking. He wanted to find out about the early days of the Manx National Bank and Mack was hoping to get him an interview with Grant.”
“Oh dear, I hope Mack’s death didn’t upset the young man’s plans.”
George shook his head. “I’ve no idea if Grant ever followed through or not. I should ask him later.”
“Ah, Bessie, I do hope my husband hasn’t spoiled your enjoyment of the library,” Mary said as she walked into the room.
Bessie smiled at her. “We’re having a lovely visit,” she told her friend with a wink.
Mary laughed and gave George an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I told you to just let Bessie enjoy the books,” she chided him gently.
“But I wanted to say hello,” George protested. “And I didn’t want her to get bored.”
Mary laughed again, but shook her head. “Of course, dear,” she said gently. “Are you ready for some dinner, then?” she asked as she turned to Bessie.
“I’m afraid I’m underdressed,” Bessie replied.
Mary had changed into a lightweight summer suit in a soft pastel pink. Mary’s shoes and handbag matched exactly and Bessie guessed that the outfit probably cost more than she spent on clothes in a year.
“You look lovely,” Mary said with a wave of her hand. “I’m just using tonight as an excuse to fuss a little bit. I rarely go out in the evening.”
Bessie stood up and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her shirt. “Maybe I should at least run a brush through my hair,” she suggested.
“Only if you want to,” Mary said. She showed Bessie to a loo across the hall.
Bessie shut the door and stood still in the middle of the room for a moment. The loo was larger than Bessie’s sitting room and Bessie couldn’t help but wonder why it needed to be so large. She dug around in her handbag, pulling out a comb and a lipstick. She did the best she could with her appearance, feeling somewhat intimidated by the enormous and ornate mirror that reflected her image. After another attempt to mitigate a few of the wrinkles in her outfit, Bessie gave up an
d rejoined her friend.
“I look a mess next to you,” she remarked as she followed Mary back towards the front door.
“I look stiff and stuffy next to you,” Mary countered. “Let’s just go and have fun and not worry about it.”
Bessie laughed. “You are a very wise woman,” she told her friend.
“Where should we go?” Mary asked as the two women settled into the back of one of Mary’s luxury cars.
Bessie named one of her favourite Douglas restaurants.
“Oh, that’s rather expensive,” Mary said. “Are you sure I can’t treat?”
“I’m very sure,” Bessie said firmly. “Tonight is my treat, and you can choose the restaurant, if you don’t like my suggestion.”
“Oh, I’m happy anywhere,” Mary assured her. She leaned forward and told the driver their destination. The car moved quickly and quietly through the streets of Douglas.
“I’ll ring you when we’re ready to be collected,” Mary told the driver as he helped them from the car.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, nodding at Bessie before he climbed back behind the wheel.
Inside the restaurant, the host was quick to find them a quiet table.
“Ah, Mrs. Quayle, what an enormous pleasure and surprise it is to see you,” he said, fawningly.
Within moments their waiter was ready to take their drinks order and Mary was quick to order a bottle of wine.
“I never get service like this,” Bessie whispered to her as the waiter rushed away to get the wine.
“I always do,” Mary said with a sigh. “It’s quite tiresome.”
Bessie laughed. “It seems quite delightful,” she disagreed.
Mary shrugged. Before she could reply, the waiter was back with the wine. Once he’d poured them each a glass, he recited the specials.
“We’ll need a moment with the menu,” Bessie said.
“Just wave when you’re ready,” he replied.
After a quick discussion of the specials, the two women made their selections. Bessie set her menu down and looked around. Their waiter rushed over before she’d even managed to catch his eye. Once the food was ordered, Bessie turned to Mary and shook her head.
Aunt Bessie Finds Page 13
