Aunt Bessie Likes

by Diana Xarissa

  “I am sorry,” Bessie said.

  “We’ve been hoping all these years that she’d turn up safe and sound,” the man said. “We’d been hoping maybe she’d found someone nice and settled down. We never wanted the phone call we got yesterday.”

  Bessie shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”

  “Do you have children?” the woman asked.

  “No, I don’t,” Bessie replied.

  “There’s no one in the world that can make you angrier,” the woman told her. “Jessica was brought up well, but she decided she knew more than we did, and I’ll admit it, I was angry with her. But that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving her or wanting her back.”

  The woman’s eyes filled with tears and she turned away from Bessie to stare at the sea.

  “We’re having trouble accepting what we’ve heard,” the man told Bessie. “We didn’t know she’d ever left Liverpool, and we never imagined that she’d come over here. We’ve never been to the island before ourselves.”

  “It really is a lovely place,” Bessie said. “But I understand you might not see it that way.”

  “I want to,” the man told her. “We came down here to see the sea and the beach. I want to believe that Jessica saw this before, well, before whatever happened to her. I want to picture her sitting on this beach with friends, enjoying life.”

  “It’s a very busy beach in the summer months,” Bessie said.

  “She disappeared in June,” the man told her. “The tenth of June, nineteen seventy-one.”

  “The police can’t tell us when she died,” the woman interjected. “There isn’t anything left but bones. They don’t know when she died, and they don’t know how she died. I’d almost rather they hadn’t found her. We have an answer to one question and now we have a thousand more questions.”

  “I’m very sorry,” Bessie said, not knowing what else to say.

  “She might have been here,” the man said. “She might have stood right on this spot. She might even have spoken to you.”

  “I speak to many people in the summer months every year,” Bessie said.

  The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it to an old photo that had clearly been in the wallet for many years. “This is Jessica,” he said softly. “I know you won’t recognise her, but I wanted you to see her.”

  Bessie studied the photo. The girl had been blonde and blandly pretty. Another glance at her parents had Bessie marveling at genetics. Neither of them looked anything like the girl.

  “Her mother looked just the same when she was a teenager,” the man said, gesturing towards the woman. “I fell in love with her when she was just sixteen, but her parents wouldn’t let us see each other until she was finished with school.”

  “Except we just lied and snuck around behind their backs,” the woman said. “Jessica always loved hearing stories about our unconventional courtship. When she first ran away, we assumed she was trying to recreate our story with her own disreputable boyfriend, or something like that. We never imagined…”

  “He always insisted that he didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance,” the man said. “He told us that they’d had a fight and she’d started seeing someone else. Maybe he was telling the truth.”

  “She was lovely,” Bessie said.

  “She was,” the man agreed. “We never had any more after her, although we never knew why. It just never happened, I suppose. I didn’t mind. Jessica was enough of a handful.”

  “She was at that,” the woman agreed. “And she was so sure of herself. She thought she knew everything and that her father and I were stuck in the past. We should have warned her more about the dangerous things in life, I suppose. We were afraid she might get herself into trouble and end up on her own with a baby to look after. We never thought she’d end up far from home like this.”

  “I hope the police can find more answers for you,” Bessie said.

  “I don’t know if I want to know more,” the man replied. “I’d like to think that she was happy here and then, maybe, I don’t know, slipped and fell and hit her head and died in a tragic accident. Maybe the people she was with didn’t know what to do, so they hid the body. That’s possible, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is,” Bessie said soothingly.

  “Stanley, we should stop bothering this poor woman,” the woman said suddenly. “I’m sure she has things to do.”

  “I hope you can find some things to like about the island,” Bessie said. “In spite of the tragedy that brought you here.”

  “Everyone has been very kind,” the man told her. “The police have been especially good to us. We met the nicest inspector who spent hours talking with us.”

  “Inspector Rockwell?” Bessie asked.

  “No, that wasn’t it,” he replied. “What was her name?” he asked the woman.

  “Anna something,” the woman replied. “She told me that she’d lost her own daughter a long time ago, so she understood our loss. She couldn’t have been any nicer to us.”

  “Anna Lambert?” Bessie said, knowing she sounded shocked.

  “Yes, that was it,” the man said. “And you’ve been very kind as well. Thank you for talking with us. I think we’re both a little crazy at the moment.”

  “Again, I’m very sorry for your loss,” Bessie said.

  She walked away from the couple, back towards her cottage. As she reached it, she turned around and saw that they were both silently staring at the sea. Bessie let herself into the cottage and poured herself a cup of coffee. When she looked back down the beach a few minutes later, the couple was gone. She sat at her kitchen table, her mind turning over what she’d learned about poor Jessica, but more so the surprising revelation about Anna Lambert.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The longer Bessie sat in her kitchen, the more she wanted to talk to John Rockwell. He’d told her he would ring her later, but she decided she didn’t want to wait.

  “Ah, Bessie, John’s not in at the moment,” Doona told her when Bessie rang the station. “I can have him ring you back.”

  “Is Hugh in?” Bessie asked. “I’d like a word with him anyway.”

  “He is,” Doona replied. “He’s working on a pile of paperwork and I’m sure he’d love to be interrupted.”

  Bessie laughed and waited while Doona connected the call.

  “Bessie? What can I do for you?” Hugh’s voice came down the line a moment later.

  “Two things,” Bessie told him. “First, I met a couple on the beach this morning and I wanted to tell someone involved in the investigation about it.”

  “Go ahead,” Hugh told her.

  Bessie told him everything she could remember about her encounter on the beach. Hugh was silent throughout. When she finished, he cleared his throat before he spoke.

  “Yes, I met them when they came to the station,” he said. “They, um, they told me they were quite grateful that I’d found their daughter, even under the circumstances. They seemed like very nice people. I was quite relieved when Inspector Lambert stepped in and took them to her office. You wouldn’t think it, but she can be quite good with crying mothers.”

  Bessie had told Hugh that the couple had mentioned the inspector, but she hadn’t told him exactly what was said. She simply didn’t feel that it was her place to share such a personal piece of information with anyone. “You’re right, I wouldn’t think it,” Bessie said.

  “Anyway, they were here for about an hour, talking with me and then with the inspector. John is back out at the Grantham farm. It looks as if they might have found another body, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “How dreadful,” Bessie said. “And we still don’t know the identities of the others yet.”

  “We’re hoping the DNA results will start coming in soon. I’d really like some answers before the wedding. I know we’re only honeymooning in Ramsey, but I’d rather not have any contact with the office while we’re there. I’m not sure I can wait u
ntil I’m back to hear what the DNA results show, though.”

  “You will go on your honeymoon and focus on your wife,” Bessie said firmly. “You can find out about the DNA when you get back.”

  “I’m sure it will all be in the local papers, anyway,” Hugh said. “We won’t be able to avoid those.”

  You will in Paris, Bessie thought. “Yes, well, I hope you don’t find time to look at newspapers,” she said instead. “This will be a very special week for you and Grace. You must make sure to put her first.”

  “I know. Because once we’re back, the job will get in the way of everything for the rest of our lives,” Hugh said. “John has already talked to me and Grace about that, at length. I know his marriage didn’t work out, so I’m grateful for his advice.”

  “His wife wasn’t suited to being married to a policeman,” Bessie said. “I hope Grace will do a better job of it.”

  “Me, too,” Hugh said with alacrity.

  “I’m sure you have a lot to do; I shouldn’t keep you.”

  “You said there were two things,” Hugh reminded her.

  “Oh, the other one was simple,” Bessie replied. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, with the wedding only a week away. It sounds as if you’re ready, though.”

  “I’m really ready for it to be over,” Hugh said fervently. “All this planning and fuss is starting to make me crazy. I’m so glad we agreed to have a short engagement. How some people spend a year or more planning a wedding is beyond me. It’s only one day, as well. I can’t imagine going into debt and all that for just one day. Grace and I have our whole lives ahead of us, after all.”

  “And you’re both very sensible,” Bessie said. “The day will be special because you’ll be surrounded by people who love you, but even more importantly, at the end of it you’ll be married to the woman you love. Everything else is just window dressing.”

  “I’m not sure Grace’s mum sees it that way,” Hugh said with a sigh. “She’s been making Grace crazy worrying about the flowers for some reason. Grace told them that she’s happy with whatever is affordable, but her mum seems to think that Grace has to have roses and some other thingy I can’t even pronounce. Grace is nearly pulling her hair out, which is another problem, actually. Her mum wants her to have her hair done up all fancy and Grace was just going to wear it down. I suppose I should be grateful that all I have to do is turn up looking presentable.”

  Bessie laughed. “I think a lot of weddings end up being more about what the mother of the bride wants than the bride,” she said. “But it is a special day for her as well. Her baby girl is getting married, after all.”

  “Yes, I know,” Hugh sighed. “And Grace keeps reminding me of that whenever I forget.”

  “Only a few more days,” Bessie said soothingly. “And then it will be all over and you and Grace can relax and enjoy some time alone.”

  “If I can get all my paperwork done,” Hugh said. “Inspector Lambert wants a dozen different reports written before I go, including everything to do with the Kelly investigation, so that the investigation can carry on while I’m gone. I know she’s right, but I’m not very good at writing reports and I’m terrible at typing. If I’m late for the wedding, it will be because I’m still working on getting them all done.”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage,” Bessie said. “But I’m not helping, chatting away, am I? You get back to work. Can you put me back through to Doona?”

  “Sure,” Hugh said. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Sunday, if not before,” Bessie said.

  “What else can I do for you?” Doona asked when Bessie was reconnected to her.

  “I just realised that we’ve booked Hugh’s honeymoon in Paris but haven’t cancelled his booking in Ramsey,” Bessie said. “I don’t want to ring and cancel. It’s really the sort of thing that should be done in person.”

  “I can run you over there during my lunch break, if you’d like,” Doona said. “I’m looking for an excuse to get out of the office and I could do with a quick trip to Ramsey. I need a new toaster.”

  “If you’re sure you can spare the time,” Bessie said.

  “I have a long lunch today,” Doona replied. “The schedules are all over the place at the moment because there’s so much going on.”

  Doona arranged to collect Bessie only a short time later. Knowing that Doona was missing her lunch for the trip, Bessie quickly put together a selection of sandwiches for the journey. While she would have preferred something hot to drink, she added some cans of fizzy drink to the small bag she’d packed with the sandwiches. Cans would be easier to manage on their way to Ramsey.

  Doona was right on time and Bessie was quick to climb into the car’s passenger seat. I brought sandwiches,” she said to Doona, “and cold drinks. I didn’t want you to miss lunch.”

  “What a wonderful idea,” Doona said. “I was trying to work out how I was going to grab something later.”

  Ramsey wasn’t far away, so there was no time for conversation as they ate their impromptu lunch. Doona pulled up in front of the Seaview as Bessie was wiping crumbs from her mouth.

  “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so,” Doona told Bessie. “I’ll look for you in the lobby.”

  Bessie nodded and climbed out of the car. As she crossed to the large sliding doors at the front of the glorious old hotel, she suddenly thought that she should have rung first. The manager might well be having his own lunch at the moment.

  She needn’t have worried, though. The young man behind the reception desk rang someone, and only a moment later a door opened at the back of the room.

  “Elizabeth Cubbon, this is a pleasant surprise,” the man who rushed through the doors said in a booming voice. He was a short and plump man in his forties. Immaculately dressed, his dark hair was beautiful styled and his eyes sparkled as he greeted Bessie.

  “Jasper Coventry,” she replied. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

  The man grinned and then offered Bessie his arm. She took it and let him lead her through the hotel’s grand foyer and through a door marked “staff only.” Things were considerably less sumptuous on the other side of the door and Bessie hid a smile at the bare concrete floors and badly scuffed walls.

  “I know,” Jasper said with a grin. “Everything back here needs a facelift. But the public areas are divine, aren’t they?”

  “What I saw, which was just the lobby, was gorgeous,” Bessie said.

  “You must let me give you a grand tour,” the man said.

  “Another time,” Bessie told him. “My friend is coming back for me in a very short while.”

  Bessie had known Jasper in his youth, as he’d grown up in Laxey. He’d gone to London for university and then spent many years working his way up in the hotel industry. Some time back, Jasper and his partner, Stuart, had purchased the crumbling hotel and had spent an incredible amount of time, effort, and money restoring it to its former glory. They’d been open again for less than a year, but Bessie had heard nothing but good things about the place.

  Jasper escorted Bessie into a small room that was clearly an office. Photos of a dog nearly covered one wall. Jasper sat down behind the desk and gestured towards the chair opposite him. “Please sit down,” he said. “I promise the chair is more comfortable than it looks.”

  Bessie gave him a doubtful smile, but sat anyway. Jasper was right. The oddly shaped plastic chair was quite comfortable.

  “It’s one of several that we found when we bought the hotel,” Jasper explained. “At some point, the entire dining room was furnished with those chairs. They’re meant to be modern and cool, I think, but they’re pretty awful looking, to my mind. The only good thing about them is that they are surprisingly comfy.”

  “I wouldn’t want them in my house,” Bessie replied. “But now that you mention it, I do remember them in the dining room here. I can’t remember why I was here, but these chairs were at every table. I’m sure they came in different colours as well.”<
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  “We found several blue ones, a handful of red and just one or two white,” Jasper told her. “There was one badly broken yellow one in one of the guest rooms as well.”

  Bessie shook her head. “They are rather ugly,” she said. “But I’m sure they were expensive.”

  “They were, and weirdly they’re still valuable,” Jasper replied. “We sold several of them for a ridiculous amount of money, really. But neither Stuart nor I liked them enough to want to keep them. I have this one in my office and there are a few more being kept in storage in case we need a quick influx of money. The rest we sold.”

  “And I’m sure you don’t miss them,” Bessie said.

  “But you didn’t come to talk about chairs,” Jasper said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to change someone’s booking,” Bessie said.

  Jasper raised an eyebrow. “Bessie, you know I love you dearly, but I can’t let you change someone else’s booking.”

  Bessie nodded. “Let me explain,” she said. “It’s for Hugh Watterson.”

  “You can’t possibly change his booking,” Jasper said quickly. “He’s honeymooning here with the lovely Grace. I’ve given him a very special rate on one of our nicest rooms. He was a big help when we found ourselves having some issues with one of our staff recently.”

  “Yes, I know, but myself and some of Hugh’s other friends are all pooling our resources,” Bessie explained. “We’re sending Hugh and Grace to Paris for the week. They’ll still need to stay here the night of the wedding, but then they’re being whisked away for a glorious week in France.”

  Jasper grinned. “What a lovely idea,” he said. “They’ll have a wonderful time. It’s such a romantic city. It’s perfect for a honeymoon.”

  “I am sorry about the short notice,” Bessie said. “I hope it isn’t too much bother. If you need to charge a penalty or anything, I’ll pay it, of course.”

  “Oh, goodness, no,” Jasper waved a hand. “We only require twenty-four hours notice for cancellations, and for you even that doesn’t apply.”