Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9)

by Diana Xarissa

  Bessie noticed the tears in the other woman’s eyes. “But you do love Eoin,” she reminded her gently.

  “And he loves me,” Fenella said. “I’ve never had any reason to doubt that.”

  Bessie couldn’t think of a suitable reply for that, so she sipped her tea and ate her pudding. The other woman did the same.

  “I’d better go and see my father,” Fenella said after a few minutes.

  “It was nice to talk with you,” Bessie said. “You and Eoin should come for Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday.”

  Fenella shook her head. “Thank you, but we’re going to have company,” she told Bessie. “Nicholas and Sarah are coming across to see us.”

  “How nice,” Bessie exclaimed. “Eoin must be delighted.”

  Fenella shrugged. “He reckons they’ve heard he isn’t well and are coming over to make sure of their inheritance,” she said.

  “Surely not,” Bessie said.

  “I don’t know. We’ll see when they get here, I suppose.”

  “Nicholas hasn’t been on the island for years, has he?” Bessie asked.

  “Not since he turned eighteen,” Fenella told her. “He couldn’t wait to get off the island, of course, but he settled down eventually.”

  “I wonder if he remembers Jacob Conover,” Bessie said thoughtfully.

  “I shouldn’t think so,” Fenella said quickly. “He would have still been in his teens when the man was here. I’m sure he didn’t pay any attention to him.”

  Bessie nodded. “Teenagers can be incredibly self-absorbed, can’t they?” she laughed.

  “Anyway, they arrive on Wednesday. I just hope they don’t stay for too long.”

  “Didn’t you tell me that they had children? Are they bringing any of them across?”

  Fenella shook her head. “Their oldest, Ned, is staying behind to run the farm. The others are scattered around the country and apparently don’t have any interest in visiting, at least not at the moment.”

  While she was answering Bessie, Fenella rose to her feet. “Must go,” she muttered. She walked off, pausing at the door to wave to Bessie before leaving the small café. Bessie paid the bill and then headed out into the reception area again. She dug out her mobile phone and rang her taxi service.

  “We’ll send Dave,” the dispatcher told her. “He’s just dropping someone at the Sea Terminal.”

  Bessie disconnected and smiled. Dave would make up for her having to put with Mark on the drive down. He was at the nursing home only a few minutes later and the pair chatted happily all the way back to Laxey.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day, Monday, Bessie took a shorter than normal walk along the beach. She needed a few things from a grocery store and she didn’t really fancy taking a taxi to the nearest store. At breakfast, when she realised she was out of bread, she’d decided that she’d simply walk up the hill to the small corner store at the top. The girl who worked there was rude and difficult, but the store was convenient.

  She waved to Thomas, who was still working hard on the cottages, and then returned home to collect her handbag. The walk up the hill was somewhat challenging, but the walk home would be easier. A buzzer announced her arrival as she pushed the door open.

  She smiled when she spotted the woman behind the till. “Anne? But I thought you were done with working here,” she said, happy to see her friend there, rather than the grumpy young woman whose father owned the store.

  “I thought I was as well,” Anne Caine replied. “But I’m bored sitting at home and they were short-handed, so I said I’d come in for a short time to help out.”

  Bessie smiled. “You worked too hard for too many years to be able to just sit home and relax, I think.”

  Anne nodded. “I’ve read dozens of books and magazines, cleaned the whole house from top to bottom at least three times and completely reorganised every drawer and wardrobe. I’m not used to not having to work.”

  “But I’m so happy for you that you don’t,” Bessie replied.

  Anne had worked for all of her adult life to support her son and her husband, who was much better at holding down a seat at the pub than a job. Not long after her husband left her, an unexpected inheritance had transformed her and her son’s fortunes.

  “How’s Andy doing?” Bessie asked. She was very fond of Anne’s son, who had gone across in September to start studying at a culinary college.

  “He’s good,” Anne told her. “He’s already learned a lot, and he’s very excited about everything they teach. He isn’t just learning about cooking and food prep, he’s also learning how to run a business and how to find good staff and all sorts of useful things. When he finishes, in two or three years, he’ll be ready to open his own restaurant.”

  “And I’m sure it will be a huge success,” Bessie said happily.

  “I am, too,” Anne said. “Actually, Andy rang me last night. He said you’d invited him to your Thanksgiving feast.”

  “I did,” Bessie agreed. “I don’t know if he can get the time off to come, but I’d really love to see him.”

  “He’s coming,” Anne told her. “He said he was going to ring you today to let you know for sure.”

  “That is good news,” Bessie exclaimed. “And you’re coming as well, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yes, thank you again for asking me,” Anne replied.

  “You’re both welcome to bring a friend, if you’d like,” Bessie said. “I don’t know if you or Andy are seeing anyone at the moment.”

  Anne laughed. “I’m not,” she said emphatically. “Jack is doing his best to hold up the divorce. He thinks he can get some money out of me, but as it’s all in Andy’s name, that isn’t likely. Anyway, I won’t be considering a new relationship until the divorce is final.”

  “I’m sorry Jack is giving you trouble,” Bessie said.

  “It’s hardly surprising,” Anne replied with a shrug. “He was never anything but trouble. When I think back now…” she trailed off and shook her head. “Never mind, Andy’s doing great and he’s happy,” she said. “That’s what matters most to me.”

  “I’ll have to ask him, when he rings, if he’ll be bringing a guest,” Bessie said.

  “He might be,” Anne told her. “There is a girl at school that he seems to be quite taken with. He said something about trying to persuade her to come across with him.”

  “That’s interesting,” Bessie said.

  Another customer walked into the store, interrupting the conversation. Bessie grabbed a basket and made her way around, gathering what she needed. By the time she was finished, the other woman was gone.

  “Are you going to be here regularly again?” she asked as Anne rang up her purchases.

  “For the next few weeks, I will,” Anne answered. “The owner’s daughter has exams at college. Apparently she needs time off to study and then time off to take them. I’ll be working weekdays here until she returns.”

  “That’s excellent news,” Bessie said. “I can start shopping here for bread and milk again.”

  Anne smiled. “Just about everyone who has come in has seemed happy to see me back,” she told Bessie. “I’m pretty sure it has less to do with me and more to do with how miserable the owner’s daughter is, but it still makes me feel appreciated.”

  “You were a fixture here for so many years,” Bessie said. “The shop never felt quite right when you were gone.”

  “It’s much nicer now, knowing I don’t have to be here,” Anne confided. “After all those years of struggling to pay the bills and keep food on the table, it’s nice to know that if I get tired of being here, I can quit and go back to sitting at home with a good book.”

  “And if you run out of books, you can come and see me,” Bessie told her. “I have shelves full of excellent books and I’d be happy to lend you as many as you’d like.”

  “I might just take you up on that,” Anne said. “In January, when the holidays are over, maybe.”

  “I’ll see you Sa
turday,” Bessie said cheerfully. “Or maybe even sooner,” she added as she headed out the door.

  Having her friend back behind the counter in the corner store improved Bessie’s mood immeasurably. She’d always appreciated being able to pop up the hill to pick up things she needed, and now she could do so again for a few weeks without having to deal with the surly girl who had replaced Anne.

  Back in her cottage, Bessie put her shopping away and then listened to her answering machine messages. A couple of friends had rung to double-check the arrangements for Saturday and John Rockwell had left a message asking her to ring him back.

  Bessie took care of the easy calls first, giving one friend directions to the restaurant and confirming the time with another. Then she rang John at police headquarters.

  “Laxey Neighbourhood Policing, this is Doona, how may I help you?” the familiar voice came down the line.

  “Hello, Doona. It’s Bessie. John asked me to ring him back.”

  “I’ll connect you,” Doona said.

  Bessie decided that someone must have been nearby or else Doona would have taken the time to chat for a bit before putting her through. Although she couldn’t prove it, Bessie suspected that Anna Lambert was within earshot.

  “Good morning, Bessie,” John’s voice came down the line. “I was hoping I might buy you lunch today,” he said.

  “I’d like that,” Bessie replied. “Where and when?”

  “How about if I collect you at half eleven?” John suggested. “I thought we might drive over to Lonan so I can try out that little place you were so fond of.”

  “Oh, that does sound good,” Bessie said with enthusiasm. The small café had only been open for a few months, but it had already developed a reputation for excellence. They specialised in creating sampler plates with small portions of a variety of dishes. Bessie’s favourite part was that they did the same for pudding.

  “I’ll see you around half eleven, then,” John told her.

  Bessie spent the rest of her morning going through the papers from the Manx Museum. She worked carefully on transcribing each document, leaving spaces in her transcription for words she couldn’t quite work out. She found that after going through the whole of the first document once, that when she started it over again, she could read more than she’d originally thought. Marjorie had called it “getting your eye in,” so that you began to pick out the distinct way the letters were formed in each document. At eleven, she put her work away, satisfied that she’d accomplished more than she’d expected.

  After changing into a brightly coloured jumper and a long skirt, Bessie combed her hair and added a bit of makeup to her face. She powdered her nose and added a swipe of lipstick, sticking her tongue out at herself when she’d finished.”

  “You’ll never be beautiful,” she told her reflection. “But you’ve managed with what you have for this long.”

  She knew that, in her youth, she had been considered rather pretty, if not exactly beautiful, but she’d never really worried about her looks. There was little point in fussing over them now, she thought.

  John was right on time. Bessie was watching for him, and as he pulled into the parking area for her cottage, she let herself out and locked the door behind her. She crossed to the car as he emerged.

  “How are you today?” he asked as he gave her a quick hug.

  “I’m well,” Bessie replied as John took her arm and escorted her to the passenger side of the car. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, also,” John assured her. He opened her door and then helped her into the vehicle. When she was safely inside, he pushed the door shut and then climbed back into the driver’s seat.

  “I’ve heard so many good things about this place,” John told her as he drove. “But I haven’t had a chance to try it yet.”

  “I’ve only been there once,” Bessie replied. “But it was excellent and I keep meaning to go back.”

  “It isn’t in the most convenient of locations,” John said.

  “No, Lonan wouldn’t be my first choice if I wanted to open a restaurant,” Bessie said. “I’m not sure why they chose it.”

  “Who are they?” John asked.

  “Oh, let me see if I can remember,” Bessie said. She thought for a minute. “George and Mary Quayle invested in the business,” she told John. “It’s owned by a young couple from across who were looking for a small town where they could have their own restaurant and maybe start a family. The names will come to me in a minute.” She sat silently, trying to get herself to remember.

  A few minutes later, John pulled into the small car park for the café. As he slid his car into the last available space, Bessie clapped her hands.

  “Dan and Carol Jenkins,” she said triumphantly. “He’s the genius in the kitchen and she handles the front of the house.”

  “I really should have come by and introduced myself before now,” John told her. “Lonan is my responsibility as much as Laxey is, but there are two excellent constables here who do a great job keeping everything under control.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be delighted to meet you today,” Bessie said. “That is, if we can get a table.”

  She and John were approaching the café and Bessie was surprised to find a short queue in the doorway. She smiled politely at a few people she recognised as she and John joined the end of the line.

  “It looks like they aren’t having any trouble with their out-of-the-way location,” John remarked.

  “No, clearly not,” Bessie agreed.

  A moment later Carol Jenkins appeared in the doorway. She looked tired but happy as she surveyed the small crowd.

  “My goodness, where have you all come from?” she exclaimed. “You must have heard that Dan is doing a pie special today, haven’t you?”

  An appreciative murmur went through the group as Carol ushered the first four people in the queue into the café.

  “What is a pie special?” John asked Bessie in a whisper.

  “I’ve no idea,” Bessie replied quietly.

  A few minutes later, Carol had found tables for everyone in front of them and turned her attention to Bessie and John.

  “Ah, it’s Bessie, isn’t it?” she asked, smiling brightly at the pair.

  “It is, yes,” Bessie replied.

  “You came in with Mary when we were first open,” Carol said. “That was only a few months ago, but it seems forever.”

  “You’re much busier now than you were then,” Bessie said. “And deservedly so, if the food is half as good as I remember.”

  “We’re doing almost too well,” Carol said with a laugh. “I’m quite run off my feet. We’re looking to hire some more help and we’ve been able to pay back a large portion of what George and Mary invested with us, as well. It’s been a crazy few months.”

  “I’m so happy for you,” Bessie told the girl.

  “But you want a table,” Carol said. She looked back into the restaurant and then smiled. “Give me one minute,” she told Bessie and John.

  Bessie watched from the doorway as the girl cleared away plates from a small table for two in a quiet corner. The couple at the table paid their bill and then collected their things. Bessie moved out of the way to let them exit the café. A moment later, Carol was back.

  “Here we go,” she said, leading John and Bessie to the table. “As I said, today’s special is all about dishes with pie in the name. Our main course special is a sampler plate with shepherd’s pie, cottage pie, steak and kidney pie, and fish pie. Our pudding sampler is a slice of American-style apple pie, a small mince pie, and a piece of lemon tart pie.”

  “Lemon tart pie?” Bessie asked.

  Carol laughed “Okay, it’s a lemon tart. We ran out of puddings with pie in the name, so we cheated, just a little bit. It’s really too early for mince pies as well, but no one has complained.”

  “I won’t complain, either,” Bessie told her. “I’ll have both of the sampler plates, although I might need my sweet course packe
d up to go.”

  Carol nodded. “We can do full-sized servings of any of the specialty items, if you’d rather not have the sampler,” she told John. “Or we have our regular menu.” She gestured towards the printed menus on the table.

  “Oh, no, I’ll try the sampler as well,” John told here. “Just the main course one for now. I’m not sure I’ll have room for pudding.”

  Carol smiled. “As Bessie said, you can always take it home,” she told him. “What about drinks?”

  They both asked for tea before Carol rushed away. Bessie sat back and watched for a few minutes as the girl raced around the room, delivering drinks and food and taking orders. The small queue at the door grew again as people lingered over their meals and the delicious sweets.

  “It certainly is a lot busier now than it was the last time I was here,” Bessie told John.

  “They could use at least one more person out here,” John replied.

  A moment later a tall and muscular man emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray. He headed straight for Bessie.

  “Tea for two?” he asked, grinning at them.

  “Yes, but aren’t you meant to be cooking?” Bessie asked.

  “Everything is ticking over nicely in the kitchen,” he assured her. “And Carol is run off her feet out here.”

  “John, this is Dan, Carol’s husband, and the wonderful chef here,” Bessie performed the introductions.

  “It’s a pleasure,” Dan said, shaking hands with John. “But I better get back to it or Carol might start to realise how much easier I have it than she does.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Bessie laughed.

  “Now, what can I do for you?” Bessie asked John after her first sip of tea.

  “What makes you think I want something?” John asked.

  Bessie smiled at him. “I’m sure you’d love to take me to lunch on a regular basis, just for the pleasure of my company, but I know you’re too busy to do that, especially in the middle of a murder investigation. So what’s going on?”

  John laughed. “I’m going to have to start taking you to lunch for no reason just so you stop being so suspicious of me,” he said.

  Bessie smiled. “But…” she said suggestively.