Aunt Bessie Joins (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 10)

by Diana Xarissa

  “You shouldn’t have,” Bessie replied.

  “But we had such fun shopping for you,” Grace exclaimed. “Didn’t we?” she asked, turning her big blue eyes on Hugh.

  “Oh, um, yes, er, that is, it was really fun,” Hugh said unconvincingly.

  Bessie laughed. “I have a few little things for you two as well,” she said. She led the pair into her sitting room and gestured towards the tree. “They’re under there with a lot of things for other people. I was hoping you two might stop in on Christmas itself, so I’m afraid I put your things towards the bottom of the piles.”

  “We can stop back on Christmas,” Grace said quickly. “We weren’t sure what your plans were, but we’d be happy to stop by if you’re sure we won’t be intruding on your celebration.”

  “Oh, goodness, not at all,” Bessie told her. “Doona is coming for lunch, but I’ll be up at six. You’re welcome any time from seven until, I don’t know, nine or ten o’clock that night.”

  Grace laughed. “I think we’ll probably drop in on our way back from Douglas. My family is having us for our traditional Christmas breakfast and then we’re having Christmas dinner with Hugh’s family. We’ll try to stop here between the two.”

  “That would be lovely,” Bessie said. “I won’t worry about your gifts for now, then.”

  Bessie insisted that the pair sit down in the sitting room where they could all enjoy the tree and the decorations. “I’ll fix some tea and bring through some Christmas cookies,” she told them. When she returned with a tray, Grace was holding her Christmas stocking.

  “This is beautiful,” she said. “It looks like you’ve had it for many years.”

  “It was mine when I was a child,” Bessie replied. “I won’t tell you how many years ago that was, though.”

  Grace chuckled. “Too bad you don’t have anywhere to hang it.”

  “I had the fireplace in here removed when I had central heating put in,” Bessie told her. “At the time, it seemed sensible to simply get rid of it, but I do rather miss it sometimes.”

  The trio sipped their tea and ate their way through a plate of cookies, although Hugh managed to eat most of those.

  “This is another American tradition I’m firmly in favour of, like Thanksgiving,” he said after his fourth cookie.

  “I’m happy to share the recipes with you if you want to make your own next year,” Bessie told him.

  “I’d love to have them, but I’m not sure I want to wait for next Christmas. It seems like I probably want to practice making them between now and then,” he replied.

  Bessie and Grace both laughed. “Why don’t you weigh twenty stone?” Grace demanded.

  “I don’t know, I’m just lucky I suppose,” Hugh said, grabbing another cookie.

  “You’ll probably have to be more careful when you get older,” Bessie told him. “But enjoy it now while you can.”

  “I do,” Hugh assured her.

  Bessie laughed again. Anyone who knew Hugh knew that.

  After the happy couple helped Bessie tidy up from their impromptu tea party and left, Bessie found herself staring at the pile of presents under her tree. She’d bought gifts for a great many people and she had no idea when she’d see most of them next. She needed to sort out how to deliver them all, and soon. It was nearly Christmas. In previous years she’d spent most of December visiting various friends around the island and sharing gifts with them. This year she’d been so busy that she hadn’t had the chance.

  She made a list of everyone she’d bought a gift for and then began to ring them all up, one after another. When she was finished, some time later, she’d spoken to nearly everyone or at least left messages on their answering machines. Feeling that such devices were an excellent invention, she sat back and sighed. Now that she’d invited everyone to stop and visit her at home over Christmas or Boxing Day, she needed to bake again.

  She took a quick walk up the hill to the little shop at the top and bought the ingredients for more Christmas cookies. The girl behind the counter was one Bessie had never seen before, but she rarely visited the shop in the late afternoon or evening. The shop assistant was polite, at least, and Bessie left carrying several heavy bags.

  “At least it’s downhill home,” she muttered to herself as she began the walk back to the cottage.

  “Let me give you a ride,” a voice called.

  Bessie turned around and smiled at John Rockwell who had stopped his car on the road next to her. “That’s very kind of you,” she said. “But it’s out of your way.”

  “Not far. You can thank me with a few more Christmas cookies if you feel you must,” he told her with a grin.

  Bessie laughed and piled her shopping into the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat.

  “Should I ask what’s in the bags?” John asked.

  “I’ve invited nearly everyone I know to stop and visit me on Christmas or Boxing Day,” Bessie explained. “Now I need to make lots more Christmas cookies so I have something to offer them all.”

  “And you need to do it tonight as you’re at the castle all of tomorrow,” John guessed.

  “Exactly. I don’t like to buy baking supplies at the corner shop. The prices are much higher than they are at ShopFast. But this was an emergency.”

  “And it’s Christmas,” John added.

  He insisted on carrying the bags into the cottage for Bessie. She put several cookies on a plate for him before she started putting her shopping away.

  “I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” John said after the first cookie was gone. “It looks like you’re going to have a busy evening.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, actually,” Bessie told him. “I was going to ring you, but I forgot. I had lunch with Laura today and she told me something I thought you should know, and I also had a chat with Carolyn.”

  “You’ll have to start by reminding me who Laura is,” John replied.

  “Oh, sorry. I mean Laura Meyers. She works for Manx National Heritage and was working at Castle Rushen until recently.”

  John nodded. “Pete interviewed all of the staff members there,” he told Bessie. “I’ve read through his notes, but I didn’t remember the name.”

  Bessie repeated everything that Laura had said about the conversation she’d had with Natasha. After a few minutes, John started taking notes.

  “Interesting,” he said as he slid his notebook back in his pocket after Bessie had finished. “I’ll follow up with Pete and then with Natasha.”

  “If you can avoid telling her that Laura repeated the story, I’d appreciate it,” Bessie said. “I don’t want Natasha angry at Laura.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he replied.

  “I don’t think anything Carolyn said is at all helpful, but I tried,” she said before she recounted her chat with the woman.

  “So now she’s settled on Michael as the killer,” John mused. “That’s very convenient for her and Richard.”

  “It’s also convenient for the killer, assuming Michael didn’t do it,” Bessie said.

  “Yes, and it’s a solution that the Chief Constable is leaning towards as well,” John said. “It would be nice to think that it’s that simple.”

  “But you don’t,” Bessie said.

  “It’s almost too neatly packaged,” John replied. “But I’m going to get out of your way now. Good luck with your baking. I need to ring Pete.”

  Bessie spent her evening baking dozens of cookies in several different varieties. She finally went to bed much later than normal, feeling both exhausted and as if she’d accomplished a great deal.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thursday morning was Christmas Eve. Bessie woke up and felt a small thrill of excitement. Even at her age, perhaps especially at her age, Christmas was something special. She showered and lavished on her dusting powder, thinking about Matthew and also about a Christmas long ago when another man had asked her to be his wife. I wonder where I’d be now if I’d said yes, sh
e thought. The most likely answer was Australia, as that was where the man was living when he’d visited the island and met Bessie. She shook her head to chase the memories away. Everything had worked out for the best. He’d eventually married someone else and she’d stayed on the island she loved, in the cottage that was home.

  By the time she’d finished her walk, she was anxious to get to ShopFast and get her groceries. Although Christmas Eve was usually quiet, as most people preferring to get their shopping done early, this year might be different. She didn’t want to waste time waiting in long queues if at all possible. She was so eager to get going that she didn’t mind that her driver turned out to be Mark again. He always drove too fast, and for once she wasn’t unhappy about that.

  “I’ll be back in an hour,” he told Bessie when he dropped her off.

  “I just hope I’m done by then,” she replied.

  “I can wait,” Mark assured her.

  Assuming his unexpected courtesy was due to his desire for a large Christmas bonus, Bessie nevertheless hurried around the store. It wasn’t nearly as busy as she’d feared and as she waited behind a harassed mum with two toddlers at the checkouts, Bessie remembered why she liked to shop on Christmas Eve. Her turkey had been marked down to half-price, the sprouts had been marked down even further than that and the bakery was practically giving away apple pies. The store would be shutting early this evening and be closed on Christmas Day. They needed to get rid of anything that wouldn’t keep or be wanted for Boxing Day.

  Bessie had a house full of Christmas cookies and mince pies, but she bought several of the discounted apple pies to take to Castle Rushen. She was back outside the store with two minutes to spare, her trolley full of very full grocery bags. Mark was waiting at the agreed-upon spot.

  “Let me help,” he said, climbing out of the taxi to help Bessie load her bags into the boot.

  With the bags safely stowed away, Bessie climbed into the passenger seat and settled back with a sigh. It was only the very beginning of what was going to be a very long day.

  “So, do you have big plans for the rest of the day?” Mark asked as he drove.

  “Tonight is the last night of ‘Christmas at the Castle,’” Bessie told him. “We’re auctioning off all of the decorations in the rooms and several other prizes that have been donated to Manx National Heritage.”

  “I hope no one else gets themselves killed down there tonight,” Mark said.

  Bessie stopped herself from snapping back at the man. In a weird way, she felt like he was genuinely trying to be nice. “I’m sure we’ll have a lovely evening,” she said after a moment.

  Back at her cottage, Mark insisted on parking and carrying Bessie’s shopping inside for her. “This is really nice,” he said, looking around Bessie’s kitchen. “I don’t think I’ve ever been inside before.”

  “No, I don’t think you have,” Bessie said, thinking of all the times he’d sat in the car and honked rather than come to her door. “Let me pack you up a few Christmas cookies to keep you going,” she said. She quickly filled a small bag with cookies and handed it to the man. “Happy Christmas.”

  “Ah, thank you,” he said. He gave her a crooked smile and then ducked his head. “Happy Christmas to you, too,” he said.

  Bessie watched him walk back to his car, surprised to find that she didn’t dislike him quite as much as she usually did. She even decided to add a larger than normal tip to his fare when she received the bill from the company. She laughed at herself. Mark had clearly been hoping for just that, but for today, she didn’t mind.

  After she put her shopping away, she carefully packed up several boxes with the things she needed to take to Castle Rushen. By the time Mark Blake arrived to collect her, she was more than ready.

  “It’s been a long morning,” he complained as he loaded Bessie’s boxes into his boot. “I was starting to think it would never be time to head south.”

  “You’ll be relieved when tonight is over,” Bessie suggested as she settled into the passenger seat.

  “I will,” Mark agreed. “It’s been much more successful than we’d hoped, but it’s also been incredibly stressful.”

  “Two unexplained deaths and an act of vandalism didn’t help,” Bessie said dryly.

  “That’s certainly true. But in less than twelve hours it will all be over, bar the tidying up, at least, and I can get back to my other responsibilities. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to boring meetings.”

  “Our committee meetings were never boring,” Bessie said with a laugh.

  “Not with Carolyn on the committee,” Mark agreed. “I do think she managed to disagree with someone about nearly everything.”

  “I think she’s a very unhappy woman, really,” Bessie said. “Volunteer work doesn’t suit her.”

  At the castle, Mark insisted that Bessie head inside while he made multiple trips with her boxes. “We’re all meeting in the banquet room, of course,” he told Bessie.

  Bessie wasn’t surprised to find that she was the first to arrive. Mark had been a few minutes early and the drive hadn’t taken as long as it sometimes did. The roads had been quieter than normal. It wasn’t long before the others began to wander in, though.

  “Hello, Bessie,” Marjorie called as she walked in carrying a large box. “How are you this lovely Christmas Eve?”

  “I’m well,” Bessie replied. “How are you?”

  Before Marjorie could reply, they were joined by Mary and Natasha. The charity volunteers trickled in as Bessie chatted with first one person and then another. Once Carolyn arrived, Mark called them all to order.

  “I want all of our volunteers to spend some time making sure their rooms look their absolute best,” he told them. “The committee is going to start by going through the auction room, making sure that’s ready, and then we’ll be coming around and helping with each room.”

  “I do hope I’m in the right place,” a voice said from the doorway. “I’m Lawrence Wright. I’m a volunteer from the Alzheimer’s Research Fund. Someone asked me to come down and help out tonight.”

  “You are absolutely in the right place,” Mark assured him. “I’ll show you your room when we’re done here.”

  Bessie smiled at the new arrival, grateful that he would be dealing with Michael’s room tonight. The man had grey hair that matched his beard and mustache, and Bessie thought that he could have passed himself off as Father Christmas with the right clothing. He certainly had the little round belly, she thought, trying not to giggle at the idea.

  “If anyone has any questions or concerns, please ask. Henry is here from Manx National Heritage if anyone needs a ladder or any tools,” Mark told them. “We’ll meet back here at five for dinner. From the looks of all the different boxes, it seems that we have a great many Christmas treats as well.”

  A few people clapped and then the group began to disperse around the castle. Bessie joined the rest of the committee as they headed down to the room that was set up for the auction. It didn’t take them long to iron out a few small issues. Carolyn was unusually quiet as they worked.

  “Are you okay?” Bessie asked her as they crossed paths.

  “I’m fine,” she said with a tight smile. “I have a headache, that’s all.”

  Bessie offered her some tablets, but Carolyn refused. “I have to be careful what I take,” she said. “I might just go home.”

  Bessie knew that Mark was counting on Carolyn to cajole her wealthy friends into spending a lot at the auction. If Carolyn left now, it could have a serious impact on the evening’s success.

  “Maybe you’ll feel better after we eat something,” Bessie suggested.

  Carolyn shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  The committee spent some time checking the room that they’d decorated, and then they split up to help the others. Bessie found that most of the charity volunteers were simply sitting in their rooms, waiting.

  “We really didn’t need to come in this early,” Agnes
said. “That isn’t a complaint, though. I didn’t have anything better to do.”

  “I think Mark was afraid the rooms would suffer from the crowds more than they did,” Bessie replied. “Everything looks good everywhere, though.”

  As Bessie headed back up to the banquet room to see if she could find Mark, her mobile rang.

  “Bessie, it’s Doona. I’m bored and I was wondering if you could use a hand down there.”

  “Oh, goodness, we don’t have enough for us to do,” Bessie said with a laugh. “But it’s nearly time for dinner. Why don’t you come down and join us? I’m sure there will be plenty, and I’d love to see you.”

  “Oh, I can’t invite myself to your dinner,” Doona protested. “But I will come down a little early. I’ll plan to be there around six, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is,” Bessie said. “Ring me when you arrive and I’ll come and get you. Henry will probably be at the entrance anyway.”

  “Great, I’ll see you soon.”

  In the banquet room, the caterers were setting up for dinner. Bessie lent them a hand as everyone else trickled in. Before anyone started eating, Bessie passed out the small wrapped gifts she had for everyone. She was happy when no one opened them immediately, which would have spoiled the surprise for everyone else.

  For the next hour everyone enjoyed the delicious food, but Bessie felt as if there was something odd in the atmosphere. While everyone was superficially festive, there were tensions everywhere.

  “Mary, what’s wrong?” Bessie hissed to her friend. Bessie had noticed her frowning whenever she didn’t think she was being watched.

  “I’ve had a bit of a falling out with Natasha,” Mary said. “It isn’t anything serious, but I think I might need a new designer.”

  Bessie looked over at the woman, who was standing very close to Mark and talking. The pair looked very cosy all of the sudden.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Bessie asked.

  “Not tonight,” Mary replied. “It isn’t anything, really, but I don’t think we can keep working together.”

  “That sounds quite serious,” Bessie said.