Aunt Bessie's Holiday

by Diana Xarissa

  “So that was Charles,” Bessie said in a conversational tone.

  Doona laughed. “It was indeed,” she agreed. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you. Next time.”

  “Is there going to be a next time?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Doona said. “If I’d known he was here, I wouldn’t have come. But I don’t have to tell you that.”

  Bessie nodded. She’d been Doona’s shoulder to cry on during the difficult divorce. She knew how badly Charles had hurt her.

  “Do you suppose Charles is paying for our stay out of his own pocket?” Doona asked.

  “I don’t know,” Bessie replied. “I don’t know how such things work.”

  “Well, I intend to find out,” Doona said.

  “Does it really matter?” Bessie asked.

  “Yes, or maybe no,” Doona said with a deep sigh. “I don’t want to feel like I owe him anything. And I will, if he’s paying for this, even though I didn’t know he was here when we came.”

  “Well, I can certainly pay for my half of the holiday if we have to,” Bessie told her. “Why do you think he brought you here?”

  “I have no idea,” Doona told her. “But I know one thing. It isn’t because he suddenly realised how much he loves and misses me.”

  “You never did tell me the whole story about how you found out he was cheating,” Bessie said. “Was it an anonymous letter?”

  “We’ll talk later,” Doona assured her. “For now, I intend to have fun.”

  She drained her glass of champagne and then looked around for the waiter. Several were now circulating with drinks as well as trays full of starters. Bessie and Doona both helped themselves to several of the choices.

  “The food is delicious,” Bessie said after she’d finished her own glass of champagne.

  “I can’t wait to see what’s for dinner,” Doona told her.

  “It’s a tasting menu,” a voice from behind them said.

  The pair turned around and smiled at Mai. They’d seen her circulating around the room, but hadn’t noticed her joining them.

  “That sounds interesting,” Bessie said.

  “It’s basically several small courses that give you a sample of some of the most popular items on the restaurant’s menu. We’re hoping you’ll want to come back to dine here again and again while you’re staying with us,” Mai told them.

  “If the rest of the food is as good as the starters, we’ll definitely be back,” Doona told her.

  “Mai, where have you gone?” a loud voice shouted from the kitchen doorway.

  “Oh, please excuse me,” the girl said, blushing. “Duty calls.”

  “I wonder who that is,” Bessie murmured as they watched Mai join the man in the doorway. He looked to be somewhere in his fifties, with short grey hair. He was fit and trim and wearing an immaculate suit that Bessie was certain had been very expensive.

  “That’s Lawrence Jenkins,” a voice from Bessie’s left said.

  The two women looked at the man who had joined them. He was tall, with brown hair and eyes. To Bessie he looked no more than forty and his smile lit up his entire face.

  “Should I recognise the name?” Bessie asked.

  The man laughed lightly. “Oh, goodness no,” he exclaimed. “He’s a business colleague of some sort to our illustrious leader, Charles Adams. I’m not sure exactly what his connection with Lakeview is, but he seems to be quite happy to give orders to the staff.”

  “I didn’t know Charles’s surname was Adams,” Bessie said, trying to process too much information too quickly.

  “I kept my maiden name,” Doona said quietly. “Anyway, I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said to the man who was listening intently to their conversation.

  “I’m Harold Butler,” the man said, bowing deeply. “I’m, well, I’m the assistant general manager or something like that. Titles don’t really interest me. Let’s just say that if you need anything while you’re here, I’m happy to help, shall we?”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Bessie said.

  “Keeping guests happy is the best part of my job,” he replied. “Really, if I can help, just ring me.”

  He handed them each a business card. “My mobile number is on the card,” he said. “You can reach me any time.”

  Before the women could reply, he was looking past them. “Must dash,” he said apologetically. “But do ring me if you need anything.”

  He was swallowed up by the growing crowd before Bessie and Doona could reply.

  “He seemed very nice,” Bessie remarked.

  “Don’t be fooled by appearances,” a voice hissed from behind her.

  Bessie spun around, beginning to feel disoriented by all the people who kept interupting their conversations.

  Again, it was Mai Stratton who was smiling at her. “Harold is very nice,” she said. “But he’s not a fan of Charles Adams. Just be careful what you say around him.”

  “Why doesn’t he like Charles?” Bessie had to ask.

  “Harold was our general manager until about three or four months ago,” Mai said, keeping her voice low. She glanced around before she continued. “Charles just turned up one day with orders from central office to take over. No one seems to know why.”

  “Poor Harold,” Bessie said. “Was he a good general manager?”

  Mai shrugged. “He was doing okay,” she said. “But he’s really too nice to do the job. He wants everyone to like him, but a lot of the staff took advantage of that. Charles is better at keeping everyone in line.”

  A sudden buzzing noise startled Bessie. “What was that?”

  “Time for dinner,” Mai said loudly and brightly. “Come on.”

  Bessie looked at the tables as she followed Mai. They were all set with linen tablecloths covered with what looked like expensive flatware and glasses. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above them.

  “You two are over here,” Mai told them, showing them to a small table for two in a quiet corner. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Doona picked up the small card that was leaning against her plate. “Mrs. Doona Moore Adams” had been printed on it. She stared at it for a moment and then shook her head. Bessie sat down in her seat and watched as Doona very carefully tore the word “Adams” off the card.

  “That’s better,” she said as she sat down opposite Bessie. There was a candle burning in the centre of the table and Bessie grinned as Doona dropped the piece she’d ripped off the card onto the flame.

  Bessie watched as the dining room filled with guests. When everyone was seated, waiters began to move around the space, carrying trays full of the first course and pouring glasses of wine.

  For several minutes the pair ate and drank silently, letting the background noise of the room wash over them. Bessie watched as Mai and Harold moved from table to table, presumably making sure everyone was happy.

  They had just started on the second course when a tall blonde woman appeared in the doorway. She looked around the room as if she was trying to find someone. To Bessie it seemed as if her eyes stopped on Doona for a short while, before moving on. The room grew quiet as everyone noticed the new arrival.

  Bessie looked over at her friend. “Someone you know?” she whispered.

  “Jessica Howe,” Doona whispered back. “The woman Charles was seeing behind my back.”

  “What’s she doing here?” Bessie asked the obvious question.

  “I’ve no idea,” Doona hissed.

  “Ah, Mai, there you are,” the woman called from the doorway. “Do us a favour and tell Charles I’m here, would you?”

  “Certainly, Ms. Howe,” Mai said, turning and heading towards the kitchen door.

  The room remained silent while Mai was gone. Bessie used the time to study Jessica Howe. She would have put the woman somewhere in her thirties, but it was hard to be certain, as she was wearing a great deal of makeup. Her hair was platinum blonde and it looked dry and brittle, even from across the room. Her eyes were a luminous blue that
Bessie suspected came from coloured contact lenses. She had generous curves that were being showcased in a very tight dress that was not only cut low at the front, but had a very short skirt.

  “Charles is really busy in the kitchen,” Mai announced when she returned. “He said to tell you he’ll see you later. In the meantime, you’re welcome to enjoy the dinner.”

  “Oh, am I?” Jessica asked, her voice rising in pitch with every word. “Busy in the kitchen, is he? Tell him to get out here right now or he’ll regret it,” she shouted shrilly. “I won’t be treated like this, not after everything he’s put me through.”

  “Calm down, Jess,” Charles said as he walked in behind Mai. “There’s no need for a scene. Have some dinner and we’ll talk later.”

  “I don’t want to talk,” Jessica shouted. “I want to kill you.”

  It seemed as if everyone in the room gasped at the same time.

  “Surely you’ll do a better job on a full stomach,” Charles suggested. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m working.”

  “I think we’ve had quite enough of this little drama,” another voice chimed in. Lawrence Jenkins walked in behind Charles and nodded tightly at him. “Ms. Howe, if you’d like to come with me, we can have a chat while you wait for Charles to finish here.”

  “Charles is finished here,” she replied. “In every possible way.”

  “Yes, well, that’s something we can better discuss elsewhere,” Lawrence said smoothly. He walked over to her and took her arm. “Let’s go somewhere a little more comfortable. I’m sure we’ll find lots to talk about.”

  For a moment it looked as if the woman was going to argue, but Lawrence turned her around and led her out of the room. It seemed as if everyone sighed with relief together as the front door shut behind the pair.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Bessie said brightly to Doona.

  “Do you think we can change our return ferry booking?” Doona asked.

  “If not, we can always just drive down to Heysham and stay in a hotel there,” Bessie suggested.

  The waiters were busily refilling wine glasses and serving the next course. Doona took a bite of chicken in a white wine sauce and sighed. “We can’t leave,” she said. “The food is too good.”

  Bessie laughed. “The rest of the holiday will probably feel quite dull after tonight’s excitement,” she said.

  “I certainly hope so,” Doona said emphatically.

  The rest of the evening went more smoothly. Various courses were served as the wine flowed continually. By the time the puddings were being distributed, Bessie was feeling very full and rather sleepy.

  “I think I ate too much,” she said as she finished the last bite of her crème caramel.

  “I know I ate too much,” Doona replied. “And I drank too much as well, but at least I haven’t thought about Charles for at least five minutes.” She giggled. “Oooops, I just thought about him,” she told Bessie.

  “I do hope you aren’t thinking fondly of him,” Bessie said.

  “No, I was thinking about stabbing him with this spoon,” Doona said, holding up her spoon.

  “I’m not sure you could do much damage with a spoon.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m mad enough to kill him with a spoon,” Doona countered.

  “If I could have everyone’s attention,” Mai said loudly from the centre of the room. “I want everyone to meet Nathan Beck, our chef. He’s responsible for all of the gorgeous food you’ve enjoyed tonight.”

  Mai gestured towards the thirty-something man who was standing beside her. His long dirty-blond hair was tied in a ponytail down his back. He smiled vaguely at the tables full of people who were applauding politely. When the applause stopped, Mai nudged him.

  “Oh, um, well, thank you for coming. I hoped you enjoyed the meal and I hope to see all of you back again during your stay,” he said. He glanced around, then focussed his gaze on one of the waitresses.

  “And, of course, my thanks to all the hardworking wait staff, especially my beautiful wife, Monique.”

  Bessie watched the pretty brunette blush brightly.

  “Yes, well, of course, everyone has worked hard tonight,” Mai said, sounding annoyed. “Anyway, thanks again to Nathan.”

  The guests clapped again, with somewhat less enthusiasm. That seemed to mark the end of the evening. Guests began to gather up jackets and handbags and depart back to their cabins and cottages.

  Bessie looked at Doona. “Ready to head back to our temporary home?” she asked her.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Doona replied. “If I stay here I might just tell Charles a few things.”

  “We should definitely go, then,” Bessie said.

  The pair stood up and picked up their bags. They were nearly to the door when Mai caught up to them.

  “I do hope you enjoyed your evening,” she said brightly.

  “The food was delicious,” Bessie replied.

  “And the entertainment was definitely interesting,” Doona added dryly.

  “Ms. Howe was a bit overwrought,” Mai said. “She and her husband have been having difficulties.”

  “I’m sure her affair with Charles hasn’t helped,” Doona shot back.

  Mai flushed. “I don’t know anything about that,” she said.

  “I know far too much about that,” Doona told her. “But what did Charles tell you about me?”

  “Oh, but, that is, I mean,” she looked confused. “He said, but, well, I don’t think, I mean, maybe I should let you get back to your accommodation. Do ring me if you need anything.”

  The girl hurried away before Doona could do anything more than shake her head. “What has Charles been telling them about me?” she demanded of Bessie.

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” Bessie replied. “And I’m also sure that Mai isn’t going to tell you.”

  “We’re here for a week,” Doona said grimly. “She’ll tell me before we leave.”

  The pair headed for the door, and this time they weren’t stopped. Outside, it was a perfect autumn evening. The air was crisp, but not cold, and both women inhaled deeply.

  “It smells like autumn,” Bessie said.

  “It does,” Doona agreed.

  “It seems strange not to smell the sea, though,” Bessie remarked as they started along the path that would take them back to Foxglove Close.

  They walked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Bessie wanted to ask Doona hundreds of questions, but she didn’t want to upset her friend. Back at their cul-de-sac, people were still arriving and dashing about with suitcases and boxes. Bessie and Doona quickly made their way into number eight. As soon as they got inside, Doona went into the kitchen and came out with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  “I’ve probably had enough for tonight,” Bessie said.

  “Let me pour you a glass anyway,” Doona replied. “You don’t have to drink it, but it will keep me from drinking the entire bottle.”

  They took their wine out onto their small patio and sat down.

  “What a mess,” Doona said after a few minutes.

  “Why would Charles bring you here?” Bessie asked the first question that popped into her head.

  “I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Doona replied. “We haven’t spoken in over two years. Once I found out he’d cheated, my advocate and his solicitor handled all contact between us. I didn’t even think he knew I’d moved to Laxey.”

  “You’ve told me some things about your marriage, but certainly not everything. I didn’t know you found out he was cheating from a letter,” Bessie said. “I don’t want you to talk about anything that you’ll find upsetting, but I’d love to hear the whole story.”

  Doona nodded. “It might do me some good to talk it all through,” she said. “Maybe we can work out what Charles really wants, as well.”

  She topped up both of their wine glasses and then sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. “We met at a party,” she began in a low voice. “I was leav
ing just as he was coming in. He was gorgeous and so very charming. I fell in love with him when our eyes met for the first time.”

  Bessie took a sip of wine, wondering what she could possibly say to make this easier on her dear friend. “I’m sorry,” she finally muttered as the silence stretched between them.

  “He was incredible,” Doona continued now. “He’d travelled all over the world as an important manager for a major hotel chain. They were opening a new hotel on the island and he’d come for the grand opening. Within minutes he’d invited me to join him at the big party the next evening. The party itself was full of minor celebrities and the very cream of the island’s social crop, and I was completely overwhelmed, but Charles made me feel as if I were the only woman in the room, or at least the only one who mattered to him.”

  She paused for a sip of wine. Bessie leaned over and patted her arm. “If this is too painful, we can talk about the weather,” she suggested.

  Doona laughed. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “I’ve had two years to recover, after all.”

  “And you’ve had no contact with the man in all that time?” Bessie checked.

  “None, but let me get back to the story,” Doona said. She sat back again and took a deep breath. “Charles had to head back to London after that weekend, but we talked on the phone all the time until he could visit again. We got engaged on that next visit and married about two weeks later. It was all such a whirlwind, and I was the happiest I’d ever been on our month-long honeymoon.”

  “Didn’t you tell me that you travelled around Europe for the month?” Bessie asked.

  “We did,” Doona confirmed. “We visited many of the company’s finest properties and were treated like VIPs everywhere we went.”

  “Sort of like now,” Bessie muttered.

  “Exactly like now,” Doona said. “I didn’t think about it before, but maybe I should have suspected something.”

  “You thought you’d won a very special prize,” Bessie reminded her.

  “Yeah, but all the fussing over us is extreme. I wish I knew what Charles was up to.”

  “What happened after the honeymoon?” Bessie had to ask.

  “Charles suggested that I stay on the island, as he travelled so much he was never in his London flat anyway. He used to fly across to visit whenever he could, or at least that’s what he told me. Then one day, about two months after our honeymoon, I got a letter. Well, it was more like a package. Inside was a letter telling me exactly why Charles had married me, along with photos, copies of restaurant receipts and telephone bills and a lot of other things.”