Aunt Bessie Enjoys

by Diana Xarissa

  “Yes, well, the tea isn’t going to make itself is it?” Elinor asked. “Perhaps someone would like to volunteer to get it ready?”

  “I’ll do it,” Doona offered. “That way you can all share your memories and I won’t be in the way.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t be in the way, my dear,” Elinor answered. “But it would be very helpful of you to get the tea ready for us. We’d all be very grateful, I’m sure.”

  “Thanks, Doona,” Bessie whispered to her friend before Doona headed across the hall to the small kitchen.

  “I could help,” Margaret said suddenly, starting to stand up.

  “Oh, no,” Elinor told her firmly. “You sit tight and join in remembering Agnes.”

  Margaret nodded uncertainly and sat back in her place. Elinor rejoined the other two on the couch, motioning Bessie into the chair opposite. Bessie sat down and smiled at the others.

  “This is very difficult for me,” she began. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for all of you. You were all so close for such a long time. I know I’ve said it already, but I am really sorry for your loss.”

  “We were all Agnes had,” Margaret said softly.

  “She had a sister,” Elinor disagreed. “Not that that sister of hers was anything to brag about, but at least she had one.”

  “I had a sister once, too,” Joan said. “She died when she was in her forties, though. She had the same cancer as my Mary.”

  Bessie leaned forward and patted Joan on the arm. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

  “You don’t get to our age without losing people you love,” Elinor said briskly. “Life goes on, nevertheless.”

  “Why didn’t Agnes get along with her sister?” Bessie asked.

  “She didn’t approve of young Matthew’s, well, shall we say, differences,” Elinor told her. “She thought Agnes should have cut off all contact with him unless he changed his ways.”

  Bessie opened her mouth to argue, but Elinor held up a hand. “We all stood by Agnes, regardless of how we felt about her son,” she reminded Bessie. “It’s a shame her own sister couldn’t do the same.”

  “It is at that,” Joan agreed. “I don’t know what the daughters are like, but I guess we’ll find out.”

  “Are they coming across then?” Bessie asked.

  “They’ll be here tomorrow,” Elinor replied. “They’ve already had hours of conversation with young Doncan Quayle. No doubt they’re eager to get their hands on their inheritance.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t leave everything to all of you,” Bessie said. “You were essentially her family for much of her life.”

  “Yes, well, she made her own choices,” Elinor said. “I can tell you that she just changed her will in the last month. I think the previous one was rather different.”

  “In what way?” Bessie couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  “I believe, in her previous will, she did just what you suggested,” Elinor replied. “I believe she had arranged to leave her estate to the Raspberry Jam Ladies.”

  “Why did she change it?” Bessie pushed on, being nosy.

  “We didn’t know that she did change it,” Joan whispered.

  “So you were disappointed when you heard she’d left everything to her nieces,” Bessie suggested.

  “I would say surprised, rather than disappointed,” Elinor said. “After everything we’d done for her over the years, it was surprising that she decided to leave her estate to strangers.”

  “Was she very wealthy?” Bessie asked, feeling certain that eventually Elinor would tell her she’d asked one question too many.

  “She left a pretty fair amount, from what I understand,” Elinor said. “You know her husband was an electrician, and I’m sure you remember how, let’s say frugal, he was with his money. He left Agnes very comfortable and by the time he died, she had learned to be almost as careful with money as he’d been. Her only extravagance was trips across to see Matthew, and even then, he paid for most of it, as far as I know.”

  “Of course, the house will be worth some silly amount,” Joan added. “Even though it’s quite run-down and needs modernising, it’ll fetch a ridiculous sum when they sell it.”

  “No doubt,” Bessie agreed.

  “Those two girls must be thrilled with their unexpected legacy,” Elinor said crossly. “Not that any of us need the money, but after all we’d done for Agnes, well, as I said, it was disappointing.”

  “Who has a good memory of Agnes?” Margaret asked suddenly.

  “I remember her bringing Matthew down to the beach by my cottage when he was young. He was always running as fast as he could up and down the shore. He also loved to hide and I remember Agnes going nearly crazy trying to find him one day when he’d found a particularly good hiding spot.” Bessie laughed at the memory. “In the end, Agnes was sitting on the rock behind my house sobbing because she thought she’d lost him for good and he came running up. He was so sorry he’d upset her that he promised he’d never hide from her again.”

  “And did he?” Joan asked curiously.

  “He did,” Bessie replied. “But always in places that made him much easier to find.”

  The women all chuckled.

  “I remember once, when my Michelle was so sick, Agnes came over and took Mary and Mark away for a few hours. I never did find out what they’d done that afternoon. They always just laughed and said it was their secret time with Auntie Agnes, but it gave me undivided time to be with Michelle during her final days, and I was ever so grateful for that,” Joan said.

  “She always wanted lots of children,” Margaret said quietly. “But after Matthew she just never had any more. She didn’t know why and she would never have asked her doctor about it, but it made her sad sometimes.”

  “I always thought one child was quite enough,” Elinor said loudly. “That way you can give that child all of you. I can’t imagine trying to love a second child as much as you love the first one. My Nathan took up every inch of my heart.”

  “Nathan was very special,” Joan said, patting her friend on the arm.

  “Oh, but guess who I saw the other day,” Bessie said. She told the ladies about her visit with Spencer. “He reminded me of so many things,” she said. “He was reminiscing about the Jones-Windsor fairy family that Nathan used to talk about.”

  Unexpectedly, Elinor burst into tears. She jumped up and ran out of the room towards the loos.

  Bessie looked at the others. “I didn’t mean to upset her,” she said helplessly.

  Joan shook her head. “Nothing ever upsets Elinor,” she said in a puzzled voice. “I’d better go and see if she’s okay.”

  She was halfway across the room when Doona reappeared.

  “The tea’s ready,” Doona announced, looking confused. “Did I miss something?”

  “Elinor’s just gone to the loo and Joan needs to go as well,” Bessie explained. She’d tell Doona the whole story later, but the other ladies didn’t need to know that.

  “You go and get your tea,” Joan said. “Elinor and I will catch up with you in a bit.”

  Margaret and Bessie followed Doona into the kitchen where Doona had set out plates of biscuits as well as the tea service. Bessie poured tea into mugs and the three women fixed their drinks. They settled in at the table and everyone helped themselves to a few biscuits.

  “Do you have any special memories of Agnes?” Bessie asked Margaret.

  Margaret flushed. “Oh, well, yes, of course,” she said. “We were friends for a great many years. My kids used to stay over at her house once in a while to get a break, I mean, for a change of scenery, you know? She was very kind to the children and they were both devastated when I called to tell them she’d passed on.”

  “How are your children, then?” Bessie asked.

  “Oh, they’re fine,” Margaret said. “We didn’t talk long. They’re both so busy with their lives and their families. But I wanted them to know about Agnes. They were both glad I called.�
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  “I’m sure they were,” Bessie said softly.

  Joan walked back in the room and took a seat at the table. “Elinor will be here shortly,” she said as she picked up a biscuit and broke it in half.

  A moment later, Elinor came in and fixed herself a cup of tea. She sat down with it and then looked defiantly at everyone who was watching her. “I’m fine,” she said sharply. “Bessie’s comment just took me by surprise. I hadn’t thought of young Spencer in many years. He was always a troublemaker, anyway. He used to make my Nathan cry all the time.”

  Bessie bit into a biscuit, rather than biting her tongue. The effect was the same: it kept her from arguing with Elinor.

  Doona poured refills as cups emptied. The atmosphere was strained as everyone sat silently, presumably lost in her own thoughts.

  “Well, that was pleasant,” Elinor said after a while, her tone deliberately cheery. “Why don’t we head back next door and we can share a few more memories of Agnes and Nancy.”

  “I’ll take care of the washing up,” Doona announced as everyone collected plates and mugs and piled them by the sink.

  “Thank you, my dear,” Elinor said, leading the others out of the room.

  “Thank you,” Bessie said, giving her friend a quick hug.

  Back in the other room, everyone settled back into the same seats. Elinor looked around with an expectant look on her face.

  “Right, who else would like to share a memory of Agnes, or indeed of Nancy?” she asked the others.

  “I miss both of them,” Margaret said sadly. “They were both always there for me and I don’t think my life will be the same without them.”

  “At least you all still have each other,” Bessie reminded her gently. “I know the police are doing their best to figure out what’s going on and to protect you all.”

  “Protect us?” Elinor said. “Why on earth would we need protecting?”

  “I think they might be worried that someone is targeting you as a group, with Nancy’s murder and Agnes’s accident happening so close together,” Bessie explained.

  “Nonsense,” Elinor said haughtily. “Nancy’s murder was random and Agnes’s accident was just that, an accident. We are as safe today as we ever were from the vagaries of life.”

  Bessie wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she simply nodded.

  “Agnes was living on borrowed time anyway,” Elinor said abruptly.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Bessie asked as Margaret drew a sharp breath and looked away.

  “I mean she had heart trouble,” Elinor explained. “Her doctor told her to avoid any shocks or upsets. That’s why we were all checking on her so much. We were worried that the stress of Nancy’s death might kill her.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Joan said, her face pale. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that?”

  “Agnes told me in confidence,” Elinor replied. “I wasn’t going to go around telling other people her business.”

  “We aren’t exactly ‘other people,’” Joan argued. “We were her best friends, too.”

  “And if she’d wanted you to know, she would have told you,” Elinor said complacently.

  Joan flushed and then stood up. “I need some air. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The others silently watched her walk out of the room.

  “I didn’t mean to upset her,” Elinor said defensively. “I thought it might make everyone feel better if they knew that Agnes probably wouldn’t have been around much longer anyway.”

  “That’s what you said about Nancy as well,” Margaret said, getting to her feet. “It wasn’t very nice then, either.” She stomped out of the room, without looking back.

  Elinor gave Bessie a helpless look. “Surely you can understand what I was trying to do?” she said imploringly.

  Bessie nodded. “I do understand,” she assured the woman. “But everyone’s emotions are so close to the surface right now. It’s difficult to know what might upset anyone.”

  A moment later Doona walked in. “Oh, dear, is everyone okay?” she asked.

  “Margaret and Joan have stepped outside for some air,” Bessie told her. “Perhaps you’d like to check on them?”

  “Of course I can,” Doona said cheerfully.

  “She’s a nice person,” Elinor said. “Even if she is awfully young.”

  “I like having young friends,” Bessie said with a laugh. “They keep me busy and active.”

  “I suppose,” Elinor shrugged. “I’ve had the same friends for so long now that I think I’ve forgotten how to make new friends.”

  “It isn’t hard,” Bessie told her. “I’m sure you’d find it surprisingly easy if you tried.”

  “Perhaps I ought to start trying,” Elinor said dryly. “The friends I have right now don’t seem very happy with me.”

  Bessie shook her head. “Nothing can split up the Raspberry Jam Ladies,” she told Elinor. “I’m sure you’ve all had little difficulties over the years. This too will pass.”

  “Little difficulties?” Elinor shook her head. “We’ve had screaming rows, that’s what we’ve had.”

  “What could you possibly have had to argue about?” Bessie asked, trying to sound off-hand, but nearly bursting with curiosity.

  “Oh, mostly when anyone argued it was over childrearing. We didn’t all see eye-to-eye on the best ways to raise children. I have to say, some of us were more successful with our children than others as well, and that often caused little resentments.”

  Bessie nodded. “I can see that,” she said. “Everyone wants to believe that their children are perfect and it must be difficult to have your parenting choices questioned, even by your dearest friends.”

  “There were odd disagreements about financial things once in a while,” Elinor continued. “Some of the women were rather better off than others and that sometimes caused friction. Agnes, for instance, had to very careful with her money and she used to get quite upset when some of the other women would forget to pay their dues, week after week. Agnes always bought the supplies for the group, you see, and she’d end up having to spend her own money if people didn’t pay, which caused no end of trouble with her husband.”

  “Poor Agnes,” Bessie sighed. “I’m often glad I never married.”

  “I wish I’d been smart enough to stay single,” Elinor said in a confiding tone. “Marriage never did suit me, although I suppose I must be grateful that I was able to get my Nathan out of it. He was worth all of the suffering, of course.”

  “I’m sure he was,” Bessie agreed.

  “Of course, there used to be odd arguments about husbands as well,” Elinor added, seemingly warming to the topic.

  “About how best to train them?” Bessie asked with a grin.

  Elinor smiled grimly. “More like accusations over flirting and affairs,” she told Bessie.

  “Really? I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe it,” Elinor said tightly. “More than one of the ladies had little flirtations with my husband, for example, and I suspect that he might have done more than flirt with at least one them. As our marriage was pretty much over long before the Raspberry Jam Ladies began to meet regularly, it shouldn’t have bothered me, but it was difficult being friendly with women who were quite possibly seeing my husband behind my back.”

  Bessie shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been.”

  “It would have been harder, I suppose, if I’d been the only one, but one of the ladies flirted with all of the husbands and I think she slept with most of them.”

  “I won’t ask which lady,” Bessie said, although she was dying to know.

  “I wouldn’t tell you if you did ask,” Elinor answered smugly. “It’s ancient history now, anyway.”

  Bessie opened her mouth to ask another question, but she was interrupted when Doona and the others returned.

  “Oh, good, everyone’s back,” Elinor said too brightly. “I’ve just been tel
ling Bessie all about the great fun we always had when we were younger. Do you all remember the time we took the train into Douglas and then took the horse trams to the Sea Terminal for lunch? It was meant to be a special day out for everyone, but it poured with rain and the food was terrible and then one of the kids wandered off. Which one was it?”

  “It was Spencer Cannon,” Joan said, laughingly. “He got bored with waiting for pudding, so he went off to the kitchen to find out what was taking so long.”

  “I remember now,” Margaret said. “On his way to the kitchen, he spotted the ferry and decided he wanted to go for a ride. When Peggy found him, he was trying to persuade the man taking the tickets that his parents had gone on board without him and he needed to find them.”

  “Peggy was so mad, she called her husband right then and there and had him leave work and come and get him. She rode back to Laxey on the train with us while Spencer got driven home by his very angry father,” Joan recalled.

  “He always insisted that your Mark put him up to it,” Elinor reminded Joan.

  “It’s just the sort of mischief that Mark would have tried to cause, as well,” Joan said with a sigh. “I know I did a lot wrong with that boy, but I do think some kids are just born bad, and unfortunately my son is one of them.”

  “Where is Mark now?” Bessie asked tentatively.

  “I have no idea,” Joan said, her eyes filing with tears. “I haven’t heard from him in years. I assume he’s still in gaol, otherwise, he’d be writing or calling and asking for money.”

  Margaret rubbed her friend’s arm. “You poor thing,” she whispered.

  “Ouch, um, sorry, but could you not rub just there?” Joan asked her.

  “What’s wrong with your arm?” Doona asked.

  “Oh, I spilled some hot water all over myself the other day,” Joan told her. “I’m embarrassed to admit it, though. I was making myself a cup of tea and ended up with water everywhere.”

  “How did you do that?” Elinor demanded.

  “My kettle isn’t working, and I haven’t had time to get into Ramsey to get a replacement. I wanted a cuppa, so I was boiling water in a mug in the microwave,” Joan told her. “I’d never done that before and I didn’t realise how hot the handle of the mug would be. When I pulled it out of the microwave, I pulled my hand back really quickly, letting go of the mug and splashing boiling hot water everywhere. The bulk of it burned my arm, though.”