“Let me get Inspector Corkill on the phone and see what his plans are for today,” Rockwell offered. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to come and take your statement or send someone to talk to you in his place.”
“I hope, that is, I’d like it if Bill can stay with me,” Liz said hesitantly. “We don’t have any secrets and I sort of need his support.”
“I’m afraid that’s out of my hands,” Rockwell said apologetically.
Liz nodded and Bessie could see her blinking back tears. Bill sighed and then his arm went around his wife. Liz leaned back into him and sighed as well.
“If only I hadn’t been so stupid all those years ago,” she said quietly.
“We all do stupid things when we’re young,” Bessie replied. “What’s important is that we learn from our mistakes and don’t make the same ones again.”
“Oh, I definitely learned my lesson,” Liz answered.
“And so did I,” Bill said. “I learned that I need to make sure that I’m taking such good care of you that you never even notice any other men.”
Liz laughed as tears streamed down her face. “Oh, honey, you already do that.”
Bill wrapped both arms around her now, and gave her a gentle kiss on the end of her nose. “I’m sorry I’ve been giving you such a hard time about this,” he told his wife. “I love you.”
“Not as much as I love you,” Liz replied, squeezing him tightly.
Bessie glanced over at Doona and rolled her eyes. Doona had to turn her burst of laughter into a cough so as not to offend the couple.
Rockwell made a phone call and then assured Liz and Bill that someone would be there soon to take her statement. The pair wandered off towards the foyer to wait and Rockwell turned back to Bessie and Doona.
“This is turning into a very interesting morning,” he remarked.
Bessie grinned. “I can’t wait to see who comes over to say hello next,” she told him.
She didn’t have long to wait, either. She’d just finished the last of her breakfast when Joe Steele dropped into the seat across from her.
“Good morning, Aunt Bessie,” he said with a small smile.
“Hello, Joe, how are you?” she asked.
“I’ve been better,” he admitted.
Bessie introduced her friends before she picked the conversation back up where it had been. “But what’s wrong?” she asked him.
Joe shook his head. “I don’t understand women,” he said.
Rockwell laughed. “Welcome to the club,” he told the younger man. “It never gets any easier.”
Joe sighed. “I thought Claire and I were really hitting it off,” he began hesitantly. “But now that the conference is nearly over she seems to be trying to get rid of me.”
“Joe, you just met the woman two days ago,” Bessie reminded him gently. “And they’ve been very strange days at that. I suggest you follow her lead. If she isn’t ready to make plans to see you again, let it go. You can always flood her with phone calls and emails after the conference.”
“I guess,” Joe replied glumly. “She’d invited me to visit her in Anglesey,” he told Bessie. “And then, this morning when I mentioned trying to arrange flights, she said maybe I should wait.”
“So maybe she’s just trying to slow things down a little bit,” Doona suggested.
Just then the woman in question walked back into the room with her drink in hand. She smiled and waved at Joe and then headed towards them.
“I just got off the phone with Harold,” she told Joe excitedly. “He’s going to let me give my talk again this morning to make up for the interruption last night.”
“That’s great,” Joe said enthusiastically.
“I know. I was so unhappy about it being cut short last night. I didn’t get to talk about the most important things I’d found. Anyway, I’ve got to dash back to the hotel and get my notes and slides. Did you feel like a walk?”
Joe’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to walk with you,” he told Claire. He grinned back at Bessie and the others. “See you guys later,” he said as he took Claire’s arm and the pair headed towards the door.
“Ah, young love,” Rockwell said in a cynical tone.
“I think they’re very cute together,” Bessie said.
“He’s too immature for her,” Doona argued. “She’ll get tired of him soon enough.”
Bessie sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” she conceded. “He is rather young for her.”
Just then Harold Smythe strode into the room. His expression was dark and thunderous and Bessie could feel everyone in the room shrink away from him. She took a deep breath and then smiled and waved at the man. For a moment he looked at her blankly and then he crossed to her in a couple of steps.
“Bessie, this whole conference is just one disaster after another,” he said as he sat down next to her. “If I could have changed my flight, I’d have abandoned this sinking ship last night.”
“I’m glad you’re still here,” Bessie told him, patting his arm gently. “There are still some excellent talks to come and I’m especially looking forward to what you and Marjorie have to say in your concluding remarks.”
Harold laughed humourlessly. “What can we say? Watch out for peanuts if you have an allergy? If you think someone was murdered, keep it to yourself?” He shook his head. “If someone had set out to derail my career, he couldn’t have done better than what’s gone on this weekend.”
“I rather think someone set out to derail poor Mack,” Bessie said sharply. “I understand you’re disappointed in how the conference has fallen apart, but I do think you’re feeling a bit too sorry for yourself.”
Harold blushed. “You’re right, of course,” he said sheepishly. “It’s just all so difficult.”
“I’d like you to meet my friends,” Bessie told him, introducing Harold to Rockwell and Doona.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Harold replied, clearly not really interested.
“They both work for the Isle of Man Constabulary,” Bessie told Harold, hoping to surprise him.
She was unprepared for the deep flush that spread across his face. “Oh, my, well, then, um, have you been friends with Bessie for long?” Harold stammered out.
Bessie nodded, but her reply was interrupted by the sound of bells.
“What on earth?” Doona exclaimed.
“It’s my phone,” Harold said as he jumped up. “I need to answer this.”
The trio watched the man as he raced out of the room.
“Harold’s actually a very nice man and he’s usually quite interesting to talk with,” Bessie told her friends with a wry smile.
“I guess today is unusual,” Doona grinned.
Bessie smiled. “This conference was his baby and it couldn’t really have gone much worse, could it? I feel sorry for him and for Marjorie as well. She had a big part in planning and organising the conference as well.”
“Speak of the devil,” Doona grinned and waved to their friend as she walked into the room. She was clutching a coffee mug tightly and it seemed to take some time for her eyes to focus on Doona. Bessie watched her walk towards them.
“You look like you haven’t slept in a week,” she told Marjorie after she’d introduced Rockwell to the woman.
“It feels like that as well,” Marjorie admitted. “But really, I wasn’t sleeping well for at least a week before the conference because I was so worried about it. It turns out all the things I was worried about haven’t happened, and yet the conference has been disastrous. Anyway, I haven’t slept at all since Mack died.”
Bessie patted her arm. “Harold said something similar,” she replied. “But there have been some good moments, and today should be interesting.”
“We should have cancelled the rest of the conference after Mack died,” Marjorie said. “But the police didn’t want anyone to leave anyway, so it seemed like a better idea to keep going.”
“Are they going to let people leave today?” Bessie asked.
Marjorie shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Inspector Corkill about that,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere, even though I’d love to be anywhere but here.”
“I’d hate for you to miss my talk,” Bessie said quietly.
Marjorie flushed. “Of course I’m looking forward to your talk,” she told Bessie. “I just wish, oh, I don’t know, I guess I wish that George Quayle had just said no to Mack. Then I could go back to worrying about whether or not we have enough teacups and what to do if a speaker gets sick, instead of worrying about getting arrested.”
“You’re not going to get arrested,” Doona told Marjorie. “We all know you didn’t have anything to do with Mack’s death.”
“I’m not sure Inspector Corkill would agree,” Marjorie sighed. “And I did hate Mack enough to kill him, you know. I’m just too much of a coward to actually follow through with it.”
“You still hated Mack, even after all these years?” Bessie asked.
Marjorie frowned. “Yeah, I did. And I hate to admit that, even to myself. I should have been over him and getting on with my life, but I still felt so angry at him. When he suggested that we could, um, sleep together again, I probably would have stabbed him right there if I’d had a knife to hand.”
“So he didn’t know that you were still angry?” Bessie questioned.
Marjorie looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think it was more that he didn’t really believe that I could still be angry. I’m not sure that he understood why I was angry in the first place. He didn’t feel like he’d done anything wrong. He just didn’t do monogamy, and that didn’t mean he didn’t care about me.” She shook her head. “Mack was just Mack. He thought everyone loved him and life was just one big game.”
“You are so much better off without him,” Dona told her friend. “You were way too good for him in the first place.”
Marjorie managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Doona,” she said. “I’m so glad I moved here when it all went wrong. I’ve never felt so welcome and at home anywhere in the world.”
“There is something special about this place,” Rockwell told her. “I felt it when I moved here as well.”
Bessie smiled. “I hope that means that neither of you is ever planning on leaving,” she told them. “I’m ever so glad you’re both here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Marjorie told her emphatically. “I’ve built a life I love here and I’ve even learned the language.”
Bessie and Doona both laughed at that. “How is it that you’ve only been here a few years and you can speak Manx like a native?” Doona demanded. “I grew up here and once I get past moghrey mie I’m lost.”
Marjorie smiled. “I’ve always been good at languages,” she told Doona. “I’d already studied Welsh, Irish, and Scottish Gaelic anyway, so adding Manx wasn’t difficult.”
Doona and Bessie both laughed again. “Not difficult?” Bessie said. “I’ve taken your class three times and I can’t get past the very basics.”
“You just need to practice more,” Marjorie told her. “We should be having this conversation in Manx, for instance.”
Bessie groaned. “I have enough to worry about with my talk this afternoon. Please don’t make me speak Manx in the meantime,” she said a bit desperately.
Now Marjorie managed a small chuckle. “See, you have the wrong attitude,” she told her friend. “Speaking in Manx should be fun, not a chore. Liz and I chat all the time in Manx.”
“But Liz is good at it,” Doona interjected.
“Because she practices,” Marjorie argued with a smile.
“When is your next class starting?” Rockwell interrupted the argument. “I’ve been thinking I might like to give it a try.”
Marjorie smiled at him. “I try to do four sets of classes every year, rotating around the island,” she told him. “The class that Bessie and Doona are taking has two more classes to go. We were supposed to finish tomorrow, but we had to add a class on to the end because of an unexpected cancellation.”
Bessie and Doona exchanged glances. Neither wanted to remember the events that had led to that cancellation.
“Next week I’ll start the advanced class in Laxey for those who want to go on or those who took the beginning class in the past and want to learn more,” Marjorie continued.
“I don’t think I’ve learned enough to move on yet,” Bessie said. “Maybe I’ll try another beginner’s class, though.”
Marjorie smiled at her. “You could try the advanced class if you want,” she told her encouragingly. “But it does move faster and we cover a lot. You really need to know your basics.”
Doona shook her head. “That lets me out as well,” she said with a sigh. “I’m going to need to retake the first one again as well.”
“Maybe we should all try it together?” Rockwell suggested. “And drag Hugh along as well.”
Bessie laughed. “That could be fun,” she said. “Then when we all get together we could all speak Manx.”
“The next set of classes starts in July in Port Erin,” Marjorie told them. “Then in October I’m teaching them in Peel. If everything goes to plan, I’ll be in Douglas in January and back in Laxey or maybe Ramsey next April.”
“I may just have to wait for next April, then,” Rockwell told Marjorie. “Work is just too uncertain to commit to classes elsewhere on the island.”
Marjorie nodded. “That’s why I move them around,” she told him. “If you’re really interested, though, I’d be happy to send you some of the materials that we use in the classes and you can get started on your own. I’m sure Bessie and Doona with help you with pronunciation and practice with you.”
“I’ll give it some thought,” he promised Marjorie. “And I’ll let you know.”
“Marjorie!”
Every head in the room turned towards the door.
“Marjorie, come here,” Harold was yelling into the room.
Marjorie blushed and shook her head. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked no one in particular as she stood up.
“Hurry up,” Harold shouted, his arms waving as if to hurry her along.
“I’d better go see what’s wrong,” Marjorie told Bessie and the others. “I’m sorry I’m just rushing off.”
Bessie’s polite reply was lost on Marjorie as she rushed from the room behind Harold.
“What was that all about?” Doona demanded.
“I think we’d all like to know the answer to that,” Bessie replied. “I suppose we’ll find out eventually.”
A few minutes later, Harold was back in the doorway.
“Ahem, um, good morning.” He spoke loudly and then paused and waited for the room to grow quiet.
“Ah, yes, well, thank you for your patience this morning. I realise that we’re a little bit behind schedule, but with everything that’s gone on, well, I suppose we’re lucky to be carrying on at all.”
“He’s not going to cancel today, is he?” Doona whispered to Bessie.
“I certainly hope not,” Bessie replied.
“Anyway, there have been some changes to today’s schedule. I just wanted to let everyone know what’s going on. Because of the interruption last night, we wanted to give Paul Roberts and Claire Jamison another chance to present their work. Paul will begin in a few minutes in the Ellan Vannin Theatre downstairs and Claire will be speaking here, in the Kinvig Room.”
“Good for them,” Bessie said quietly. “I just hope they get decent audiences.”
“The series of short talks and the talk by William Corlett that were originally scheduled for this morning will still take place. They have been moved to two o’clock, with the short talks being scheduled for the Ellan Vannin Theatre downstairs. Dr. Corlett will speak in here.”
“But that’s when you’re speaking,” Doona said to Bessie.
“Maybe they’ll put me in the Blundell Room, then,” Bessie said.
Doona frowned but didn’t reply.
Harold continued. “Dr. Cross will
speak at two o’clock as scheduled, however, she will speak in the Blundell Room. Miss Cubbon’s talk will now take place in the Ellan Vannin Theatre at four o’clock and the final concluding remarks by myself and Ms. Stevens will take place in the same location immediately after Miss Cubbon has finished. If anyone has any questions about the schedule, it’s posted on the board just outside of the lifts. I now need to ask everyone to vacate this room so the museum staff can get it ready for the presentations.”
Bessie grinned at Doona. “There, you see, they’ve moved me as well. It’s going to be another long day, though.”
The trio got up slowly and followed the crowd out into the foyer.
Chapter Eleven
“Moghrey mie, Bessie,” Henry whispered to her as she passed him. He was waiting for the room to clear. He had a large wheeled cart that was empty and ready to fill with the plates and cups from breakfast.
“Kys t’ou, Henry?” she asked.
“I’ve been better, I’ll tell you,” he said. “But I can’t tell you right now. I’ve got to get everything sorted out in there and quick.”
“And there you are, Bessie,” the loud voice boomed across the spacious foyer. Bessie forced a smile onto her face as George Quayle crossed the room towards her.
“Hello, George, how are you today?” she asked.
“I’m doing well,” he answered heartily. “You, on the other hand, look well knackered.”
Bessie laughed. “I had a very late night last night,” she told him.
“Oh, aye, we all did, didn’t we?” he replied. “After you took off in the ambulance, the rest of us had to wait around to talk to Inspector Corkill. He did his best, mind, and he didn’t ask much, but it was still late by the time I got out of here. And then, once I got home, well, I just couldn’t get to sleep. I kept thinking about that poor young girl and how upsetting it was, what had happened to her. I called Noble’s first thing this morning, but they won’t tell me how she’s doing.”
Aunt Bessie Considers Page 17