Aunt Bessie Needs

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Aunt Bessie Needs Page 23

by Diana Xarissa


  “Thank you for explaining things to me,” Bessie said, rising to her feet. “I’ll let you get back to work now.”

  The man nodded. “I just didn’t want you to have the wrong impression of me or of Mary. She probably shouldn’t have shown me the cottage yesterday, but she did so out of kindness.”

  “I’m sure she did,” Bessie replied. She took a step towards the door and then stopped as the door swung open. Stephanie Harris glared at her.

  “Should I ask what you and my husband were talking about?” she said icily.

  “Bessie was thinking about taking out a loan to cover some work she wants doing on her house,” Sidney said, getting to his feet. “Because her circumstances are quite unusual, the branch manager referred her to me.”

  “You weren’t talking about Julie?” Stephanie demanded.

  “Her name never came up,” Bessie said truthfully.

  “But that’s where I saw you before,” the woman said. “You were at the memorial service and then here for the reception for Julie. How did you know her again?”

  “She grew up in Laxey, near where I live,” Bessie replied.

  “We were very close friends for a while,” Stephanie said.

  “Yes, I understand you met in Noble’s.”

  “We did. She was a good friend while I was ill. My husband, he didn’t deal very well with it all.” Stephanie looked over at Sidney and sighed.

  “It can be hard to see someone you love unwell,” Bessie suggested.

  “Maybe.”

  “Why are you here?” Sidney asked his wife.

  “I wanted to see you,” Stephanie replied. “I went by your office at corporate and you weren’t there. They told me you were here today, so I thought I would check to see if they were right.”

  “Of course I’m here,” the man snapped. “I’m working.”

  “Yes, of course you are,” the woman said. “Just like every night and most weekends. Except you aren’t always so easy to track down, are you?”

  “I don’t think we need to have this conversation now,” Sidney said tightly.

  “No, probably not,” Stephanie said cheerfully. “Except there’s never a good time, is there? You’re always so busy.”

  Sidney opened his mouth to reply, but Bessie interrupted. “It was nice chatting with you both,” she said loudly. “But I really need to go.”

  Before anyone else could speak, she marched out the door and down the corridor. Behind her, she heard the door to the office slam. As she pushed her way back into the bank’s lobby she could hear Stephanie starting to shout at her husband.

  “Are those two at it again?” Annabelle asked in Bessie’s ear. “She comes in here at least once a month and starts a screaming row with the man. At least when Julie was here, she could sometimes calm Stephanie down before it went too far.”

  “What is she so upset about?” Bessie asked.

  “She claims he’s been cheating on her for years, which he denies. She claims he stopped loving her when she got sick, which he doesn’t deny,” the girl replied. “I think they stayed together for the children, and then when the kids finally grew up enough that they could separate, she got sick. He stayed with her through it all, but I think he did it out of a sense of obligation more than anything else.”

  “It’s all very sad,” Bessie said.

  “Yeah, and she’s more than a little bit scary when she’s mad.”

  Bessie sighed. She felt like she had more unanswered questions than ever before. Annabelle led Bessie through the lobby, heading for the door. As they reached it, Bessie recognised the man who was about to enter.

  “Pete,” she exclaimed.

  “Bessie, I don’t know why I’m surprised to see you here,” he said. “But I am.”

  “When I left the station, Sidney Harris saw me walking past and asked me to come inside. He wanted to talk to me about a few things,” Bessie explained.

  “Do you need to tell me anything?” the man asked.

  Bessie thought for a minute and then nodded. “I think it might help if I tell you what he said.”

  Pete frowned and then motioned for her to step outside. They walked a few paces away from the building, and Bessie quickly repeated everything that had happened in the bank’s office. When she was done, Pete patted her arm.

  “You’ve had a busy day,” he said. “I suggest you go home and relax now. I’m going to have a talk with both Sidney and Stephanie. Hopefully, that will wrap everything up.”

  Bessie wanted to ask him what Laura had told him, but she knew better. Instead she watched as he and two uniformed constables walked into the bank. While she was tempted to stay to see what was going to happen next, she also really wanted to get home. After a moment of indecision, she turned and walked as quickly as she could to the nearest taxi rank. She was climbing into the taxi when she remembered her books.

  The walk back to the bookshop seemed to take ages, but once she’d remembered them, Bessie couldn’t bring herself to leave the books behind. She was really looking forward to reading them, and the thought that the bored sales assistant might shove them all back on their shelves kept Bessie walking. She only just reached the shop a short time before it was due to close.

  “I didn’t think you were coming back,” the girl said, yawning as she retrieved Bessie’s books for her.

  “The day didn’t exactly go as I’d planned,” Bessie told her. “But I’m here now.” She paid for the books and then, clutching the bag tightly, made her way to a taxi rank. The driver didn’t look pleased when she told him she wanted to go to Laxey.

  “I’m nearly done for the day,” he grumbled. “Laxey is well out of my way.”

  Bessie wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream or cry. She was tired, her feet hurt, and she was pretty sure she’d discovered Julie Randall’s murderer. The last thing she wanted to do was listen to anyone complain about anything.

  “Laxey Beach,” she said sharply. “Treoghe Bwaane.”

  “Whatever that means,” the man muttered as he started the car. Bessie sat next to him in silence for nearly the entire journey. It was only when he reached the outskirts of Laxey and it became apparent that he had no idea where he was going that she spoke.

  “Here we are, then,” he said eventually as he pulled into the parking area beside her cottage.

  Bessie handed him some money, including a large tip that she didn’t think he deserved. She did it because she knew she wasn’t quite herself and it was just possible that he was actually a nice man whom she would have liked if she’d given him a chance.

  “Why, thank you,” the man said in surprise. “That’s very generous of you.”

  Bessie nodded and then climbed out of the car. The man waited until she was safely inside her cottage before he drove away. Bessie couldn’t help but hope that he might get just the tiniest bit lost on his way home.

  Feeling as if her tea with Laura had been days ago, Bessie quickly made herself some dinner, pacing around the kitchen as the frozen lasagne reheated. She sat down to eat with one of her new books, but had trouble concentrating. The rest of the evening was frustrating for her as she kept expecting either Pete or John to ring with news. The phone was stubbornly silent and Bessie’s mind refused to focus on anything.

  Around ten o’clock, feeling bad-tempered and cross with the world, Bessie took herself off to bed. She tossed and turned for what felt like most of the night, finally coming awake at six, grateful to start the day. Before she even turned on the shower, she went down to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee brewing. After her shower, having eaten several pieces of toast with honey and washed them down with half the pot of coffee, Bessie set out on her walk.

  The fresh sea air seemed to do more for her than the coffee had, and by the time Bessie had passed the stairs to Thie yn Traie she was feeling better. She turned around before she’d gone much further and headed for home. A light rain was starting to fall as she passed the holiday cottages, but she only picked up h
er pace when she saw the car parked by Treoghe Bwaane. If John was visiting, he must have news.

  Chapter 15

  As Bessie approached, John climbed out of his car. “Good morning,” he greeted her.

  “Good morning,” she replied.

  “I can’t stay long, but Pete has a press conference scheduled for this morning, and he told me I could bring you up to date on the case before I go into the station.”

  “Come in and have some coffee or tea,” Bessie invited him.

  “If you have coffee, I’d love some,” John said. He followed Bessie into the cottage and sat down at the kitchen table. Bessie poured them each a cup of coffee and then dug some biscuits out of the cupboard. She smiled as she sat down across from the man.

  “I hope this means the case is solved,” she said.

  John nodded. “Stephanie Harris has been arrested for Julie Randall’s murder,” he told her. “I suspect her advocate will argue diminished responsibility, but that’s for the courts to decide.”

  “I know she was ill. Were her problems physical or mental?”

  “I believe they were a bit of both,” John replied. “Pete spoke to one of her doctors who insisted that he knew she was having issues but didn’t think she was a danger to anyone. Unfortunately, he was wrong.”

  “And her husband knew she’d done it,” Bessie said.

  “Not according to him,” John said. “He claims he was out for the evening with a friend, and when he got home after midnight, his wife was already in bed. They sleep in separate rooms, so he didn’t actually speak to her until the next morning. When she told him that she’d gone to bed at eight o’clock, he claims that he believed her.”

  “And gave her an alibi.”

  “I suspect that at the time he was more worried about his own alibi than hers,” John said dryly. “He was out with the wife of one of his close friends and he was hoping no one would find out.”

  “How many women was the man involved with?” Bessie asked, amazed.

  “According to him, he is just friends with any and all other women. He denies any intimacy with anyone other than his wife. I suspect when we talk to more of the women involved, we may hear a different story.”

  “What about Mary Landers?”

  “She’s also denied that they were anything more than friends. Pete is inclined to believe her, as well. She had permission from Maggie to show the cottage to Sidney on Tuesday morning, but Maggie never told Thomas.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I quite liked her, even though we only spoke for a few minutes.”

  “Mary told Pete that Sidney did hug her and she suspected that he was hoping for more, but she insists that she turned him down flat.”

  “So was he involved with Julie or not?” Bessie asked.

  “That’s the question that Pete would most like to have answered,” John told her. “He says no, but Stephanie says yes. Apparently she hired someone to follow him, and the man supplied her with some photos.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Pete’s seen them and he says the woman in them could be Julie, but it could also be Laura, Mary Landers, or just about any other middle-aged brunette on the island. It’s also worth noting that the photos show Sidney and the woman having dinner together, but there’s no sign of any intimacy in any of them. Apparently, in spite of that, they were enough to drive Stephanie over the edge.”

  “And when she saw them, she assumed the woman was Julie,” Bessie said. “Which means Julie may have been killed for something she didn’t do.”

  “Or she may have been killed for having dinner with Sidney in a perfectly innocent context,” John added.

  “This is going to be really hard on Humphrey,” Bessie said.

  “At least he’ll know that his wife’s killer is behind bars.”

  “Yes, I suppose that’s something.”

  “From what Pete can work out, after she saw the pictures, Stephanie became obsessed with Julie. She started following her around. Presumably that’s when she learned about the alley behind Julie’s building, if she didn’t already know about it. On the night of the murder, she simply went and stood in the alley and waited for Julie to come home.”

  Bessie shuddered. “But how did she know that Julie would be coming home through the alley?”

  “She knew Julie was going to see a film with her friends because she was supposed to join them. Instead, she told Julie she had a headache and then went and waited. I believe she just got lucky, really, that Julie decided to park in the alley and pop home to collect Humphrey.”

  “But, of course, they were good friends,” Bessie said. “She probably knew that Julie was likely to do that.”

  “She probably did,” John agreed. “Pete suspects that that wasn’t the first night she spent hiding in the alley waiting for Julie. He thinks she may have been doing it fairly regularly, waiting for her chance.”

  Bessie shivered again. “Poor Julie. Laura was lucky she didn’t get killed by mistake as well.”

  “She was. And I’m not sure we would have found Stephanie if it had been Laura who’d been killed.”

  Bessie nodded. “Laura is probably leaving the island,” she told John.

  “I heard. Pete told me that after he talked to her yesterday. Apparently she’s hoping to get a job across that she thinks will suit her better.”

  “Yes, that’s what she told me.”

  “What does Henry think?”

  “He’s sad, but I think he’s also relieved,” Bessie replied after a moment’s thought. “I’m sure it was odd for him, having a girlfriend after being single for fifty-odd years.”

  Bessie was only a little bit worried about Henry over the next few days. She was more interested in the case against Stephanie Harris as it unfolded. After Pete’s press conference, the woman who had been in the photos with Sidney came forward. She was another of Sidney’s friends’ wives, and she insisted that their relationship was as innocent as the photos made it appear. Apparently, she and Sidney had actually been waiting for her husband to join them that evening, and if the photographer had stayed for a few minutes longer, he would have seen the man’s arrival.

  By the end of the week, John was able to report that Stephanie had been sent to a secure facility off-island. “She’s distraught that she killed her friend by mistake,” John told Bessie. “We thought the case might be about mistaken identity, and we were right in the end, although not at all the way we thought we might be.”

  The following Tuesday, Bessie and Doona headed for class. “I don’t think I’ve said a single thing in Manx all week,” Bessie said, suddenly anxious about the class ahead.

  “I haven’t either,” Doona told her. “John’s been out of the office, helping out in Douglas with the Stephanie Harris case, so he hadn’t been nagging me to practice. I haven’t seen much of Hugh, either, really.”

  “We could practice now,” Bessie suggested.

  “Or we could just hope that Marjorie’s in a good mood and doesn’t get too angry with us,” Doona retorted.

  When they reached the church, Bessie was surprised to find that Henry was already there.

  “I hate being late,” he said. “But Laura, well, she was never ready to go. She’s across at the moment, having that interview. I don’t think she’ll take any more classes, even if she doesn’t get the job. She’s going back across as soon as she finds something. She doesn’t need to learn Manx.”

  When everyone had arrived, Marjorie stood at the front of the room. “Tonight we’re going to try something different,” she said. “We’re going to break up into small groups and just try chatting together. Liz will work with one group and I’ll work with the other. We’re going to introduce different topics and work on appropriate, or mostly appropriate, replies. I’m hoping that will be more fun for you all than listening to me talk.”

  For the first half hour Bessie felt overwhelmed. Slowly, after many mistakes, however, she began to feel as if she could actually hold a short co
nversation. During the break, everyone kept trying to talk mostly in Manx, and for once it didn’t feel like a chore. The last hour of class flew past as Liz sat and worked with them on everything they’d already learned and more. By the end of the evening, Bessie was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, she’d managed to learn a little bit of Manx.

  Glossary of Terms

  Manx to English

  arran — bread

  bainney — milk

  caashey — cheese

  caffee doo — black coffee

  Craad t’ou cummal? — Where do you live?

  Doolish — Douglas

  fastyr mie — good afternoon

  feer vie — very good

  gura mie ayd — thank you

  kys t’ou — How are you?

  moghrey mie — good morning

  ooylyn — apples

  spollagyn — chips (french fries in the US)

  ta mee braew — I’m fine

  House Names – Manx to English

  Thie yn Traie — Beach House

  Treoghe Bwaane — Widow’s Cottage

  English to American Terms

  advocate — Manx title for a lawyer (solicitor)

  aye — yes

  bin — garbage can

  biscuits — cookies

  bonnet (car) — hood

  boot (car) — trunk

  car park — parking lot

  chemist — pharmacist

  chips — french fries

  cuppa — cup of tea (informally)

  dear — expensive

  estate agent — real estate agent (realtor)

  fairy cakes — cupcakes

  fizzy drink — soda (pop)

  holiday — vacation

  jumper — sweater

  lie in — sleep late

  midday — noon

  nan — grandmother

  pavement — sidewalk

  petrol (car) — gasoline

  power cut — power failure

  primary school — elementary school

 

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