Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (18 page)

“Ah, Bessie, I do hope my husband hasn’t spoiled your enjoyment of
the library,” Mary said as she walked into the room.

Bessie smiled at her.
 
“We’re having a lovely visit,” she told her friend with a wink.

Mary laughed and gave George an affectionate pat on the
shoulder.
 
“I told you to just let
Bessie enjoy the books,” she chided him gently.

“But I wanted to say hello,” George protested.
 
“And I didn’t want her to get bored.”

Mary laughed again, but shook her head.
  
“Of course, dear,” she said
gently.
 
“Are you ready for some
dinner, then?” she asked as she turned to Bessie.

“I’m afraid I’m underdressed,” Bessie replied.

Mary had changed into a lightweight summer suit in a soft pastel
pink. Mary’s shoes and handbag matched exactly and Bessie guessed that the
outfit probably cost more than she spent on clothes in a year.
 

“You look lovely,” Mary said with a wave of her hand.
 
“I’m just using tonight as an excuse to
fuss a little bit.
 
I rarely go out
in the evening.”

Bessie stood up and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her
shirt.
 
“Maybe I should at least run
a brush through my hair,” she suggested.

“Only if you want to,” Mary said.
 
She showed Bessie to a loo across the
hall.
 

Bessie shut the door and stood still in the middle of the room for
a moment.
 
The loo was larger than
Bessie’s sitting room and Bessie couldn’t help but wonder why it needed to be
so large.
 
She dug around in her
handbag, pulling out a comb and a lipstick.
 
She did the best she could with her
appearance, feeling somewhat intimidated by the enormous and ornate mirror that
reflected her image.
 
After another
attempt to mitigate a few of the wrinkles in her outfit, Bessie gave up and
rejoined her friend.

“I look a mess next to you,” she remarked as she followed Mary back
towards the front door.

“I look stiff and stuffy next to you,” Mary countered.
 
“Let’s just go and have fun and not
worry about it.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“You
are a very wise woman,” she told her friend.

“Where should we go?” Mary asked as the two women settled into the
back of one of Mary’s luxury cars.
 

Bessie named one of her favourite Douglas restaurants.
 

“Oh, that’s rather expensive,”
Mary
said.
 
“Are you sure I can’t treat?”

“I’m very sure,” Bessie said firmly.
 
“Tonight is my treat, and you can choose
the restaurant, if you don’t like my suggestion.”

“Oh, I’m happy anywhere,” Mary assured her.
 
She leaned forward and told the driver
their destination.
 
The car moved
quickly and quietly through the streets of Douglas.

“I’ll ring you when we’re ready to be collected,” Mary told the
driver as he helped them from the car.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, nodding at Bessie before he climbed back
behind the wheel.

Inside the restaurant, the host was quick to find them a quiet
table.

“Ah, Mrs. Quayle, what an enormous pleasure and surprise it is to
see you,” he said, fawningly.
 

Within moments their waiter was ready to take their drinks order
and Mary was quick to order a bottle of wine.

“I never get service like this,” Bessie whispered to her as the
waiter rushed away to get the wine.

“I always do,” Mary said with a sigh.
 
“It’s quite tiresome.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“It
seems quite delightful,” she disagreed.

Mary shrugged.
 
Before
she could reply, the waiter was back with the wine.
 
Once he’d poured them each a glass, he
recited the specials.

“We’ll need a moment with the menu,” Bessie said.

“Just wave when you’re ready,” he replied.

After a quick discussion of the specials, the two women made their
selections.
 
Bessie set her menu
down and looked around.
 
Their
waiter rushed over before she’d even managed to catch his eye.
 
Once the food was ordered, Bessie turned
to Mary and shook her head.

“I’m beginning to see your point,” she told her friend.

The wine was excellent and the food arrived quickly and was perfectly
prepared and presented.
 
One bottle
of wine turned into two as Bessie and Mary enjoyed talking about anything and
everything together.

“Crème
brulee
,” Mary announced as the
waiter cleared her plate.
 
“I
absolutely need crème
brulee
.”

 
“Oh, me too,” Bessie
said.
 
“That’s sounds just perfect.”

“What’s it like living on your own?” Mary asked Bessie as they
waited.

“I’m not sure I know how to answer that,” Bessie replied.
 
“Especially since I’ve had a great deal
of wine.”

Mary laughed.
 
“When I
drink I start to wonder why I married George,” she told Bessie in a
whisper.
 
“Sometimes I think living
all alone must be wonderful.
 
I’m
quite jealous of your little flat.”

“But you love George,” Bessie objected.

“Yes,” Mary said slowly.
 
“I suppose I do.”

Bessie wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
 
She didn’t want to encourage Mary to
tell her things she might regret talking about later.

“I lived with my parents until I married George,” Mary said
now.
 
“And once we were married, we
had
Georgie
six months later.
 
After the children came the staff, as
well.
 
The more money George made,
the more staff he wanted around.
 
I’m afraid I’ve quite forgotten how to cook or clean or iron.”

“You’re welcome to come and clean my cottage any time you like,”
Bessie offered with a laugh.

“To be honest, I’m not very good at it,” Mary confided.
 
“My parents had staff as well.
 
When George and I were first married, we
could only afford part-time help and I had to do some bits and pieces, but that
didn’t last long.
 
And once the
children started coming, I didn’t have time to do anything but look after them,
anyway.”

“I suppose it’s lucky George was so successful, then,” Bessie
suggested.

“Yes, well, some of the money is mine,” Mary said.
 
“But then George only married me for my
money.”

Bessie gasped.
 
“You
don’t mean that,” she said.

Mary shrugged.
 
“It’s
probably the wine talking,” she admitted.
 
“But I do wonder.
 
We’re
nothing alike, George and I, and I can’t imagine why he married me sometimes.”

“Opposites attract,” Bessie put forward.

“I was so madly in love that I never thought about it,” Mary
confided.
 
“He completely swept me
off my feet.
 
He was so charming and
smart and funny, and I was overwhelmed.
 
I was deliriously happy in those early days.”

“I’m told that sort of love never lasts,” Bessie said cautiously.

“No, I suppose it can’t,” Mary said.
 
“But we were always very happy, anyway.”

“And you still are,” Bessie said, anticipating the reply she would
get.

“Yes, well, I don’t know about that,” Mary said.
 

“Mary, I’m happy to listen to anything you want to tell me, but I’m
not sure I’m the right person to talk to about this.
 
Maybe you should talk to one of your
friends who’s married herself.”

Mary shook her head.
 
“You’re the perfect person for me to talk to,” she told Bessie.
 
“Because you have a totally different
and unique perspective on things. And because I know you won’t repeat anything
I say.”

“That’s true,” Bessie acknowledged.

“Anyway, I’m not telling you anything I haven’t told George a dozen
times this week.
 
We’re drifting
apart and it bothers me.
 
The last
year has been, well, difficult for me and for us as a couple, but George
doesn’t seem to notice or mind.”

“So you’ve only been having problems since you moved to the
island?” Bessie asked.

Mary shrugged.
 
“We
weren’t as close as I might have liked before, but it’s much worse now.
 
George is working at least as much as he
did before he ‘retired’ and he’s spending a lot of time with Grant Robertson,
even though he knows I don’t like the man.”

“You said they’re old friends, right?”

“Yes, from before George moved to the UK.
 
Although I don’t know how close they
were.
 
I never met him before we
moved here.”

“Really?” Bessie asked.
 
“Did they stay in touch over the years?”

“I have no idea,” Mary said with a sigh.
 
“George never mentioned him, but he was
one of our first visitors when we moved back.”
 
She shrugged.
 
“I just don’t like him, but I pretend to
for George’s sake.”

“That can’t be easy,” Bessie murmured.

“I’m looking forward to hearing what you think of him, after
Friday,” Mary continued.
  
“I
think you’re a very astute judge of character.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“I don’t know about that,” she said.
 
“I’ve been introduced to him once or
twice before.
 
I’m certainly not
looking forward to getting to know him better, after everything you’ve said.”

“But it might just be me,” Mary said.
 
“He does take George away from me a
great deal.
 
Maybe I’m just
jealous,” Mary tried to laugh, but the sound was choked.
 

“I thought you moved back here so George could retire,” Bessie
said.

“So did I,” Mary replied.
 
“For the first few months, George only worked a few hours a week and we
spent a lot of time together.
 
He
even started to show an interest in the grandchildren.
 
Since then though, things keep cropping
up.
 
George calls them ‘little
projects,’ and they seem to take more and more of his time.
 
It seems like every time Grant visits, a
new ‘little project’ is added to George’s work load.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“And you’ve told George how you feel?”

“I have,” Mary said, draining her wine glass.
 
“He keeps telling me to be patient, that
he’s just helping Grant out on a few things, but now he’s gone and hired
Michael to help him as well.
 
I know
Michael needed the work, but surely he could have gone to work for Grant, not
George?”

Mary sighed.
 
“I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to complain all night,” she said quietly.

“You haven’t been complaining all night,” Bessie said.
 
“And even if you had been, that’s what
friends are for.
 
I’m just sorry I
can’t help in any way.”

“At least after Friday you can share you thoughts on Grant with
me,” Mary said, a forced smile on her lips.
 
“I’m hoping you hate him.”

“I’ll hate him,” Bessie told her.
 
“Just for you.”

Now Mary managed a genuine smile.
 
“That’s good of you,” she replied.
 
“But I don’t think you’ll have to do it
for me.
 
He’s a really unlikable
person.”

“So why is George friends with him?”

“That’s an excellent question,” Mary said.
 
“He’s usually a better judge of
character.”

The conversation turned back to more general topics as they women
finished the last of the second bottle of wine.
 
Mary rang for their car as Bessie
settled the bill.

“He’s on his way,” she told Bessie.
 
“Maybe we should wait outside.
 
I probably could use some fresh air.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“We did
drink rather a lot of wine,” she said.
 
“Fresh air sounds wonderful.”

The women made their way very carefully out of the restaurant.
 
The evening was still warm and they
enjoyed the short wait for the car.
 
They chatted lightly about nothing as the driver made his way to
Bessie’s cottage.