Aunt Bessie Joins (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 10) (25 page)

“Oh, no, we were just talking in circles
anyway,”
John
said.
 
“We need a breakthrough of some kind, I
just wish I knew what.”

“Maybe my talk with Carolyn will help,”
Bessie said.

“Every little bit of information helps,”
John
told her.

“These are wonderful,” Bessie said to
Doona
after she’d eaten her first bite of a mince pie.
 
“Maybe I won’t bother making any this
year and just enjoy yours.”

“I can’t believe how nice these cookies
are,”
Doona
countered.
 
“Why don’t the British do cookies?”

“I have no idea,” Bessie told her.
 
“Of course this is just a small
sampling.
 
My sister used to make
dozens of different varieties every year.”

“I didn’t know there were that many types of
cookies,” John said.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,”
Bessie
replied.
 
“She used to send me her
two or three
favourite
new recipes every
Christmas.
 
I must have fifty or
more cards from her from over the years.”

“What could be better than these?”
Doona
asked, taking another chocolate chip cookie.

“Gingerbread, spritz, snowballs,
thumbprints, double chocolate chip, oatmeal, peanut butter,” Bessie
laughed.
 
“I went through the
recipes today and those are just the ones I remember.
 
There are so many more.”

“Maybe once the holidays are over, I’ll
borrow a few recipes,” John said.
 
“I’d like to do more baking and cooking with the kids when they’re
here.
 
Cookies seem like they might
be fun.”

“They are fun,” Bessie agreed.
 
“But they take time.
 
You can only bake a dozen at a time on a
tray, and most recipes make four or
five dozen
.
 
They also need a lot of watching.
 
Most of them are quite thin and can burn
very quickly.
 
I’ll lend you a few
of the easiest recipes to start with and you can work your way up to the more
complicated things.”

“Or maybe I’ll just stick to the easy ones,”
John said.

“I’d love to borrow the chocolate chip
recipe,”
Doona
said.
 
“But I don’t think I can.
 
I don’t think I could be trusted to have
them in the house.
 
I’d just eat
them all.”

“Or you could bring them to me, like you did
the mince pies,” Bessie suggested.

“I live closer to you than Bessie does,”
John pointed out with a smile.

Doona
laughed.
 
“I actually stopped at your house
first,” she told him.
 
“But you
weren’t home.
 
I have a plate of mince
pies in the car for you as well.”

“I should stop eating all of Bessie’s then,”
John said.

“I’ll be making more,” Bessie told him.
 
“I have to do the mince pies tomorrow,
actually.
 
I told Mark that I’d
bring some to the castle on Thursday for all of us hard workers to enjoy as we
get everything ready.”

When both plates were empty, John sat back
from the table and sighed.
 
“This
has been wonderful,” he said.
 
“But
I have to get home.”

“I do, too,”
Doona
said.
 

John stood up and began to stack dirty
dishes by Bessie’s sink.

“I’ll just do the washing-up before I go,”
Doona
said.
 

“Don’t be silly,” Bessie replied.
 
“I can manage a few plates and
cups.
 
You both need to get home and
get some sleep.”

John insisted on helping
Doona
,
though, and the pair quickly had Bessie’s kitchen back in order.
 

“Before you go, you must see my tree,”
Bessie exclaimed as the pair finished.

“Oh, Bessie, it’s lovely,”
Doona
said, clearly delighted.
 
“I’m so glad you decorated this year.”

“I think ‘Christmas at the Castle’ has been
a good influence,” Bessie replied.
 
“I felt like I had to do my part.”

“It’s really nice,” John said.
 
“Since I won’t be here for Christmas,
really, I didn’t do any decorating at my house.
 
Maybe I should have put up a small tree,
though.
 
It makes such a
difference.”

“This stocking looks very old,”
Doona
remarked, holding up Bessie’s stocking.

“It’s from my childhood,” Bessie told
her.
 
“I thought it made a nice
extra decoration.”

“It does,”
Doona
agreed.
 
“And so do all those
presents.”

Bessie looked down at the pile of gifts
under the tree.
 
“Somewhere under
there are one or two things with your names on them,” she told the pair.
 
“But you shall have to wait for
Christmas Day to have them.”

Doona
made a token protest, but Bessie could tell
she was just pretending to be upset.
 
Waiting for Christmas made the season much more special, especially for
adults.

Bessie showed her friends to the door and
let them out.
 
She watched, smiling
to herself, as
Doona
handed a plate of mince pies to
John.
 
John waited until
Doona
was safely in her car and driving away before
following.
 

“That might just still work out,” Bessie
said aloud as she locked her door.
 

Upstairs, she got ready for bed and then
read for a short while.
 
She’d found
a few mysteries set at Christmas from her collection, so now she lost herself
in someone else’s Christmas case.
 
It was nice to forget about Christopher Hart and Michael Beach for a
short while, anyway.

Chapter Thirteen

After her usual morning routine, Bessie got
busy making her mince pies.
 
In the
past, she’d often made her own mincemeat, but this year she simply hadn’t had
the time.
 
When the pies were in the
oven, they filled the house with the smell of spices and pastry.
 
Bessie smiled to herself.
 
The ones
Doona
had brought had been very good, but her own would taste better, just because
she’d done them herself.

While they were cooling, Bessie took another
short walk, as she was unlikely to find time to do so later in the day.
 
She walked to the last of the holiday
cottages and then returned home, feeling as if she didn’t want to go as far as
Thie
yn
Traie
and find
herself
with company yet again.
 
By the time her taxi arrived to take her
into Douglas, the mince pies were all carefully put away and the kitchen was
tidy.

Bessie’s least
favourite
driver, Mark, was behind the wheel, and he didn’t move up in her estimation as
he honked from the parking area next to the cottage.
 
Bessie had packed a couple of mince pies
into a bag to give to her driver, but she was so rushed that she forgot to grab
them.
 
Once she was settled into the
passenger seat, she was almost glad she had.

“And how are you today?” Mark asked.

“I’m well.
 
How are you?”

“Oh, just dandy,” Mark said grumpily.
 
“I’ve to take you into Douglas and then
pick up a box at one of the shops and run it up to Ramsey for a customer who’s
too lazy to go down to Douglas herself.
 
Nothing like transporting inanimate objects, is there?”

“At least the box won’t complain about your
driving,” Bessie pointed out, biting her tongue when she was very tempted to do
just that as Mark swerved around a parked car.

“No one complains about my driving,” Mark
told her.
 
“I’m a good driver.
 
I’ve never had a ticket, well, except
for parking tickets, and that’s when I’m not driving.”
 
He laughed at his own joke and Bessie
forced herself to smile.

“So are you ready for Christmas or is this a
big shopping expedition to buy all your presents?” Mark asked.

“I’m done shopping.
 
I’m just meeting a friend for lunch,”
Bessie replied.
 
“Have you finished
your shopping?”

“Oh, I don’t do any of that.
 
That’s the wife’s job.”

“What about a present for her?”

“She’ll buy something she wants and that’ll
be from me.
 
I pay for it, so that’s
fair enough.”

Bessie pressed her lips together.
 
The woman had married Mark; she must
have known what she was getting into.

“I hear you’ve been caught up in another
murder or two,” Mark said.
 
“What is
it with you lately?
 
I’ve been
driving you around for years, and now all of the sudden, everyone you know is
getting murdered.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“None of the cases have had anything to
do with me,” she said firmly.
 
“I suppose
I’ve just been in the wrong place at the wrong time lately.”

“All the time, lately,” Mark said.
 

“Yes, well, it isn’t as if I enjoy it,”
Bessie snapped.

“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Mark
replied.
 
He pulled up on the
Douglas Promenade and stopped.
 
“This close enough to where you’re going?” he asked.

Bessie sighed. She loved to walk, but she
didn’t have a great deal of time before she was meant to be at lunch.
 
If she got out here, she’d need to hurry
to make it on time.
 
She opened her
mouth to protest and then shook her head.
 
“This is fine,” she muttered as she reached for the taxi’s door.

“Happy Christmas to you,” Mark said loudly
as she climbed out.
 
“Don’t forget
when you get your bill that we all appreciate a little Christmas bonus this
time of year,” he added.

Bessie kept her eyes straight ahead, not
wanting to give the man the angry look she felt he deserved.
 
He thought he warranted a Christmas
bonus, did he?
 
At least that
explained why he’d been so chatty on the drive.
 
That was his version of being friendly,
apparently.

By the time Bessie reached her destination,
she had calmed down.
 
Mark was never
going to change and she didn’t have a choice but to put up with him as long as
the taxi firm continued to employ him.
 
The service was always in demand and she simply couldn’t request her
favourite
driver all the time.
 
Dave wasn’t always available.

“I’m meeting a friend,” Bessie told the
host, who led her to a table for two in a quiet corner.
 
Bessie had only just hung her coat on
her chair when Laura rushed in.

“Oh, I knew I was late.
 
I’m so sorry,” Laura exclaimed when she
reached the table.
 
“I didn’t know
exactly how much time to allow for the walk over here and it turns out I didn’t
allow quite enough.
 
I’m terribly
sorry.”

Bessie held up her hand to stop the flow of
words.
 
“I just arrived,” she told
the other woman.
 
“You aren’t late
anyway; I was a minute or two early.”

“I hate making people wait,” Laura said,
blushing bright red as she sat down across from Bessie.

“I’m nearly always early,” Bessie told
her.
 
“But I’m quite content to sit
on my own for a bit, as well.”

“Not me,” Laura said.
 
“I always feel so conspicuous when I’m
sitting on my own in a restaurant.
 
I feel as if everyone is looking at me and thinking that I haven’t any
friends.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I suppose people might think that about
me,” she said.
 
“But I know it isn’t
true.
 
I treat myself to lunch or
dinner out once in a while and I never mind being alone.
 
I always bring a book and enjoy myself.”

“Maybe I should try that,” Laura mused.

“I’m not sure Henry would understand why you’d
want to be on your own, would he?” Bessie asked.

“No, he’s such a dear man, though.
 
I’d never do anything to upset him.”

Bessie swallowed a dozen questions about
Laura’s relationship with Henry.
 
It
really wasn’t any of her business.
 
Bessie did feel quite protective of Henry though, and she worried that
Laura might break his heart one day.

“I hope you two are happy together,” she
said after a moment.

“We are,” Laura told her.
 
“He’s just what I needed after, well,
for my new beginning.”

“How are you finding the island?” Bessie
asked.

“I love it here,” Laura told her.
 
“It already feels like home and I can’t
imagine moving back across now.”

“Do you still have family across?”

“An aunt that I was never close to and a few
cousins I barely know.
 
I’m sure
they haven’t even noticed I’m gone.”
  
Laura laughed, but Bessie thought she saw a flash of pain in the other
woman’s eyes.

“Well, we’re certainly glad you’re here,”
she told the woman.
 
“Henry most of
all.”

The waiter arrived to take their order, and
they requested drinks while Laura looked over the menu.
 

“What’s especially good?” she asked Bessie
after a short time.

“I haven’t had anything here that wasn’t
good,” Bessie told her.
 
“If you
like pizza, they make theirs with a very thin crust.
 
The pasta is excellent and I love their
Bolognese sauce.
 
Whatever else we
get, we have to get some garlic bread.”

When the waiter returned with their soft
drinks, both women ordered the spaghetti Bolognese.
 
Bessie also asked for a plate of garlic
bread.
 

“You’ll love it,” she told Laura.
 
“I’ve never met anyone who didn’t.”

“Is everything at the castle ready for
tomorrow night, then?” Laura asked as they sipped their drinks.

“I think so.
 
We’re all going to spend the afternoon
there tomorrow making sure of it, anyway, though.”

Laura laughed.
 
“You are such a dedicated group of
volunteers,” she said.
 
“Most of the
volunteers I’ve worked with in the past were more interested in being seen to
be helping than actually doing anything.”

“I enjoy a bit of hard work,” Bessie told
her.
 
“Especially when the outcome
is so gratifying.”

“I understand the event has already exceeded
expectations in terms of money raised,” Laura said.
 
“And the auction should bring in quite a
bit more, shouldn’t it?”

“I certainly hope so.
 
We’ve a lot of really wonderful prizes
available.”

“Including the contents of each room,
right?”

“That’s right.
 
Did you want to bid on any of them?”

“I do like the rainbow room,” Laura told
her.
 
“But I can’t imagine what I’d
do with all of those trees and their decorations.
 
I have a one bedroom flat with just
barely enough room for the small tree I put up last week.”

“Yes, I think the room contents will all
have to go to very wealthy people with huge houses to decorate.
 
I know I don’t have the space for any
more decorations than what I already have,” Bessie said.
 
“ Anyway, did you do something similar
in the UK for work?” Bessie changed the subject.

“Yes, I worked for one of the stately homes
in Derbyshire.
 
I did all of their
fundraising and special event planning.”

“I’m always curious what makes people
consider moving to the island,” Bessie said.
 
“It seems like a rather large lifestyle
change.”

“It has been,” Laura agreed.
 
“But I needed a change.”

Bessie nodded.
 
She was grateful that the garlic bread
was delivered
then,
as Laura seemed to be somewhat
upset with the way the conversation was going.

“So what do you like to do, aside from
work?” Bessie asked after they’d both eaten their first slice of hot bread
dripping in melted butter and garlic.
 
“I’m not being nosy, I’m trying to think who you might enjoy meeting
that might have similar interests,” she added.

“I don’t do much, outside of work,” Laura
said apologetically.
 
“I like to
read when I have the time and sometimes I do a bit of cross-stitch, but mostly
I work and then sit and watch
telly
, aside from when
I’m spending time with Henry, of course.”

Bessie kept the conversation light and
general as they finished off the bread and then ate their spaghetti.
 
While she found herself liking the other
woman, she felt as if Laura was deliberately keeping the conversation
superficial.
 
Bessie didn’t want to
push her, as they barely knew one another, but she also wanted to help the
woman if she could.

“I’m sorry you were upset by the situation
at Castle
Rushen
,” she said after she’d insisted that
they order pudding.

“I’m fine, really.
 
I just felt like I needed a change of
scenery,” Laura said, staring into space.

“I hope it hasn’t ruined the castle for
you.
 
It’s a really beautiful
place.”

“It’s one of the finest medieval castles
I’ve ever seen,” Laura replied.
 
“It’s beautiful, but I don’t think I’ll go back until after ‘Christmas
at the Castle’ is all cleared away.”

Bessie reached across the table and patted
the other woman’s hand.
 
“I’m sorry
that you were upset,” she said softly.

Laura looked at her and then blinked back
tears.
 
“Thank you,” she whispered.

Two decadent slices of chocolate cake,
Laura’s
with ice cream and Bessie’s with cream, arrived.

“Oh, this is too much,”
Laura
exclaimed as the plate was placed in front of her.
 
“I’ve been eating mince pies and all
manner of lovely treats lately.
 
I
should have said no to this.”