Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 4

  “I don’t suppose she will,” Bessie said tartly. “And it’s Miss Cubbon.”

  “Yes, well, ahem, well, anyway, I’m just looking at my diary and I can show you that flat on Monday morning at nine if that suits you.”

  “Not until Monday?” Bessie asked, making her annoyance evident in her tone.

  “Yes, well, I’ll put the particulars in the post to you today, along with the details for a few other properties in the area. You should get them tomorrow or Friday, and that will give you the weekend to look them over before we meet.”

  “I suppose that will have to do,” Bessie said grumpily. “If you can’t manage anything sooner.”

  “I’m sorry, but I really can’t,” the man replied. Bessie wasn’t convinced that he was genuinely sorry, but she couldn’t argue. At least she had an appointment, even if it wasn’t as soon as she’d like.

  “By the way,” the man continued. “You mentioned having a friend in the building. To whom were you referring?”

  “Why does that matter?” Bessie asked.

  “We always like to thank people who send business our way,” the man replied smoothly. “For instance, if you were to purchase the flat in question, Island Choice Properties would send a gift basket to the person who referred you.”

  “Oh, well, I know a few of the residents in that building,” Bessie said after a moment’s thought. “It was Howard Mayer who suggested I look at the flat. I understand he’s just down the hall from the available unit.”

  “I’ll just make a note of that,” the man said. “I’m afraid I don’t know anyone in the building myself, of course.”

  “I understand, from my conversation with Mr. Mayer, that there’s a second unit that’s also empty in the building,” Bessie said, trying to keep her tone casual. “I’d love to have a look at that unit as well. I understand that that one is on the ground floor, which might suit me better.”

  “I’m afraid I only have the listing for the one unit for sale,” Alan told her. “We’re listing flat number ten, but I’ll certainly see what I can find out before Monday and if there is a second unit, I’ll try to get the information for you.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Bessie told him. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t given him Bahey’s name, but it was too late now to change her mind. Since she wouldn’t be buying the flat, Bahey wouldn’t be missing out on the gift basket, anyway.

  With the call out of the way, Bessie could now walk up the hill to the small shop at the top. She hated shopping there, as the shop assistant was rude and rather thick, but it was the only place she had time for today. She was surprised to see Anne Caine behind the till when she arrived.

  “Anne? But what are you doing here? I thought you’d given up this sort of work for good,” Bessie exclaimed.

  Through some very long overdue good fortune, Anne had recently come into enough money that she no longer needed to work. The last Bessie had heard, the forty-something woman was taking a much-deserved rest and thinking about going back to school.

  “Oh, I’m just helping out now and then,” Anne told Bessie. “I do a few hours on Mondays and Wednesdays in the afternoon while the owner’s daughter is in school. Apparently she’s finally decided she wants more out of life than a job in her dad’s convenience store, so she’s taking classes in hairstyling and that sort of thing.”

  “I hope they teach her some manners as well,” Bessie muttered as she scanned the shelves for inspiration.

  Anne laughed. “I think that might be a lost cause,” she told Bessie.

  “Well, anyway, I’m glad I can start shopping here again, at least on Mondays and Wednesdays,” Bessie told her friend. “I haven’t been buying my lottery tickets lately and I’ve been having to buy extra loaves of bread on my big weekly shop in Ramsey to freeze some. This way I can get fresh when I need it.”

  “Always happy to help,” Anne laughed. “But if you win the lottery you do have to share your winnings with me.”

  Bessie laughed. “What would you do with even more money?” she teased.

  Anne smiled. “You’re right. I do rather feel as if I’ve already won the lottery after my recent good fortune. More than anything else, I’m just so glad that Andy now has a chance to do what he’s always dreamt of doing.”

  “How is Andy?” Bessie asked, recalling the handsome young man who’d spent a great deal of time in her spare room as a child.

  “He’s doing very well,” Anne assured her. “He’s only here for a few more weeks and then he’s off to catering college in Leeds. He’s ever so excited about it. I just hope it’s as wonderful as he’s expecting it to be.”

  “Tell him he must stop and see me before he goes,” Bessie told her. “I’ll cook dinner for him, and he can bring pudding.”

  Anne laughed. “I know he’ll love that,” she told Bessie, promising to pass along the message.

  Back at home, Bessie quickly threw together a lasagne for Doona and herself. She’d bought a tub of ice cream at the shop, so that would have to do for a sweet course. She simply couldn’t be bothered to make anything. With dinner in the oven, Bessie settled down with a book, but she was interrupted only a few minutes later by a knock on the door.

  “Spencer? What brings you here?” she asked the bald and plump fifty-something man who was standing on her doorstep.

  The man flushed and looked at the ground. “I was just, well, I brought these for Doona,” he said, thrusting a huge bouquet of flowers at Bessie. “She said she was having dinner with you tonight, but I’d already bought them, so I thought I would just leave them with you.”

  “Oh, right, well, that’s fine,” Bessie said, feeling unexpectedly flustered. “Would you like to come in for a few minutes? I could make you a cup of tea.”

  “I’d love to, if you don’t mind,” Spencer replied. He followed Bessie into the kitchen so closely that Bessie nearly tripped over him.

  “Please sit down,” she told the man. “I’ll just find somewhere to put these,” she said. She set the flowers down on the counter and dug around in a cupboard for the vase she knew she had somewhere. It had been a while since she’d used it, but it was exactly where she remembered putting it. She filled it with water and dropped the flowers into it.

  “There, now, what about some tea?” she said, mostly to herself.

  “Doona said you have something important to discuss with her,” Spencer said, his tone anxious. “I hope, I mean, I’ve really been enjoying spending time with her. I hope she isn’t just trying to put me off.”

  “We do have some rather important things to talk about,” Bessie told him after she’d filled the kettle. “And they really can’t wait, either, unfortunately. I’m awfully sorry that you had to change your plans for tonight, though.”

  “It’s okay,” Spencer said, waving a hand. “We’ve had dinner together for the last two nights and I’m quite sure Doona is ready for a break from me. I get rather too intense in relationships. I’m trying to learn to be more relaxed, but it doesn’t come naturally to me.”

  “When do you go back across?” Bessie asked, aware that the man was only meant to be on a two-month holiday, which he was spending in the rental cottages down the beach from Bessie.

  “Early next month,” Spencer replied in a gloomy tone. “I’m not looking forward to it, either. When I was a kid, I thought living across would be wonderful, but now, having done it for fifteen-odd years, I’m ready to come back to the island. It’s the one place in the world that truly feels like home.”

  “I felt that way as well, when I came back,” Bessie told him. “Even though I’d moved to the US when I was only two. When I came back here at seventeen, the island felt like where I wanted to be. Of course, if things had gone differently, I’d have ended up back in the US, but now I can’t imagine that.”

  “I can’t imagine you anywhere but here,” Spencer said. “You’ve been a fixture on Laxey beach for as long as I can remember.”

  “I know you initially mo
ved across on a transfer for your work. Do they still need you over there or is there a chance you could move back?”

  Spencer shrugged. “I don’t actually work for that company anymore,” he told Bessie. “I’m sort of between jobs at the moment. I’d been planning this holiday for the last year and just before I was due to travel, I got made redundant. Since everything was already paid for, I decided to come and have my holiday anyway. As soon as I get back home, of course, I shall have to start sending out my CV to all and sundry.”

  “Maybe you should be looking for jobs over here,” Bessie suggested.

  “I’ve thought about it,” Spencer told her. “I guess I’m just dragging my feet and trying not to think about the whole issue. You’re right, I should be applying for jobs here. I’d love to move back, but it’s easier to play golf and sit on the beach and pretend that I still have a job to go back to in a few weeks.”

  “Perhaps you should dust off your CV tonight, since your plans with Doona were cancelled,” Bessie said. “I can lend you a typewriter if you want to borrow one.”

  Spencer laughed. “I have my laptop with me,” he told her. “I should make a start. Maybe Doona will take me more seriously as a suitor if I’m looking to stay here, rather than leaving soon.”

  “I’m not sure Doona is looking for a suitor,” Bessie said, choosing her words carefully.

  “I know, she’s been totally upfront with me about everything,” Spencer said gloomily. “She’s not really looking for anything more than a friend. But she’s an attractive and interesting woman and I can’t help it. I’m really falling for her.”

  Bessie sighed and poured the tea. “I wish I could give you some advice,” she told the man. “But I’m the wrong person to ask about romance.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Spencer told her. “You must have seen a lot of relationships succeed or fail over the years, and you’re Doona’s closest friend. I’m sure you could give me great advice. I’m just probably too dumb to take it.”

  “It seems to me,” Bessie began cautiously, “that you’re at something of a crossroads in your life right now. I think maybe you should focus on figuring out what you want to do before you worry about getting another person involved.”

  Spencer nodded. “You’re right, of course,” he said. He sipped his tea and then bit into a biscuit. After a moment he smiled at Bessie.

  “I’m going to go back to my cottage and get to work on finding a job,” he said. “I understand the banking industry is growing quickly on the island at the moment. And I don’t need a work permit, which might just give me a small advantage.”

  “I did hear that the work permit committee is quite backed up,” Bessie told him. “It’s taking months for them to approve permits at the moment, and some companies are getting quite frustrated. Not needing one should be a real plus.”

  “I’m not sure I can afford to buy a house back here, of course,” Spencer said thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine I’ll make enough from the sale of my little place across to be able to buy anything here. House prices are quite ridiculous as the moment.”

  “They are quite mad,” Bessie agreed. “But there are still bargains around if you’re happy to do some renovations.”

  “That’s a thought,” Spencer said. He finished his tea and grabbed another biscuit.

  “I’ll just take this one for the walk back to my cottage, if you don’t mind,” he told Bessie.

  “That’s fine,” Bessie laughed.

  “I’m quite eager to get back there now,” he said. “I’m going to start working on my CV and maybe make a few phone calls as well. Maybe I can line up a few interviews before I head back home.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t actually remember what you do,” Bessie said apologetically.

  “I work in IT,” he told Bessie. “Mostly in systems management.”

  Bessie laughed. “I’m not sure I know what that is, but let me give you a few names, anyway.”

  She tore a sheet of paper off the tablet she kept by the phone and copied down the names and phone numbers of three people from her address book.

  “I don’t know if any of them will be able to help,” she told Spencer. “But if they can’t, they might know someone else who can.”

  “I can tell them you gave me their names?”

  “Of course,” Bessie laughed. “I don’t know if that will help or hurt you, but you can certainly tell them that.”

  “Ah, Aunt Bessie, thank you so much,” Spencer said, giving Bessie a hug. “This could be just the break I need.”

  “Just be sure you’re thinking of moving here because it’s what you want,” Bessie cautioned him. “Don’t be thinking you’re moving so that you can be with Doona. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  Spencer frowned. “I wish I could disagree with you, but I think you might be right. I do enjoy her company, though. I hope we can still go out while I’m here and maybe, if I do move here, she’ll give me a proper chance.”

  He looked at Bessie and laughed. “From the look on your face, maybe not,” he said with a shrug. “Never mind, I’m definitely wanting to move back for me, so that’s okay.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Bessie told him.

  With Spencer out of the way, Bessie checked on the lasagne, which was bubbling away nicely in the oven. She switched the oven off and left the lasagne in it to stay nice and warm. Doona was due in about half an hour and Bessie wasn’t sure what to do with the time.

  The book she had been reading didn’t really appeal. She looked out the window at the afternoon sun shining on the beach. She headed out the back door and walked to the water’s edge, barefoot.

  The water was cold, the sea never really got warm, but it felt good as it splashed against her legs. She waded in a short distance and simply stood, eyes closed, and enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on her face and the cold water at her feet.

  Bessie could hear excited children shouting and shrieking as they played on the beach in front of the holiday cottages. In spite of the fact that the entire beach was a public one, for some reason the families in the cottages generally seemed to stay right in front of their temporary homes, rather than spread out towards the stretch of beach behind Bessie’s house.

  After a few minutes, Bessie sat down on the large rock that was behind her house. Its base was currently partially submerged, as the tide had only just begun going out. She turned to watch the holidaymakers for a short time before turning back to simply watch the sea. So many upsetting and unsettling things had happened in Bessie’s life recently. While she used to lose herself in books, she now found more comfort in simply sitting and watching the water. She still read a great many books each month, but the sea calmed her anxious spirit in ways that books did not.

  When she heard a car pull into the small parking area beside her cottage, Bessie climbed down off the rock. She smiled when she recognised Doona’s sensible sedan. Her friend was just climbing out and she spotted Bessie as she did so.

  “I brought an apple pie,” she called to Bessie after she’d shut her car door. “I hope that’s okay.”

  Bessie grinned. “It’s just about perfect,” she replied.

  Chapter Three

  Bessie opened the door and the two friends made their way into Bessie’s kitchen. The whole room smelled of garlic and tomato sauce.

  “What did you make that smells so wonderful?” Doona asked as she set the pie on the counter.

  “It’s just a lasagne,” Bessie told her. “It was fairly quick and easy and it sounded good.”

  “Well, it smells amazing,” Doona replied. “Is it ready?”

  Bessie laughed. “It should be.” She pulled the dish out of the oven and put it down on the counter. She could see through the clear glass of the casserole dish that it was done.”

  Doona pulled down plates and quickly set the table with flatware. “Your flowers are beautiful,” she commented to Bessie as she did so.

  “Thanks, but the
y’re your flowers,” Bessie told her.

  “What do you mean, they’re my flowers?” Doona asked.

  “Spencer dropped them off for you earlier,” Bessie explained. “He’d already bought them for you for tonight and he didn’t want them to go to waste.”

  Doona sighed. “You’ll keep them, won’t you?”

  “But they’re lovely,” Bessie protested.

  “Yeah, so were the ones he gave me last night and the ones he gave me the night before. I understand that he’s trying to be romantic, but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.”

  Bessie laughed. “If you’re sure you don’t want them, I’ll happily keep them,” she told her friend.

  “What did you and Spencer talk about, then?” Doona asked as Bessie slid generous squares of lasagne onto plates.

  “Lots of things,” Bessie said, deliberately vague.

  “You’re not going to leave it at that, I hope,” Doona said with a grin as she carried the plates to the table.

  Bessie poured iced tea for them both and then carried the glasses to the table, where she joined Doona. “No, I’m not going to leave it at that,” she laughed.

  “This is delicious,” Doona told Bessie, interrupting the conversation about Spencer. “Why is it so much better than mine?”

  Bessie shrugged. “I make my lasagne American-style, with cheese layers instead of béchamel sauce,” she told Doona. “That might be why it tastes different.”

  Doona nodded. “I like it a lot. You’ll have to give me the recipe so I can try it at home.”

  “Remind me,” Bessie said.

  “I definitely will,” Doona replied, forking up another bite.

  The pair ate silently for a moment. It was only when plates were empty that Doona restarted the conversation.

  “So what did you and Spencer discuss, exactly?” she asked.

  “He was telling me how he’s between jobs right now,” Bessie replied. “I encouraged him to start job hunting here if he thinks he might want to move back. There’s no point in waiting until he gets back across and then sending applications over. He’d be better off trying to get interviews before he goes.”