Aunt Bessie Enjoys (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 5

  “She was comfortably off,” Elinor said from across the table. “Perhaps more so than most of us.”

  Bessie nodded. “And the children are all over the world, aren’t they?”

  “Sarah lives in Port Erin, of course,” Elinor replied. “But she wouldn’t have crossed the street to help her mother. She only happened to find her mother’s body because she was worried about her inheritance.”

  “And the other children?”

  “Fred is in London. He followed in his father’s footsteps and does something in banking. He went to university in London and I don’t think he’s been back on the island since,” Elinor said.

  “I remember Fred vaguely,” Bessie said, thoughtfully. “He was very bright and not very friendly. Nancy’s second son, James, was always my favourite.”

  “James used to come and visit Nancy once in a while, after his father died,” Agnes spoke up. “Once he got married, however, the visits stopped. I don’t think his wife was fond of Nancy.”

  “She wasn’t,” Elinor confirmed. “And Nancy wasn’t about to chase after them, begging for them to stay in touch.”

  “Nancy told me she had a card from them last Christmas and they’ve settled in Cornwall now,” Margaret added.

  “That’s where the wife was from originally,” Elinor said.

  “And the third son?” Bessie asked.

  “Adam?” Elinor laughed harshly. “He moved to Australia on his eighteenth birthday. I don’t think Nancy ever heard from him again.”

  “How very sad,” Doona said.

  “He was nothing but trouble, that one,” Elinor said tartly. “He caused his mother nothing but grief when he was at home. She was lucky he left when he did.”

  Bessie exchanged looks with Doona, but neither responded to Elinor’s comment.

  “If she didn’t have time to change her will, who inherits the estate?” Doona asked.

  Elinor shrugged. “Nancy didn’t say. She told me she wanted to change her will in favour of the group, but she didn’t talk about who she might be disinheriting.”

  “As far as you know, though, she never changed her will?” Bessie asked

  “As far as I know, she didn’t have time,” Elinor said with a sigh.

  “A holiday would have been nice,” Margaret said softly.

  “Well, if everyone’s done with their tea, let’s move back across the hall, shall we?” Elinor announced.

  “I’ll just tidy up,” Agnes told her.

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Bessie said.

  The others headed back across the short hallway, while Bessie donned an apron and began washing the teacups.

  “Ah, Bessie, I’m just not myself today,” Agnes said as she dropped a plate of biscuits.

  Bessie picked up the broken plate and biscuit pieces as Agnes stood and sobbed. Once the mess was cleared away, Bessie gave her friend a hug.

  “Come on, Nancy wouldn’t want you crying over her like this,” she told Agnes firmly.

  “I know,” Agnes said, wiping her eyes with a dishcloth. “But I can’t seem to stop myself. I just can’t believe she’s gone.”

  Bessie patted Agnes’s back, and waited patiently for the woman to calm down. “I am very sorry,” she murmured. “It must have been such a huge shock.”

  “It was,” Agnes agreed. “We had such fun on Tynwald Day. It was almost like old times, you know? Someone brought jam and we were laughing about whether we were going to share it or not. Nancy was worried about the meeting with her daughter, but she tried hard to act like it wasn’t bothering her.”

  “And you don’t have any idea where the jam came from?” Bessie asked.

  Agnes shook her head. “It was there when I arrived,” she told Bessie, wiping more tears from her eyes. “I thanked Nancy for it, but she told me the box had been there when she’d arrived as well.”

  “So who could have left it for you?”

  “I haven’t any idea,” Agnes shrugged.

  “What did you think at the time?” Bessie pressed her.

  “I didn’t think much of anything,” Agnes said, tears running down her face. “I guess, if I had thought about it, I would have thought that one of the others brought the jam and left it there and then snuck away so no one would know for sure who’d brought it.”

  “Elinor said you all used to do that,” Bessie told her, patting Agnes’s back, as the tears didn’t seem to be stopping.

  “We did,” Agnes agreed. “But no one had fussed with homemade preserves in years now. We just haven’t the energy to bother, not when store-bought is nearly as good, anyway.”

  “And all of the jars looked the same?”

  “Exactly the same,” Agnes said. “I didn’t look real closely, though. It simply wasn’t a big deal at the time.”

  “Did you see Nancy pick out a jar?”

  Agnes shrugged. “We just left them in the box at first. We had the table to get set up, you know? Then, later, someone asked what we were doing with the jam, so we all took out a jar or two for ourselves before we started passing them out to other friends.”

  “Did you try your jar of jam?” Bessie asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

  “I did. It was really good, and I was not happy when the police took it away, I can tell you.”

  Bessie smiled. “I don’t suppose you could tell who’d made it?” she asked.

  “That’s clever,” Agnes replied. “I didn’t think of that.” She frowned and Bessie could almost see her thinking hard. After a few moments, Agnes shook her head.

  “Sorry, I don’t know. The jam was good, but there wasn’t anything special about it. I think, if Peggy had made it, I might have been able to tell. She was terrible at making jam. But she’s been dead for what, five years now? The others all make good jam. We all used the same recipe, you know, ever since the first time we made jam as a group.”

  “Was Nancy upset about anything?” Bessie asked. “Was there any reason why she might have taken her own life?”

  “I don’t know,” Agnes replied sadly. “Like I said, she was worried about the meeting with her daughter. They met for tea once every six months or so in downtown Douglas, but other than that, they only spoke on the phone once a month or so. Sarah insisted that they meet, but Nancy said that Sarah was coming for lunch, not first thing in the morning. I’m not sure if Nancy got it wrong or Sarah changed her plans.”

  “If it was murder, who will benefit from Nancy’s death?” Bessie couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  “Just Nancy’s children, I guess,” Agnes said sadly. “But even if the jam was poisoned, I can’t see how the murderer made sure that Nancy got the poisoned jar.” She shook her head. “It’s all muddled up in my head,” she told Bessie. “It’s like the plot of a murder mystery or something, not real life.”

  “Maybe the jar at Nancy’s house wasn’t from the box at Tynwald,” Bessie suggested. “Maybe Nancy got it somewhere else.”

  “Or maybe she made it for herself,” Agnes said with a sigh. “I hate the thought of her killing herself, but nothing makes sense anymore.”

  Bessie helped Agnes into a chair and fixed her another cup of tea. “You relax for a few minutes while I get the washing-up done,” she told the other woman.

  It only took a couple of minutes for Bessie to tidy away the biscuits and wash the teapot and the cups. Once she’d finished everything else, she collected the now empty cup from Agnes and washed it quickly. She was just drying that last cup when Elinor swept in.

  “What on earth is keeping you two?” Elinor demanded, her eyes moving from Bessie to Agnes and back again. “You’ve been ages.”

  “Sorry,” Agnes said softly. “I couldn’t stop crying and Bessie had to step in and do all of the work herself.”

  “You must get yourself under control,” Elinor told Agnes sternly. “Now, we’re all going to say a few words about Nancy. If you aren’t up to joining in, I suggest you head for home.”

  “I think I might
just do that,” Agnes said. “I don’t think I can talk about Nancy right now.”

  “Didn’t you say your doctor gave you some tablets?” Elinor asked. “Maybe you should take one and have a rest. I’ll come by and check on you before tea time.”

  Agnes nodded. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “I’ll do just that.”

  Bessie gave Agnes a hug and watched silently as she headed towards the front of the building. Elinor had taken Agnes’s arm and Bessie could see the pair having a whispered conversation as Elinor walked Agnes to the door.

  Bessie rejoined the others in the small sitting room, and a few moments later Elinor strode in.

  “Agnes has gone home to have a nap,” she announced to the group. “She’s taking Nancy’s death incredibly badly. I suggest we set up a rota and make sure someone is checking in with her regularly for the next few days.”

  Joan walked over to an ancient filing cabinet in one corner and opened the top drawer. She pulled out a sheet of paper and carried it back over to where the group had assembled in a small circle in the centre of the room.

  “I’ll check on her tonight,” Elinor said.

  Joan nodded and then wrote something on the paper.

  “I’ll check on her after breakfast tomorrow,” Joan told the others, adding her name to a space on the sheet.

  “I can take her some lunch tomorrow,” Margaret said quietly.

  “That brings it back to me, then,” Elinor said.

  “I can help,” Bessie interrupted. “I’ll take her something for tea tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, no, we can’t impose on you like that,” Elinor objected. “We’ve been looking after one another for many years. Agnes is our responsibility.”

  “If you can do tomorrow evening, I’ll see if she wants a day out on Friday,” Joan suggested. “Maybe we can go into Douglas and do some shopping and have lunch there.”

  “That might cheer her up,” Elinor agreed. “And then Margaret can check on her some time before bedtime on Friday.”

  “I can,” Margaret agreed.

  “I’ll check on her at breakfast time on Saturday and then I’ll call you all. We can discuss whether we need to keep visiting or not after I see how she is on Saturday,” Elinor said.

  Joan made a few more notes on the sheet. “I’ll just copy this for everyone,” she said. There was a small office in one room of the building that housed a typewriter and a small photocopier. Joan was only gone for a few moments.

  “Did you leave twenty pence?” Elinor asked as Joan handed each of the other ladies a copy of the schedule.

  “I did,” Joan assured her. “I’m sure it’s the mums’ group who use the machine and never pay.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Elinor agreed. “Now, we were all going to share memories of Nancy, so let’s get started.”

  Bessie smiled at Doona, who was looking quite uncomfortable. Of course, Bessie’s friend hadn’t known Nancy at all. Undoubtedly she felt out of place at the gathering. Aware that she herself hadn’t really known the woman well, Bessie wondered if she and Doona should take their leave.

  “Would you prefer us to leave you alone now?” Bessie asked Elinor as an uneasy silence descended on the group.

  “Oh, good heavens, no,” Elinor said. “It’s bad enough there’s only five of us here. I can’t imagine how grim it would be with just the three of us. I’m sure you can come up with some remembrance of Nancy, can’t you?”

  Bessie smiled. “Of course I can,” she said. “I have many fond memories of Nancy.”

  “You may start, then,” Elinor told her.

  “Many of my memories are from when I first met her,” Bessie said, casting her mind back over the decades. “Nancy used to bring her children to the beach near my cottage nearly every day when the weather permitted. She used to tell me that those three little boys of hers needed lots of exercise. Sarah used to sit quietly and build sandcastles while the three boys would run up and down the beach shouting and bashing one another.” Bessie smiled. “Nancy would come over to my cottage for a quick cuppa some days, when the boys were especially rambunctious.”

  “I remember when my husband died, Nancy came over that night and stayed with me for over a week. She helped me get through the worst days of my life,” Margaret told the others.

  “She was there for me when I lost Michelle just before her fourth birthday. I thought I’d never get it over it, but Nancy stayed with me. She kept reminding me to be strong for my other children,” Joan said. “Neither of us expected that she’d have to be there for me again when Mary got sick, but she was. Nancy was very special.”

  “She was indeed,” Elinor said briskly. “She offered to help me when I lost Nicholas and again when Nathan passed.”

  The room fell quiet again.

  “She seemed very lively and fun at Tynwald Day,” Doona offered after a bit.

  “She loved life and she loved helping her friends,” Margaret whispered. “If she were here, she’d know what to say and how to help us get through this.”

  “Well, now, if no one else has anything to add, maybe we should wrap up for today,” Elinor said.

  Bessie and Doona exchanged glances, but neither spoke.

  After a moment, Joan sighed. “I guess that’s it, though it doesn’t seem much after fifty years of friendship,” she said.

  “We’ll all remember Nancy in our own ways, of course,” Elinor said. “But we haven’t all day to sit around talking about her.”

  “They’ll be some sort of service as well, won’t there?” Bessie asked.

  “You’d have to ask Sarah about that,” Elinor replied. “She’ll be handing such things.”

  “And she’ll be having the service in Port Erin, knowing her,” Joan added. “Especially if she thinks that might keep us away.”

  “You were her mother’s closest friends,” Bessie said. “Of course she’ll want you at the service.”

  “She won’t,” Elinor said sharply. “She hated us, especially once Nancy started talking about changing her will in our favour. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t have a service at all.”

  Bessie and Doona gathered up their handbags and walked out of the building with the other ladies. Bessie hugged each one briefly before climbing into Doona’s car.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Doona remarked as she pulled out of the car park.

  “It was sad,” Bessie replied. “I’m sure Agnes has lots of lovely memories of Nancy. It’s a shame she left early.”

  “It was kind of them to sort out a schedule for checking on her, though,” Doona pointed out.

  “It was,” Bessie agreed. “But I think I might just check in on her myself in a day or two. She was very upset while we were tidying up.”

  “I think we need to talk to John about everything that was said,” Doona suggested. “Maybe he’s free tonight.”

  “I could fix something for everyone,” Bessie offered. “Assuming young Hugh comes along as well, I think I can make just about enough food for all of us.”

  Doona laughed. “I’ll talk to John. I’m sure he’ll want to include Hugh if he’s available. I’m not sure what you’ll make to feed us all, though.”

  Bessie grinned. “I have a couple of chickens in the fridge,” she told Doona. “I was going to boil them up and make several batches of soup, but I can roast them instead with some vegetables.”

  “It’s too hot for soup anyway,” Doona replied.

  “It is rather,” Bessie agreed. “Chickens were on special at ShopFast and I grabbed them without thinking. It’s almost too hot to roast them as well, but it sounds good and we have to eat.”

  When they arrived at Bessie’s cottage, Doona pulled out her mobile and made a few quick phone calls.

  “Okay, we’re all set,” she told Bessie when she was finished. “John and Hugh will be here at seven. John said he’d bring something for pudding, and he gave me the rest of the day off. I guess that means I should help you with the chickens.�
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  Bessie laughed. “And don’t you sound thrilled at the prospect,” she said. “Come on in and I’ll get the birds ready and in the oven. Then we can take a walk on the beach and let our minds settle.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Doona agreed.

  Chapter Four

  Bessie wasn’t sure how Doona felt after their walk, but she was refreshed. The sea breeze seemed to blow away a lot of the disquiet she had been feeling since she’d first heard about Nancy’s death. Now back at her little cottage, she worked through the final preparations for the evening meal.

  “Do you mind mashing the potatoes?” she asked Doona as she checked on the Brussels sprouts.

  “Not at all,” Doona answered.

  A knock on the door a moment later interrupted their work. Bessie rushed over to let John and Hugh in. Both men gave Bessie quick hugs as they entered.

  “I brought a rhubarb crumble,” Hugh announced, handing a warm tin to Bessie. “I thought you might pop it in the oven when the chickens come out so it can stay warm.”

  Bessie grinned at him. “You’re becoming quite domestic, aren’t you?” she teased.

  Hugh flushed. “Grace and I have a deal, like. She cooks most evenings, but I make pudding. I’m learning to make all sorts of things.”

  “Where can I find a man that can make puddings?” Doona demanded.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” John asked Bessie.

  “I think we’re just about ready,” Bessie answered. “You can start carving the birds if you like, while Doona mashes the potatoes and I start putting out the veggies.”

  A few minutes later the foursome were settled in at Bessie’s kitchen table with heaping plates of food in front of them. No one spoke for several minutes as chicken, potatoes, stuffing, sprouts, carrots and peas disappeared quickly.

  “That was a big meal for a Wedneday night,” Doona said as she pushed her empty plate away. “But it was delicious.”

  “It’s great,” Hugh agreed, helping himself to another scoop of potatoes. “I should have you teach me how to make this. It would impress Grace for sure.”

  Bessie laughed. “It’s really quite simple,” she told the young man. “Come over some Sunday afternoon and I’ll walk you through the whole thing.”