Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (26 page)

She turned and disappeared back down the corridor before Bessie
could reply.
 
Well, I guess I’m not
going to learn anything from her, Bessie thought to herself as she shut the
door behind Mabel.
 

“Who was that?” Marjorie asked when Bessie returned to the party.

“That was Mabel Carson.
 
She lives in number two and is, apparently, incredibly busy.”

“Oh, she is,”
Simon
confirmed.
 
“She’s in and out all day, every
day.
 
She has a couple of children
here and some across as well and about a hundred grandchildren that she minds
on a moment’s notice.
 
Her kids take
advantage of her, of course, but she seems to thrive on it.”

“That’s why I moved across the Irish Sea,” Ruth said with a brittle
laugh.
 
“My children seemed to think
I loved nothing more than minding their children while they went out and acted
like they didn’t have any responsibilities themselves.
 
I love my grandchildren, but I wasn’t
about to rearrange my entire life so that I could watch them at the drop of a
hat.”

“Ah, Bessie, this has been lovely,” Simon said, putting his arm
around her.
 
“But
Tammara
and I have to rush off, I’m afraid.
 
We’d already made plans for this
evening, before we knew about your little gathering.
 
It’s been wonderful to meet you and I
hope you enjoy living in our little building.”

“Thank you so much for coming,” Bessie replied.
 
“I hope we can get to know each other
better, over time.”

Tammara
gave Bessie an awkward hug as she walked the pair to the door.
 
Bessie pulled it open, startling a woman
who was standing on the other side.
 

“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped, looking from Bessie to the others
and then back at Bessie.

“Hello, Annabelle,” Simon said brightly.
 
“Bessie, this is Annabelle Hopkins. She
lives in number three.”

He grabbed
Tammara’s
hand and the pair
quickly disappeared into the lift, leaving Bessie with the last of the
neighbours
whom she hadn’t met before.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said politely.

“Yes, well, that was very rude of young Simon,” Annabelle said
sniffily
.
 
“Fancy rushing off like that.”

“Apparently he and
Tammara
had plans for
the evening,” Bessie explained.

“At least that’s what they told you,” Annabelle said.
 
She looked down her nose at Bessie, no
easy
feat
as she was only an inch or two taller than
Bessie’s five foot three.
 

Bessie forced herself to smile, an effort aided by the quantity of
wine that she’d already drunk.
 
“I’ve no reason to doubt them,” she said with a shrug.
 
“But do come in and have a drink and
something to eat,” she invited.

“Oh, yes, well, I can’t stay long,” the woman answered.
 
She strode into the flat, leaving Bessie
to follow behind her.
 
Bessie shut
the door slowly.
 
The newest arrival
was almost as thin as Ruth
Ansel
, and looked even
more miserable.
 
Bessie wondered if she
too had come to the island to escape from the demands of her adult children.

Back in the flat, Annabelle was shaking her head firmly at
Doona.
 
After a moment, Doona looked
up at Bessie and shrugged.
 
Bessie
reluctantly joined the pair.

“Ms. Hopkins prefers a different brand of gin for her gin and
tonics,” Doona said in carefully measured tones.

“Ah, that is unfortunate,” Bessie said, suppressing a
deep
sigh.
 
“Perhaps you’d like something else, then?”

Annabelle shook her head.
 
“I’ll just have plain water, please.
 
I assume you have something bottled.”

Bessie forced herself to smile.
 
Thanks to Mary, she had a ridiculous
selection of different bottled waters for the disagreeable woman to choose
from.

“What sort do you prefer?” she asked.
 
There was no way she was going to list
all of the options, only to have the woman claim the only one she drank wasn’t
on the list.

Annabelle pressed her lips together for a moment and then named an
obscure and very expensive brand, giving Bessie a triumphant smile.

“Actually, we do have that,” Bessie replied, turning her head so
that the disagreeable woman wouldn’t see the smile that rose to her own
lips.
 
Bessie dug around in the
refrigerator until she found the right bottle.

“Would you prefer a glass tumbler, rather than plastic?” Bessie
asked.
 
She herself preferred water
in a glass container.

“Yes, thank you,” Annabelle replied, looking somewhat defeated.

Bessie got down a tumbler and then poured half of the contents of
the bottle into it.
 
“I’ll just
leave this in the refrigerator for when you want more,” she told Annabelle.

“Thank you,” the other woman murmured, taking a sip.

Bessie ignored the face the woman made, taking a moment to refill
her own wine glass.
 
She took a
large sip, feeling as if she’d earned it.

“There’s plenty of food,” Doona suggested to Annabelle.

“Oh, no, thank you,” the woman replied.
 
“I never eat food I haven’t prepared
myself.”

“Do you have allergies?” Doona asked.

“No,” was the woman’s reply.

Bessie bit back a dozen replies before Bertie interrupted.

“Ah, Bessie, my dear, I’m having such a good time,” he said, fixing
himself another gin and tonic.
 
“You’re going to be an interesting addition to this building, I can
tell.”

“Bessie, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have to be going,” Marjorie
told her.
 
“Liz’s husband has just
rung and there’s some small crisis at their house.”

Bessie gave each woman a hug.
 
“I hope everything’s okay,” she said anxiously to Liz.

“We’re potty training,” Liz replied, rolling her eyes.
 
“Dear hubby hasn’t quite figured it all
out yet.
 
I’m sure there’s just been
another accident on the couch or something, but he’s in a panic, so home I go.”

Bessie showed the pair out, sorry to see them leave.
 
Now Doona and Mary were the only people
at the party from outside the building.
 
Bessie didn’t want her new
neighbours
to think
she was lacking in friends.
 
It was
a shame that John Rockwell and Hugh were both away, she thought as she rejoined
the group.
 
She’d invited a handful
of other friends as well, but it seemed like nearly everyone she knew was on
holiday off the island at the moment.

She wandered back into the party.
 
“When I went to my postbox earlier, I had
some letters addressed to Hilary Montgomery,” she said to no one in
particular.
 
“Does anyone know who
that is?”

“Hilary?” Bertie asked.
 
“She had this flat before Linda, but she passed on well over a year
ago.
 
Why on earth would she still
be getting post here?”

“Advertisements keep coming forever,” Annabelle said.
 
“I still get catalogues addressed to the
woman who used to have my flat and I’ve lived there for two years now.”

“These weren’t catalogues, though,” Bessie said.
 
“It was proper post, letters with stamps.
 
Some of them looked quite important.”

“You should ask Nigel about them,” Ruth suggested.
 
“He and Hilary were quite close.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Muriel said.
 
“They were friends, that’s all.”

“What happened to her?” Bessie asked, interrupting Ruth before she
could reply.

“She had a heart attack, didn’t she?” Ruth asked.
 
“I’m sure that’s what Nigel told me.”

“I know she died suddenly,” Muriel said.
 
“But I can’t remember what happened
exactly.”

“It was pneumonia,” Bertie said.
 
“She was fine one day and then she
started coughing and two days later she was gone.”

“I don’t remember her coughing,” Ruth said, shaking her head.
 
“I think you’re confusing her with that
woman who lived in number five for a few weeks.
 
She was always coughing every time I saw
her.”

“Oh, her,” Annabelle said with a frown.
 
“She was terribly ill, I think.
 
I tried to speak to her once about the
amount of noise she was making in the corridor, and she was very rude to me.”

“Who needs another drink?” Doona asked loudly.
 
Several people rushed towards her with
their nearly empty glasses, leaving Bessie alone with Annabelle Hopkins.

“Do you know anything about the mirror that seems to move around
the building?” Bessie asked her.

Annabelle shrugged.
 
“I
don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bessie thought about explaining, but decided against it.
 
“My welcome mat keeps flipping over,”
she said instead.
 
“Any idea
who
might be wandering around at night playing little pranks
on us?”

“Perhaps you’re imagining things,” Annabelle replied tightly.
 
“I can’t imagine that any of us have the
time or energy to play pranks on one another.”

Bessie didn’t argue; it didn’t seem worth it.
 
Bertie wandered over to join them, a
very full drink in his hand.
 
It
didn’t stay full for long, though.
 
He took a large swallow and then nodded at Annabelle.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he said.
 
“You’ve been rather busy lately, haven’t
you?”

“I’m always busy,” Annabelle replied.
 
“I prefer to keep busy and active.
 
Idle hands, you know.”

“Yes, well, there is something to be said for enjoying one’s retirement,”
Bertie suggested.

“I didn’t particularly want to retire,” Annabelle said.
 
“I thoroughly enjoyed working and I’d go
back tomorrow if there was a position open that suited me.”

Bertie laughed.
 
“Not
me,” he said firmly.
 
“Oh, I didn’t
mind working, when I had to do it.
 
But the day they said I could retire, I was happy to get out.”

“I’m curious,” Bessie said, as the conversation seemed to
stop.
 
“How long has flat five been
empty?”

“I’m not sure it is empty,” Annabelle told Bessie.
 
“I know I hear noises coming from there
once in a while and I’m sure I’ve heard the door open and close late at
night.
 
I suspect someone is using
it as a little love nest for late night meetings that his wife doesn’t know
about.”

Bessie immediately thought of George Quayle, and then gave herself
a mental shake.
 
He couldn’t
possibly be cheating on Mary.
 
She
glanced around to see where Mary was, but she was busy again in the kitchen and
hadn’t overheard Annabelle’s comment.

“But you’ve never seen anyone going in or out?” Bessie asked.

“No,” Annabelle admitted.
 
“But that doesn’t change the fact that someone is.”

“Of course not,” Bessie replied.
 

“Ah, is that the time?” Ruth said loudly.
 
“I really must be going.”
 
She headed for the door, leaving Bessie
to rush after her to thank her for coming.

“Oh, it was a lovely party,” Ruth replied.
 
“Next time I’ll make sure I bring
something with me that I can eat.”

“Couldn’t you find anything?” Bessie asked.

“Oh, there were a few things I might have tried,” Ruth said.
 
“But I simply wasn’t sure.
 
I’ve so many allergies and intolerances,
it’s simply easier to not eat.”

“You should have given me a list of things you can eat,” Bessie
said.
 
“Then I could have made sure
I had something for you.
 
I’ll do
that next time.”

“Oh, I’d hate to have you fuss over me,” Ruth replied, before
striding off down the corridor.

No, it’s easier to wait until it’s too late and then complain,
Bessie thought to herself as she returned to the party.
 
It seemed as if things were suddenly
winding down.