Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (17 page)

“Well, yeah,” the man said quickly, his face flushing.
 
“I mean, well, what I meant was, I’d
have given your friend the extra special VIP treatment, like.”

Mary nodded.
 
“Well, I
expect nothing less while she’s staying here,” she told the man.
 
“I assume you’ve given the movers the
keys to the flat?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“We’ll just go up and see how they’re getting on, then.”
 
Mary turned and walked down the short
corridor to the lift, with Bessie on her heels.

Inside the lift, Mary blew out a long breath.
 
“What a disagreeable little man,” she
said.
 
“I’m sure I don’t know why
Grant hired him.”

“He seemed eager to please,” Bessie replied.

“Because of who I am,” Mary said, “or rather, who I’m married
to.
 
I think you’ll get treated well
because of your connection to George.
 
I’d love to hear how he treats the other residents, though.”

“I’ll let you know,” Bessie promised.

The lift was slow, but seemed to be working properly.
 
The door to number ten was open and
Bessie could hear the movers inside the flat.
 
She peeked inside and smiled.
 
The movers had already arranged all of
the furniture in the large main room, and thanks to the new coat of paint that
was a slightly less boring shade of beige, and the gorgeous furniture, the flat
looked comfortable and
cosy
.

“Oh, Bessie, it’s adorable,” Mary said with a smile.

“It does look rather charming,” Bessie agreed.
 
She peeked into the bedroom, where the
movers were assembling the bedframe.
 
“I think I’ll be quite comfortable here, really.”

“I do hope so,” Mary said.
 
“I’m actually feeling a bit jealous.
 
Maybe I need a little flat of my own
where I can get away from everyone.”

“Surely, in a house as large as yours, you have lots of places you
can go to get away?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Mary asked with a wry grin.
 
“But George always finds me, or one of
the staff does.
 
Someone always
needs something.
 
A flat of my own
would be ideal.”

“If I decide I don’t like it, you should buy it,” Bessie suggested,
only half-joking.

Mary looked thoughtful for a moment and then laughed.
 
“What a silly idea,” she said.
 

“So, you’re the new
neighbour
, then?” a
voice came from behind the women.
 
Bessie turned around and smiled brightly at the man in the doorway.

“I’m Elizabeth
Cubbon
,” she said, walking
towards him.
 
“Everyone calls me
Bessie.”

“Hi, Bessie,” he said with a wink.
 
“
I
’m Bertie
Ayers
.
 
I’m right
across the hall.”

Bessie offered her hand and studied the man while he shook it.
 
He was just about her height, although
she imagined he had been taller in his youth.
 
He had a few stray grey hairs sticking
out in all directions on his head, but not enough to trouble anyone.
 
His brown eyes were all but hidden
behind thick glasses that had a hearing aid attached on each side.
 
While his clothes didn’t look expensive,
they were clean and had obviously been ironed as well.

“I’m a bachelor,” Bertie announced.
 
“I’m going to be seventy-three in a few
months and I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I’ve
never married, either, my age is none of your business and I’m not looking for
a boyfriend.”

Bertie laughed until he began to wheeze.
 
“Sorry,” he said when he’d caught his
breath.
 
“I was a smoker back when
we didn’t know any better.
 
Anyway,
it’s a real pleasure to meet you, Bessie.
 
I like a woman who tells it like it is.
 
Are you moving in today, then?”

“No, probably not for a few days,” Bessie replied.
 
“I’m having a housewarming on Saturday
afternoon, though, so make sure you plan to stop in.”

“There’s nothing on the
telly
on a
Saturday afternoon,” Bertie said.
 
“So I’ll probably be able to make it.”

“What are the other
neighbours
like?”
Bessie asked.
 
“I do know Bahey in
number eleven and Howard in number twelve.”

“I like Bahey a lot,” the man confided.
 
“If Howard hadn’t seen her first, I
might have had to change my mind about the girlfriend thing.”

“Does that mean you don’t like Howard?” Bessie had to ask.

“Oh, no, he’s an okay chap,” Bertie said.
 
“I’ve no complaints against him.
 
That just leaves Ruth and Muriel on this
floor.
 
They’re both okay, too.”

“Just okay?” Bessie pressed him.

“They both seem to think I need a girlfriend,” Bertie said.
 
He leaned in towards Bessie.
 
“If I do, it wouldn’t be either of
them,” he whispered.
 
“But you’ll
get to meet them all soon enough, I reckon.
 
They’ll both be over to check out the
competition.”

“Competition?
 
For
what?” Bessie asked.

Bertie laughed.
 
“Well,
Howard’s pretty well taken, I guess, but I’m single and so is Simon, although I
suspect he might be more interested in me than you, if you catch my drift.”

Bessie nodded.

“Anyway, the big prize at the moment seems to be our friend Mr. Green.
 
All the ladies in the building seem to
be chasing after him.”

“Mr. Green?
 
The
building manager?” Bessie asked, stunned.

“Yeah, that’s the bloke.
 
And don’t ask me what they see in him, I’m just telling you what I’ve
seen.
 
Anyway, I have to go.
 
It’s time for my next
programme
.”

He was gone before Bessie could press him for more
information.
 
She turned to
Mary.
 
“Why on earth would anyone
chase after the building manager?” she asked.

“I’ve no idea,” Mary replied with a shrug.
 
“Maybe our Mr. Ayers is just a touch
confused.”

“Maybe,” Bessie replied, thoughtfully.

The movers soon had the bedroom finished and Bessie was delighted
with the end result.
 
The small room
felt almost as
cosy
as her bedroom at home.
 

“I’ll need a mattress, of course, and bedding,” Bessie said.

“Oh, I have….” Mary began, but Bessie held up a hand.

“You’ve already done far too much,” Bessie said firmly.
 
“I’ll buy a mattress and bedding and
whatever else I need.”

Mary opened her mouth to object, but Bessie gave her a stern
look.
 
“Okay,” Mary said.
 
“Would you like to go shopping for those
things now?”

Bessie glanced at her watch.
 
They had just about enough time to pick up a few things before
dinner.
 
“If you have the time,” she
said, hesitantly.

“Of course I do,” Mary told her.

Half an hour later, at a small shop nearby, Bessie had everything
she needed picked out and paid for.
 

“We’ll get it all delivered tomorrow,” the shop assistant promised
as Bessie handed over her credit card.

“Well, I’d call that a good day’s work,” Mary said as the pair
headed back to Mary’s car.
 
“Let’s
stop at my house and see if we can get someone to drive us to dinner.”

“Perfect,” Bessie said with a satisfied smile.
 
Her little flat was now furnished and
almost ready for her and she was really starting to look forward
to
moving in.

Bessie caught her breath as Mary turned up the drive to her
mansion.
 
No matter how many times
Bessie saw the
place,
she was always surprised by the
sheer size of it.
 
Now she tried to
see it through Mary’s eyes, as home, but it simply wasn’t possible.
 
There was nothing about the sprawling
mansion that seemed “homely” to Bessie.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Mary told Bessie as she led her into the
enormous foyer of her home.
 
“Do you
want to wait in the library?”

“I’d love to,” Bessie replied.
 
The library was the only part of the house that made Bessie
feel
the tiniest bit jealous.
 
The large room had bookshelves from
floor to ceiling on three walls.
 
The fourth
wall
was
nearly
all windows,
so that if you looked up from your book you could spend
some time admiring the incredible sea views.
 
Bessie sank down into one of the
comfortable leather chairs that were dotted around the room.
 
The tables on either side of it had neat
piles of books on them, and Bessie happily amused herself by flipping through
them, reading back covers and scanning first pages.

“Ah, Bessie, Mary told me you were in here,” George’s voice boomed
from the doorway.
 
“I thought I
ought to entertain you while you wait for her to get ready.”

Bessie bit back a sigh.
 
The last thing she needed in a library like this was anyone to
“entertain” her.
 
“Hello, George,”
she said politely.
 
“Thank you so
much for arranging the
Seaview
Terrace rental for
me.
 
I’m looking forward to the
change of scenery.”

“Ah, yes, well, it wasn’t any problem at all,”
George
replied.
 
“It’s just sitting there
empty, after all.”

“Well, I’m very grateful,”
Bessie
said.

“I do hope you’re joining us on Friday?” George changed the subject
abruptly.
 
“Grant is looking forward
to having a chance to get to know you a bit better.”

“I am planning on coming,” Bessie said.
 
“And I’d love the chance to thank Mr.
Robertson as well.”

George nodded.
 
“Well, I
suppose I’ll see you then,” he said, looking as if his mind was elsewhere.
 
“What are you and Mary doing tonight,
then?”

“I’m taking her to dinner to thank her for loaning me some
furniture for the flat,” Bessie explained.

“Oh, are you making use of some of our things?” George asked.
 
“That’s good of you.
 
And I’m ever so glad you and Mary are
friends.
 
She needs more friends.”

“I do hope you weren’t planning on having dinner with her
yourself,” Bessie said, feeling awkward.
 
“I mean
,
you’re more than welcome to join us,
of course.”

George shook his head.
 
“Oh, no, I’m having dinner with Grant.
 
We have a lot of business to
discuss.
 
No, if my dear wife were
staying at home tonight she’d be having a quiet dinner on her own.
 
I’m afraid I often have dinner
meetings.”

“Mary said you had lunch with Mack Dickson the day of his talk,”
Bessie said, hoping she didn’t sound too interested in George’s reply.
 
Having heard the Mack was blackmailing
the man, she was very curious as to what he’d say.

George narrowed his eyes.
 
“Did I?” he asked.
 
Bessie
fancied he sounded nervous.
 
“Oh,
yes, well, Grant and I did, I think.”
 
He cleared his throat.
 
“I’d
quite forgotten about that afternoon.
 
Well, not what happened later, of course, but the luncheon, I’d quite
forgotten about that.”

“I hope you had an interesting conversation with him,” Bessie
remarked.

“Oh, yes, it was quite interesting,”
George
replied.
 
“If I remember correctly,
Mack was advising a young man at some university who was working on a history
of banking.
 
He wanted to find out
about the early days of the Manx National Bank and Mack was hoping to get him
an interview with Grant.”

“Oh dear, I hope Mack’s death didn’t upset the young man’s plans.”

George shook his head.
 
“I’ve no idea if Grant ever followed through or not.
 
I should ask him later.”