Aunt Bessie's Holiday (32 page)

He didn’t answer.
 
Bessie was just trying to find Andrew’s
number on her phone when she found herself back in front of the row of cabins.
 
Nathan Beck was standing in front of the
end unit, looking miserably at the empty space where Monique’s car had been.

“Good morning,” Bessie called out to
him.
 

Nathan jumped.
 
He looked over at Bessie and shook his
head.
 
“Not good,” he said.

“Monique said she had to go home because her
father was ill,” Bessie told him.
 
“I hope everything is okay.”

“Is that what she told you?” Nathan
asked.
 
“I suppose it could have
been worse.”

Bessie walked up the short path towards the
cabin’s front door.
 
She stopped in
front of Nathan and looked into his eyes.
 
“Is everything okay?” she asked softly.

“Monique thinks I killed Charles,” Nathan
replied.
 
“She’s left me.”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie said, her mind
whirling.
 
“Why would she think such
a thing?”

Nathan laughed harshly.
 
“She knows me too well,” he said.
 
“I did it for her, but she doesn’t
believe me.
 
Can you ring the
police, please?
 
They can come and
get me.
 
She’s gone.
 
It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Bessie opened her mouth, but no words came
out.
 
For a long moment she just
looked at the man and then she pulled out her phone.
 
As she hadn’t reached John a moment ago,
she tried Doona’s mobile.

“Bessie, where are you?” Doona
demanded.
 
“The police just
rang.
 
Apparently Monique rang them
and said she thinks Nathan killed Charles and that you’re wandering around in
the woods by their cabin.
 
What’s
going on?”

“I’m here with Nathan,” Bessie said as
calmly as she could.
 
“We’ll just
wait here for Margaret.”

“Margaret is on her way,” Doona said.
 
“Where will she find you?”

Bessie told her about the path behind the
lake and then disconnected.
 
Nathan
hadn’t moved or spoken during the call.
 
Now he looked at Bessie and shrugged.

“It was all working so well,” he said sadly.

“Let’s sit down,” Bessie suggested,
gesturing towards a nearby bench.
 
“The police will be here soon.”

Nathan followed her to the bench and sat
down beside her.
 
“She was having an
affair with Charles and then he dumped her,” he told Bessie.
 
“She wanted to leave.”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie said.
 
She was torn between asking him questions
and wishing the police would hurry.

“Maybe I’ll get to cook in prison,” he said,
staring off into the distance.
 
“I’m
not a bad cook.
 
Monique was the
genius in the kitchen, of course.
 
Without her, I’m just an ordinary cook.”

Bessie tried to fit the pieces together as
the man spoke.
 
“I didn’t know
that,” she said after a moment.

“Of course you didn’t,” Nathan replied.
 
“We were very careful to make sure that
no one knew.
 
Her father wouldn’t
let her run their kitchen.
 
He
didn’t think it was a job for a woman.
 
Lots of people seem to agree, so we always told employers that she was
my assistant.
 
The job here was just
about perfect, because Harold didn’t care what we did as long as the guests
were happy.
 
Charles ruined everything.”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie said, feeling as if
everything that came out of her mouth was the wrong thing.

“He cut my staff so much that Monique had to
start waiting tables instead of helping in the kitchen.
 
We found ways to work around that, but
then he started buying cheaper ingredients as well.
 
Monique was furious.”

Bessie watched Nathan’s eyes fill with
anger.
 
“How frustrating for you,”
she murmured.

“All I ever wanted was to have my own little
restaurant,” the man said sadly.
 
“Monique
was happy to help me until Charles broke her heart.”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie said, wishing the police
would hurry.
 

“We had an agreement, Monique and I,” Nathan
continued, almost talking to himself.
 
“We didn’t love each other, but we worked well together.
 
She hated what Charles was doing to the
restaurant, but she fell madly in love with the man.”

“Poor Monique,” Bessie muttered.
 
The words were hardly out of her mouth
when she spotted Margaret Hopkins.
 
The woman was walking very slowly towards them, trying to keep out of
Nathan’s line of sight.
 
It wasn’t
all that difficult, as the man was staring straight ahead and didn’t actually seem
to be seeing anything.

“She really fell for Charles,” Nathan told
her now.
 
“And she was heartbroken
when he told her his wife was coming and he was planning to get back together
with her.”

“That wasn’t going to happen,” Bessie
replied.

Nathan shrugged.
 
“She wanted to leave.
 
She said she couldn’t work with Charles
anymore.
 
I agreed to go anywhere
she wanted, but she didn’t want me to come with her.
 
She was going to leave me here, knowing
I’d never keep my job without her help.
 
I’m simply not a very good chef.”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie said quietly, watching
Margaret closely.

“Try to keep him talking,” the other woman
mouthed to Bessie.
 
At least that
was what Bessie thought she said.

“So she was going to leave?” Bessie repeated
his words.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Nathan said,
glancing around and spotting Margaret.
 
“I didn’t mean to kill him.
 
I just wanted to talk to him.
 
I was hoping he could persuade Monique to stay, that’s all.”

“But that didn’t happen, did it?” Margaret
asked, her voice low.

“No, he wouldn’t listen.
 
He said Monique had just been a bit of
fun, that’s all.
 
I was so angry,”
Nathan dropped his head into his hands.
 

Bessie looked up at Margaret and then rose
to her feet.
 
“I’m sorry,” she said
again to Nathan, not entirely certain what she was sorry about.

Margaret waved a hand and several uniformed
policemen quickly surrounded the bench as Bessie slowly walked away.

Chapter Sixteen
 

“I didn’t get any pastries,” Bessie said as
she walked into her cabin.
 
“I’m
sorry, I completely forgot.”

John, Andrew and Doona all jumped up and
rushed towards her.
 

“Never mind pastries,” Doona said.
 
“Are you okay?
 
I was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” Bessie insisted as she was
pulled into a huge hug.
 
Once Doona
released her, John gave her a quick hug as well, and even Andrew wrapped an arm
around her shoulders and gave her a small squeeze.

They all made their way into the kitchen,
where a huge box of pastries and a pot of coffee waited.
 
Bessie sat down with a croissant and
coffee and sighed deeply.

“I’m glad someone remembered the pastries,”
she said after she’d had a bite of her flaky croissant.

“I said I’d bring them,” Andrew told
her.
 
“And I had to find something
to do while we waited to hear from Margaret that you were okay.”

“I was fine,” Bessie said with a wave of her
hand.
 
“I wasn’t in any danger.
 
Nathan just fell apart.”

“He started falling apart right after the murder,”
Andrew said.
 
“His cooking suffered
immediately.”

“That might have been because Monique wasn’t
helping him anymore,” Bessie said, telling them what Nathan had said about the
real talent behind his delicious meals.
 
She took them through her conversations with both Monique and Nathan.

“I wonder why Monique didn’t come forward
sooner,” Doona said when she’d finished.

“I’m not sure we’ll ever know,” Andrew
replied.
 
“But I’m sure Margaret
will ask.”

“Nathan insisted that he never intended to
kill Charles,” Bessie said thoughtfully.
 
“He was just upset because Charles wouldn’t help him keep Monique here.”

“I’d be more inclined to believe that if he
hadn’t stolen the knife from your cabin,” Andrew said.

Bessie gasped.
 
“I hadn’t thought about that,” she admitted.
 
“That certainly makes it seem more
likely to have been premeditated, doesn’t it?”

“I would say so,” John said.
 
“But I’m sure he’ll come up with some
sort of explanation.”

“You do seem to have a knack for getting
confessions from people lately,” Doona said to Bessie with a sigh.

“I don’t mean to,” Bessie replied
defensively.
 
“I just seem to be in
the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“From my perspective, this time it was the
right place,” Doona told her.
 
“I
was sure Margaret thought I did it.”

“Well, I’m just glad it’s all sorted before
we’re due to head back,” Bessie said.

Everyone ate silently for a few minutes
before Doona spoke.
 
“I’m not sure I
feel like going to the book club this afternoon,” she said to Bessie.
 
“I hope you don’t mind if I skip it.”

“I’m not feeling like talking about books
much myself,” Bessie admitted.
 
“I
only finished two of them and I can think of a lot of better ways to spend our
last day here.”

“Like what?” Doona asked.

Bessie looked over at Andrew and
grinned.
 
“We should all go and play
crazy golf instead,” she suggested.
 
“And get two scoops of ice cream.”

“And maybe play Poohsticks on the way back,”
Andrew added.

They all sat back and ate and drank.
 
Bessie felt as if she were waiting for
something, but she wasn’t sure what.
 
Margaret called a short time later and had a long conversation with
John.
 

“He’s confessed to everything,” he told the
others when he’d hung up.
 
“He’s
even admitted to stealing the knife from your patio.
 
He still says he didn’t go to Charles’s
office intending to kill him, but he can’t explain why he took the knife with
him otherwise.”

“What about Monique?” Bessie asked.

“She told Margaret that she suspected him
all along, but she says she didn’t want to believe that he was capable of
murder.
 
According to her, she was
never in love with him, but she thought he was a good person.”

“I think we should put it all out of our
minds and go and get some lunch and have some fun,” Andrew said.

“Andrew’s right,” John agreed.
 

“Give us fifteen minutes to freshen up,”
Doona suggested.
 
“We’ll meet you on
the bench out front.”

The men left and Doona turned to
Bessie.
 
“Did Nathan really say that
Charles dumped Monique because of me?” she demanded with tears in her eyes.

“Yes,” Bessie said.

“I don’t even know what to think,” Doona
said, shaking her head.
 
“Maybe he
really did want to give our marriage another chance.”

“I suppose we’ll never know,” Bessie said,
hugging her friend.
 
“You should
believe whatever makes you the happiest,” she suggested.

“That’s a thought,” Doona replied.
 
“I wish I knew what that was,” she added
with a small laugh.

“You’ll work it out,” Bessie told her.

Andrew seemed determined to make sure that everyone
thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon.
 
They had lunch at the American-style restaurant and then played several
rounds of crazy golf.
 
At the ice
cream stand, he bought them all double scoops.
 
They found a bench in a quiet spot and
sat down to enjoy their treat.

“This has been a fun afternoon,” Doona said
between bites.
 
“And it’s taken my
mind off things, as well.”

“That’s good to hear,” Andrew told her.

John had pulled out his phone and was
checking his messages.
 
“I need to
ring Margaret,” he said with a sigh.
 
He walked a few steps away and punched the numbers of his phone.
 
When he came back a few minutes later,
he was smiling.

“Jessica Howe is going to be just fine,” he
told them all.
 
“Apparently, she’d
just had far too much to drink.
 
Herbert hasn’t left her side and I gather the two are talking about a
second honeymoon and starting over.
 
For some weird reason, I hope it works out for them.”

“Did Margaret have anything else to say?”
Bessie asked.

“Yes, you and Doona are free to return home
tomorrow as planned,” John replied.
 
“But Charles’s solicitor wants to talk to Doona before you go.
 
He’s suggested a meeting tonight.”

“I don’t suppose I have a choice,” Doona
said.

“Not really,” John replied.
 
“He’ll be here at seven unless I ring
Margaret back to change it.”

“That’s fine,” Doona shrugged.
 
“At least I can have a good dinner
before I hear what he has to say.”

As it happened, he didn’t have much to
say.
 
The foursome had a light
dinner together and then Bessie and Doona returned to the cabin to wait for the
man.
 
When he arrived, he got
straight to the point.

“Mrs. Adams, your husband has left his
entire estate to you.
 
A few days
ago I would have said you were now quite wealthy, but there seem to be several
concerns about the partnership your husband was a part of.
 
All I can tell you at this point is
that, if there is any money in the estate after the legal issues are resolved,
you will inherit it.
 
I will be
doing my best to represent Charles as things move forward.”

“So I shouldn’t start planning to buy a
mansion in the Algarve just yet,” Doona replied dryly.

“No, I’d say not,” the man replied
solemnly.
 
“The only other thing I
have for you is a letter,” he said, handing Doona an envelope.
 
“Charles wanted you to have this if
anything happened to him.”

Doona turned the envelope over in her
hands.
 
“Thank you,” she said
eventually.
 

After the man left, Bessie gave Doona a
hug.
 
“I can leave you alone if you
want to open the letter,” she said tentatively.

“I think, for now, I’m just going to put it
in my suitcase,” Doona answered.
 
“According to the schedule, there’s a disco on tonight.
 
Why don’t we put on our dancing shoes
and have some fun?”

Realising that her friend was hoping to keep
her mind off Charles, Bessie was quick to agree.
 
She rang John and Andrew and they joined
them on the walk to the Squirrel’s Drey.
 
They could hear the loud music as they approached and Bessie exchanged
glances with Andrew.

“My children and adult grandchildren are in
there somewhere,” he told Bessie.
 
“I keep telling myself it’s going to be fun.”

“We just might have to work at making it
fun,” Bessie said with a small sigh.
 
The tables and chairs in the food court had all been removed and the
entire space was being used as a dance floor.
 
Flashing lights and loud music assaulted
Bessie’s senses.
 
She looked over at
Doona and decided that this was exactly what her friend needed tonight.
 
They stayed out until they were all
exhausted enough to sleep in spite of everything.

The next morning, Bessie was up at six
again.
 
As she walked around the
lake for the last time she kept her thoughts on home.
 
Doona didn’t get up until nearly time to
leave, so she had to scramble to finish her packing in time.
 
John and Andrew arrived to help them
carry their bags back to their car.

“We don’t have enough stuff to warrant
driving the car here,” Doona said.
 
“Although it was nice having it brought to us when we arrived.”

“I think the VIP treatment is over,” Bessie
said.

“I’m just worried that we’ll get a bill for
everything,” Doona replied.

“We’ll work it out,” Bessie told her.

“I’ll be flying back in a few hours,” John
told them at Doona’s car.
 
“We
should get back to the island around the same time.”

“And I hope you’ll keep in touch,” Andrew
said.
 
“I meant what I said about
visiting the island.
 
I think the
little beach houses near you would be perfect for me and my family next spring
or summer.”

Bessie promised to send him a brochure about
the holiday cottages and to keep in touch.
 
Then she and Doona headed back towards Heysham and the ferry terminal.

“That wasn’t exactly the holiday I was
hoping for,” Doona said sadly as they drove away from the park.

“Maybe we should take another holiday
somewhere far away,” Bessie suggested.
 
“I’ll talk to Doncan and see if I can afford to take us both to America
or something.”

“Maybe once the legal issues are settled,
I’ll be able to afford to take us both somewhere exotic,” Doona said.
 
“Or at least to Liverpool for a long
weekend.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“Even that would be fun, if we do it
together,” she told her friend.

“Thank you for being my best friend,” Doona
said.
 
“I don’t know how I’d have
made it though this last week without you.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Bessie told
her.
 
“You were there for me during
all the awfulness in July and after.
 
I’m just hoping we can both have a quieter life for a while now.”

“Quiet sounds wonderful,” Doona replied with
enthusiasm.