The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  “Penny for ‘em!” he said, putting the drinks down.

  “I was wondering what you’d look like with no clothes on,” she replied, her eyes holding his, searching his face for a reaction.

  “I can show you, right here, if you wish,” he replied, setting the drinks down.

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Ben, thanks.” There was a look of stunned amusement on his face as he sat down.

  “Are you always so direct?”

  “You asked me what I was thinking. I told you. When I first saw you I admired your athletic build. You’ve obviously looked after yourself and it shows.” She raised her glass to him. Cheers!” Not used to a woman speaking her mind in such a way, he found it refreshing but, above all, exciting. It brought to mind memories of when Tina had stimulated him in the same way, a willing and innovative partner, passionate and energetic in her love-making. But that had ended after the first baby and they had never recaptured their early enthusiasm in bed. They were still communicating then and had talked it over with their GP who recommended a psychologist who specialised in sexual problems. Ben had tried to be supportive, understanding and, most of all, patient but to his everlasting frustration he found that the less Tina wanted to be involved in any form of sexual activity the more his urge for sex increased. There had been so much guilt attached to his first affair but slowly he came to enjoy the illicit thrill of clandestine liaisons. Only once had Tina come close to finding him out and he had reacted like a nicotine addict trying to give up smoking. So unnerved was he by the experience, and what he possibly stood to lose, that he swore he would never stray again. Until the next time, of course. Sex occurred between them now with about the same regularity as an oil-change for the car and with about as much excitement. Thinking about his marriage, he knew that he needed the security it provided and how good it had been for his career. There was no question that he loved his children, dearly, but Tina? What did he honestly feel for her now? Over the years she had become compulsively materialistic and, as his income had increased, so had the size of their debt. On an impulse, he tried to count off, on the fingers of one hand, how many times they had moved in the past ten years.

  “What are you up to?” Bella, who had been quietly watching him, enquired.

  “Oh, just doing some sums,” he replied, giving up on it. There was a note of resignation in his voice.

  “You ok?” Bella asked.

  “Fine,” he answered, putting a smile in place and looking at his watch. “We’ll make a move when we’ve drunk these, eh? Feeling better after the sandwich?”

  “Absolutely! You wouldn’t believe how I needed that! How far are we from the cottage?”

  “About fifteen miles or so, I would guess. Getting excited?”

  “What do you think?” she asked him. “Wouldn’t you be?” Ben was excited, alright, but for entirely different reasons.

  They headed south-west on the A354 content, at first, to sit and watch the countryside pass by as they got under way. The cottage occupied Bella’s thoughts now but she was frightened to try and form a picture in her mind of what it looked like in case she was disappointed. Now that they were getting close she was beginning to get a little nervous because she might have built her hopes up too much.

  “Got any ideas of how it might look? ” Ben asked, as if he could read her mind.

  “I’m trying not to think about it in case it isn’t how I’d pictured it,” she admitted.

  “Just take a look at some of the houses in the villages round here. It might give you a clue,” he suggested. “We’re only about ten minutes away, by my reckoning.” Bella referred to the map, knowing that they had to make a right turn to get to Knapthorne before too long and realising she’d need to remember the route they had taken. After they’d turned off the main road, an unexpected delay caused by a flock of sheep on the road meant that it was closer to fifteen minutes before they reached the outskirts of the village. Ben had said that they needed to turn off before Knapthorne, at Spinney Lane, which would be on their right and, suddenly, Bella cried out, pointing excitedly.

  “There it is, Spinney Lane!” They drove down the narrow road cautiously, with Bella taking in the landscape on either side, conscious of how her heart was beating more rapidly now as expectation of seeing the cottage at any moment increased. In some places the brown earth of the fields reached right to the roadside itself while, in others, remaining hedgerows shrouded the horizon from view with their spring growth. After driving along the winding lane for just over a mile, Ben slowed the car as they approached a turning on their left marked by a tall, majestic oak tree on its far side.

  “Here we are,” he said quietly. Bella sucked in her breath, biting on her bottom lip, as they turned off the lane and she lowered her head, looking for the cottage between the trees and hedges that lined the drive. And then as they rounded a bend about twenty yards down there it was in front of them nestling behind the big willow on the lawn. Ben pulled up a little way from the cottage so Bella could take it all in. Automatically he turned towards his passenger eager to see the look on her face.

  “Oh, Ben! It’s lovely,” Bella whispered.

  Neither of them moved, both of the same mind to sit and soak up the atmosphere of the place as they looked around.

  “I can’t believe this is all mine,” Bella said softly. “It’s like a dream come true.” Unable to wait, she took out her phone and took a picture through the windscreen. From where they were parked, the cottage was slightly to their right so they had a three dimensional view which took in part of the back garden as well. If this were in the middle of a forest, Bella was thinking, it would complete the fairy-tale tableau, for that was her first impression together with the fact that the word cottage didn’t really do it justice. It was far larger than she had imagined. For one thing it was a two-storey building with a slate roof but, in addition, there were dormer windows built into the roof, giving the cottage an extra dimension. The slates, from a nearby quarry, had weathered to an earthy brown colour which contrasted pleasantly with the honey-coloured rough stone blocks from which the walls were constructed. Each set of dormer windows had its own slate roof, giving the impression of two hooded eyes looking out. A stone-block chimney rose about 2 metres above the cottage, on the right-hand side and all of the deeply set windows featured lead lighting. A small porch, complete with slate roof, indicated the entrance to Willow Cottage and added to its overall charm. Bella was almost moved to tears.

  “Well, I don’t suppose we’re going to find out what it’s like inside by sitting here, are we? These are yours,” Ben announced, having produced a set of keys from his pocket. “Welcome to Willow Cottage, Bella,” he said, handing them to her. “Let’s go and have a look, shall we?” Bella felt like pinching herself, unable to truly believe this was happening. At any moment she sensed that someone might suddenly appear to snatch the keys and explain that it had all been a ghastly mistake and that really the cottage was Laura’s. Ben was out of the car and waiting for her, wondering what the delay was.

  “Are you always so enthusiastic when someone leaves you a cottage?” he yelled, then turned and made for the porch. Bella couldn’t help but grin as she got out.

  “Behave yourself, Hollingsworth, or I just might not let you in,” Bella retorted.

  “It’s up to you,” he replied, matter-of-factly, “but I don’t think those shoes of yours are up to walking to the village!” She joined him at the door and let them both into the cottage. Predictably, a musty smell, though not unpleasant, greeted them as they walked in. They stood in the lobby and surveyed the room in front of them, in silence. It was a large living area that served both as a lounge and dining room and was full of character with a polished wood floor, low ceiling and exposed beams. The first thought to flash through Bella’s mind was to sell the flat and move in here. She loved it.

  “Wow!” was all she said, before taking off to explore the rest of the cottage. The kitchen and laundry area
were reached by means of a short hallway leading off the dining area, at the rear and to the left of the living room. At the far right-hand side, diagonally opposite the lobby, was the staircase leading to the upper floor, underneath which was the door leading to the games room. Upstairs, on the first floor, were two double bedrooms at the front and, across the hallway, a single bedroom at the far end then the toilet and a huge bathroom with a big, modern bath and separate shower unit. Bella was simply lost for words and, in the rush to look round the cottage, had forgotten the fact that Ben was with her. Her biggest surprise came after mounting the stairs that led to the room in the roof. It turned out be one long gallery that stretched the whole length and breadth of the house and she knew immediately that this is where she would work.

  “Ben!” she yelled. “You must come and see this!” Her voice reverberated around the big empty space as she walked towards one of the windows that looked out on the garden at the rear. To her delight, there was a small pond about a third of the way down and beyond that what was obviously once a vegetable patch and further back still a number of fruit trees. A line of taller, evergreen trees marked the end of the garden which would have been around twenty metres from the cottage. And it’s all mine, she thought.

  “Uncle Foxy,” if you’re listening,” she murmured, “you’re a honey.”

  Suddenly, she realised that Ben hadn’t appeared and wondered if he was alright.

  “Ben?” she called, once more, as she walked towards the staircase. “Ben, are you there?” She found him, eventually, sitting on the sofa in the living room. “What happened to you? I thought you’d be with me, on the grand tour. You ok?” He could tell from the excitement in her voice that she’d fallen in love with the place and when he turned to look at her, she was grinning from ear to ear.

  “It’s your inheritance, Bella. I didn’t want to get in your way or spoil your fun, that’s all.”

  “Oh, come on, Ben, you wouldn’t do that.” She looked around the room slowly, in disbelief, like a little girl let loose in a chocolate factory, still unable to take it all in. “D’you know something?” she said, as if having come to a decision.

  “What’s that? Ben asked, innocently.

  “I’m in shock. I need a drink. Come on, let’s find the local, then we can come back and have a good look round later.”

  Ben felt a sense of relief as they drove away, back towards the village. At least, that was the only way he could describe it. Although he hadn’t mentioned it to Bella, he had been to the cottage once before, with Rupert, and something about the place had made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. Nothing he could put his finger on, or describe in a manner that he wouldn’t be laughed at, but it made it difficult for him to share her enthusiasm. The feeling wasn’t new to him either. He had experienced it once before on one of Tina’s endless forays into the property market, when they had inspected an old house in Matching Tye, just north of Harlow. Tina, of course, had fallen in love with it as it was way above what they could afford but he had known, instantly, that he didn’t want to live there. Couldn’t live there. And then the rows had started, with Tina accusing him of being ridiculous because he couldn’t explain what it was that had put him off the place. Matching Tye! He smiled at the memory. How could anyone, except for a menswear retailer, maybe, want to live in a place called Matching Tye?

  “What’s so funny?” Bella asked, seeing him smile.

  “Oh, just an old memory, that’s all. Nothing important. I was thinking back to when Tina and I had been looking at properties.”

  “You look even younger when you smile, you know,” she said. “It gives you dimples. You should do it more often.”

  “I’ll try and remember,” he grinned. “We turn right here, don’t we?” They were at the end of Spinney Lane.

  “There’s a signpost right in front of you, look. I thought we could have lunch at the pub then go back to the cottage and I could look round the house and garden and make some notes. You can sit in the car while I do that, if you like.”

  “Why do you say that?” He looked left and right before pulling out and turning in the direction of Knapthorne.

  “I got the feeling you weren’t too interested, that’s all,” Bella replied.

  “Must be the husband in me,” Ben said, putting on a gloomy face. “I’ve been round so many properties, with Tina, over the years that my enthusiasm for that sort of thing has been blunted. I hope you understand.”

  Of course!” she replied, breezily. “But I am glad you’re here though. I’m enjoying your company.”

  “Likewise.” Not willing to lose the opportunity, Ben said what was on his mind. “Perhaps we should do something like this again?” Bella gave the idea some thought, briefly, then flashed him a provocative look.

  “I’m not sure about you yet, Ben. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “What kind of an answer’s that, for God’s sake?”

  “The only one you’re going to get, right now,” she replied, leaning across and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “So, it’ll have to do.” She was rescued by the first houses along the main street of the village, very similar to the style of her own, coming into view. “We’re here, look.”

  It struck Bella how neat and tidy everything looked, after London. And quiet! She couldn’t get over the lack of traffic and the absence of people. From the minute she had entered the cottage she’d had the feeling that this was meant to be. Strangely enough, since the success of her novel, in particular, she had experienced a vague uneasiness that had been disturbing her. At a time when she should have been enjoying the rewards of her achievement, some nebulous, unsettling feeling had been spoiling the party. Now, right this moment, she had identified the problem and it felt like a weight had been lifted from her.

  “Ha!” she cried, throwing her head back and running her fingers through her hair. “What a fool I’ve been!” Her outburst startled Ben, who looked at her in alarm.

  “What on earth’s the matter?” There was genuine concern in his voice.

  “I think I’ve just started to grow up!” she informed him, with a look of immense pleasure on her face.

  “How d’you mean?” He had dropped the car’s speed, trying to concentrate on the road as well as what Bella was saying. Thankfully, there was virtually no traffic around.

  “For years I’ve had a pretty self-indulgent life in London.” She had turned sideways in her seat, to look at him. “Lots of friends, parties, that sort of thing. Theatres, restaurants, clubs, late nights, you name it. It’s what you do….”

  “So?” He was about to continue when he saw the pub, and the car park, on the other side of the road. “Hold on, til I’ve parked the car,” he said, waiting for a car coming in the opposite direction to pass. When it was clear, he drove in and found a space. “So, what are you about to tell me?” he continued, as they sat in the parked car. She took a deep breath before speaking.

  “I’m ready for a change. No, more than that. I need a change. Something’s been bothering me for some time now and I’ve realised that I’ve finally had enough of London.” Bella looked quite pleased with herself.

  “Are you serious?” He couldn’t for a moment imagine living anywhere else and his look of disbelief amused her.

  “Never more so, Ben. I feel that there’s a rightness to all of this. The cottage, the village, Dorset. Everything. In fact I feel so good about it, I’m going to buy you a drink. Come on!” She swanned into the saloon bar of The Lamb, infusing a cocktail of Karen Walker and Chanel into the midst of the astonished customers, as though it were one of her Sunday haunts in London. Who was more surprised at what confronted them, Bella or the locals, it was difficult to gauge. Accustomed to a pulsating mix of live music and animated conversation in a crowded venue, the enervated atmosphere of The Lamb came as a rude shock to her.

  “Fly yer back to London, lady?” Ben whispered, in a Cockney accent.

  Chapter Three

  The Lamb appe
ared to have escaped the passage of time that had seen most public houses undergo changes of some description. Changes that had been in some cases modest, some dramatic, and some even final, when commercial reality meant closing the doors for good. The pub stood as a monument to another age, before the invasion of the motor car and prior to the relentless drive for acquisition and profit-making, when a country pub served mainly its local community, and lager and french fries were unheard of. Bella’s eyes took in a scene that had changed little in fifty years. So little, in fact, that one or two of the patrons, who were all eyeing her with undisguised curiosity, would have been drinking here that many years ago.

  “Reckon they must be lost, or been to a fancy dress party,” an old timer muttered, in a thick Dorset accent. His remark generated a ripple of mocking laughter and Bella could feel the colour come to her face as the customers resumed whatever activities they had been involved in before the couple had entered and a low hum of conversation filled the room. They were being ignored now but Bella could sense an atmosphere in the place, an undercurrent of something she couldn't identify. Ben guided her towards the bar, where the landlord, a stout, shortish man, of sixty-plus years was busy washing glasses. A goatee beard, more grey than black, matched his good head of hair. Although his face was chubby, with rounded features, he had small eyes behind his half-rimmed glasses and a narrow mouth with thin lips. Bella was relieved to see that he welcomed them with a smile.

  “Don’t take too much notice of the lads, they tend to be a bit wary of strangers,” he explained, “It’s not often they see folk they don’t know in here. What can I get you?”