The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  “Where are the others?” she had asked, in all seriousness, but then her face began to soften as she got the picture.

  “Lock the door, behind you, would you please Ms Richmond.”

  The trees had turned out to be a small copse covering about half an acre. Although the track continued through the middle and, as Bella could now see, on to the village she felt that she’d come far enough for her first outing. Even though she was feeling exhilarated from walking, it was uphill for most of the way back and she was also beginning to get hungry. The track was quite wide, big enough for, say, a tractor or other farm equipment and Bella had noticed one or two similar paths going off to the left and the right. It opened up possibilities for further exploration on future walks. With a determined step, she began the journey back in excellent spirits due not only to the fresh air and exercise but also through hearing from Ben. She enjoyed his company and had found him charming and funny. He had been frank about his marriage but did that mean he could be trusted? You just never knew with men but she had a good feeling about Ben. He hadn’t lied to her, after all. Bella found that she was enjoying herself immensely. The walking was certainly doing her good but she had discovered that it gave her the opportunity to think very clearly and this caused her to smile. Maybe she had found the means by which to come up with the idea for the book. It occurred to her that she ought to invest in a good pair of walking boots as she reached the brow of the hill and looked down on her property. It wasn’t long before she was back into the welcoming warmth of Willow Cottage. Back home. Strange to say, even though she had only just got to know the place, there was a familiarity about it that gave it the feel of home, more so than there had ever been with her apartment. That had a transitory feeling to it which she hadn’t recognised until now. Also, being in the heart of the metropolis, with its fast-paced lifestyle, it was now so comforting to be away from the crowds.

  Bliss. She savoured the word knowing how fortunate she was but she didn’t dwell on it, eagerly looking forward to a snack and a glass of wine, happy to settle for a heat’n’eat ready-made lasagne later. Pleased with her day’s work and the fact that she had actually been out for a walk, she collapsed into one of the three large armchairs in the lounge, content that she had earned a rest, and put her feet up. Feeling she’d earned it, she took the glass of wine from the table next to the chair and was about to drink from it when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Uncertain of what it could be, she turned to get a better look when something leapt towards her and she screamed, dropping the glass on the wooden floor where it shattered noisily. The cat would have landed on her lap, had she not screamed, but it jumped straight off and headed for the kitchen as Bella fought to regain her composure.

  Properly awake now, and listening to the birds, she smiled as she recalled the incident from the previous evening. It had been a memorable day, for a number of reasons, and the cat was only one of them. When she had gone to the kitchen, the cat was sitting there, large as life, as if nothing had happened and came up to smoodge her ankles. How the cat had come to be in the house was a mystery, as Bella had left everything locked when she had gone out. She would have to make sure there was no opportunity for larger intruders to get in. With that thought in mind, she finally, managed to sum up the willpower to throw the duvet off and get out of bed. Dawn had brightened the room by now and she pulled the curtains back to reveal a mottled canvas of blue and grey sky.

  “The first day of the rest of my life,” she murmured, “so let’s make it worthwhile.” As if in agreement, a strident miaow greeted her comment and she looked down to see the cat.

  “I shut you out, last night, you little devil! How did you get back in?” The sleek animal stood on its back legs, momentarily, and rubbed its head against Bella’s knee. “Don’t think you can get round me that easily!” She bent down to pick it up but it avoided her hands and leapt up onto the bed.

  “Ok, play it your way. I’m going to have a shower, there’s work to be done.” As she crossed to the bathroom, Bella realised that her aches and pains had, at last, disappeared and was pleased to feel generally better. She pondered over the fact of whether it had been the busy day, the exercise or hearing from Ben which had contributed to the improvement. Whatever it was, the shower was the icing on the cake and she emerged fit and raring to face the new day.

  For three hours, after having had a light breakfast, Bella had played around with ideas, scanned through endless files of notes and perused recent newspaper clippings, all as an aid to stimulating her imagination. Half-heartedly, she had begun to create the opening of a novel based on genetic engineering, simply to get the feel of writing again. It was a sort of sequel to Lingering Doubts, where euthanasia had been banned by a global decree and it was now possible to keep people alive until they were 150 years old or more. As she wrote, Bella began to find the prospect of prolonging death indefinitely depressing in the extreme, picturing people getting smaller and more wrinkled with every passing year. Until they became what? Wood lice? It was time for a break. Bella leaned back, stretching her arms, happy to be back at the keyboard and eager to proceed. On a small table next to her computer desk was one of the purchases she had bought in Dorchester, the previous day. Coffee was not only an important part of her day, she found it essential in stimulating the brain and feared she might be drinking copious amounts in the days and weeks to come until the drought of ideas had passed. The aroma from the percolator on the table filled the room as Bella poured herself another cup and looked up at the sun streaming through the windows.

  ‘What could be more perfect?’ she thought. ‘I am so lucky.’ It wasn’t difficult to understand how her mother got inspiration for her paintings from her surroundings. ‘Maria would just love it here. I must get her to come over.’ The idea appealed to her so much that she had the urge to call her right away, there and then.

  “It’ll give me something to look forward to!” she announced to the cat, who had been curled up at her feet, as she picked up her mobile and swiped the screen. She searched for her mother’s number, in Contacts, hit the dial icon and waited for the call to be answered. It didn’t take long.

  “Maria? Mama? It’s Bella. I want you to come over and see the cottage. You’ll love it!” The excitement in her voice was undisguised.

  “Bella! How nice to hear from you again, so soon.”

  “I just had to call you. I know you’d love it down here. Do you think you’ll be able to get over?” Light-hearted laughter greeted her question.

  “It certainly sounds as though you’ve fallen in love with it but I may not be able to get over for a while. Marcello and I are off to Capri for a couple of weeks, maybe longer.” Marcello? Bella didn’t know the name but had long since ceased being surprised at her mother’s appetite for younger men.

  “Oh, what a pity!” Crestfallen, it came over in her voice. “And I was so looking forward to your company.”

  “I’ll phone you as soon as I get back.” Her mother paused while considering whether to say something or not. “I haven’t heard from Laura again,” she commented, eventually. “Have you?” At the mention of her sister’s name, Bella found it hard not to be rude, even to her mother.

  “Yes, I have,” she replied coldly, “and I’d rather not discuss it.”

  “Oh, as bad as that is it? Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.” I wish you hadn’t, Bella thought. Still, too late now. “You enjoy yourself and don’t work too hard. I’ll come and see you as soon as I can.” After she had said goodbye and put the phone down, Bella immediately regretted having rung. From being on a high, at the thought of her mother coming over, she now not only felt disappointed but also annoyed at being reminded of her sister. It seemed highly unlikely that she would get back in the right frame of mind for working.

  “Damn!” Bella exclaimed loudly, causing the cat to raise it’s head slowly and stare at her. “And it’s no good you looking at me like that, either!” she told it. “Laying
there without a care in the world. I’ll bet you’re glad you haven’t got a sister like mine!” Try as she might, it was now impossible to concentrate with alien thoughts running through her mind. It didn’t do to make your mind up that things were going to happen, she reminded herself. First, there was Ben and now her mother. It didn’t look like either of them would be visiting soon. The irony of it was, of course, that Laura, who she would have willingly paid to stay away, looked like the only person who’d be turning up on her doorstep.

  “I suppose,” Bella said, addressing the cat, “that as soon you worm your way into my affections, you’ll take off too.” Unable to continue, Bella felt the need for fresh air and she also needed to go to the village store and get some milk. Not having allowed for the cat, which appeared to have hollow legs, her milk supply had rapidly dwindled. Stepping outside into the warmth of a bright but cloudy summer’s day immediately raised her spirits and she realised how easy it was to become introspective, shut away in the room upstairs. It was something she would have to watch, but she was convinced that everything would change once the book was under way.

  All of a sudden she was looking forward to some human contact. There was a need to keep a balance, she felt. It was the ideal situation, as a creative environment, but she had no intention of becoming a recluse or starving herself of company. And then there was sex, a subject that she had been thinking about more than she was willing to admit, recently. Thinking back, her last relationship had ended nearly five months ago. Five months! When she had been busy promoting the book it wasn’t that other things didn’t seem to matter. There had been no time for anything else. Now she had the time, she didn’t have the means. It was all so unfair! And, again, if she was prepared to spend most of her time at the cottage, what chance was there of finding a suitable partner among the turnip folk. The memory of Jane’s comment brought a smile to her face as she got into the car but the way Bella felt it was no laughing matter.

  It occurred to her as, she drove into Knapthorne, that perhaps she hadn’t thought through too well the prospect of being at the cottage by herself. Although the over-riding priority was to complete the book, her situation raised the question of at what cost? Perhaps it was going to be too far from London for people to want to make the trip. That was a possibility. Also, not being in a relationship, it was unlikely that anything would happen while she was tucked away down here. The thought of being celibate for too much longer seriously concerned her. A woman had needs and hers had been neglected for too long. As she waited at the junction, to turn left for Knapthorne, she gently squeezed her legs together.

  “So Alfie’s quite taken with me, is he Cora?.” She burst into laughter. “Now that’d give his sister a bit of a shock, wouldn’t it?”

  There was naturally going to be a settling in period and it became clear to Bella that she would have to give herself time to adjust. On reflection, she had taken off from London quickly, in her usual manner, and doubtless she would suffer withdrawal symptoms. It was vital to keep an open mind and not draw comparisons between here and London. Accept it for what it is and get on with it, she concluded. A thought sprang to mind. Wouldn’t it be nice to have Jane down for the weekend and just talk girls’ talk, the two of us. And maybe she can come up with some ideas for the book. Yes! Why don’t I ring her now? Needing to go to the Post Office, to get some stamps, Bella indicated to pull in, to her left, where the three parking spaces outside the Post Office were vacant. Three vacant spaces! You could live in Holland Park for ten years and never see three vacant spaces one in front of the other. Before she forgot, she reached for her phone intending to ring Jane.

  “Now hold on Foxton,” she cautioned herself, before she had even dialled the first number. “Have you learned nothing from today?” Grudgingly, she replaced the phone in the space under the dashboard. “Now go and do your shopping.” Wasting no time, she got out of the car and went to make her purchase, although her mind was elsewhere, thinking about Jane and Laura, Ben, her mother and how other people affected her own life.

  “Can I help you?” Bella was standing by the wire grille at the counter of the shop. The light wasn’t good inside and she hadn’t noticed the woman behind the counter. She was old and bent, with a face that looked like all the air had been sucked out of it. Her scalp was visible through thinning, grey hair and spectacles dangled from a chain around her neck.

  “Sorry,” Bella apologised. “I didn’t see you there. I’d like some stamps, please. I’ve just got two letters, to go to London.” She held them up for the woman to see. Moving as if in slow motion, the woman produced a small folder containing stamps from under the counter.

  “Not seen you before,” the woman said, in a small, rasping voice.

  “No. I’m new to the village,” Bella confessed, giving her a broad smile, although she still had her head in the folder, apparently having problems tearing the stamps out. Probably hasn’t got the strength, poor thing, Bella thought.

  “You’d be up at Willow Cottage, then?” She had finally detached the stamps and pushed them forward on the counter.

  “Yes. Yes, that’s right,” Bella confirmed, realising that everyone in the village must be aware of the fact by now.

  “That’ll be one pound forty pence, then.” Bella passed over two, one pound coins. “Likin’ it up there, are you?” the old woman asked as she took the money in her slim, bony fingers, the skin on her hand almost opaque. The question was unexpected and Bella stared at her for a moment.

  “Very much,” she replied, once she had found her voice. “I’m enjoying being here. It makes such a change from London.” The old woman’s eyes widened, briefly.

  “Ain’t never been to London. Never been and never likely to, not now. Not that I’d want to, not at my time of life.” She rung up Bella’s purchase and took the change from the till, pushing the money under the grille. “People like me’s ‘appy to die in Knapthorne not having seen London. Not like some.” Without a smile or a thank you, she turned away, leaving Bella, slightly nonplussed, holding her change.

  “Well that was a cheerful little encounter,” she remarked, softly, as she walked outside into the sunshine, licking each stamp then placing it on the envelope. A car door slammed, making her look up. Someone had just got out from a car parked beside hers and was busy locking the door. Two cars drove past, not at excessive speed, in the direction of Spinney Lane, then a lorry appeared coming towards her from the other direction. Picturing in her mind’s eye, the chaos at the Shepherd’s Bush roundabout, at this time of the morning, she conceded that the old girl in the Post Office might have a point.

  “Mornin’ miss.” The stout old gentleman who had just locked his car, greeted her as they passed, even raising his hat.

  “Good morning!” she replied, merrily. “It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?”

  “’Tis that an’all!” he answered, over his shoulder, disappearing into the gloom of the shop.

  “’Tis that an’all!” Bella repeated, as she got into her car.

  The general store was a little further down the road, she had discovered, in a block of four similar-sized shops which between them seemed to cater for the basic needs of the village. It wasn’t that far away that she couldn’t have walked, but old habits were hard to shake off. In London, you didn’t walk anywhere. Only two cars were parked in front of the parade of shops so she slipped the Alfa into the space next to the nearest one.

  “Now, what do I need? Milk, for sure. Fruit. Breakfast cereal and tissues.” She looked thoughtful. “There was something else, what was it?” Why hadn’t she made a list? Too much on her mind, obviously. She got out of the car and locked it, as she tried to remember what else it was she wanted but without success. On entering the store, Bella was delighted to discover that, as well as the usual groceries and provisions one might expect to find, the shop also featured a small delicatessen. There appeared to be an accent on Greek fare, with taramasalata, hummus, pita bread, feta cheese and olives th
at she could recognise, plus some other dips that she couldn’t. In addition there were a range of meats, salami and sausages together with a number of salads. The only people in the shop, two middle-aged women, were at the counter in animated conversation with the man serving them who, at first glance, did not appear to be a local. Possibly in his late forties or early fifties, he had that swarthy look of someone from the Arabic countries or, maybe, the Mediterranean. Like he hadn’t shaved for a day or two. There was a constant smile on his big, round face and his dark eyes sparkled as he spoke with his customers. The impression was of a man who enjoyed life, enjoyed women. Dressed for his part behind the counter, he wore a blue apron with thin, horizontal stripes, over a long-sleeved shirt and sported a straw boater, at a jaunty angle, on his head. A more unlikely character to have found in the middle of Knapthorne, she could not imagine.

  “Good morning.” The woman’s voice, which made her jump, came from behind her and Bella turned to see who it was. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a fright! Is there anything I can help you with?” It was said, with a smile, by a woman about the same height as Bella but around fifteen or twenty years older. Her grey hair was permed and taken back off her longish face, which was given depth by the fact she didn’t appear to have a chin. With her small, glassy eyes and tight mouth it gave her a slightly odd, cyprinoid, look which Bella found vaguely comical.