The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  “I was just admiring the delicatessen,” Bella explained. “Not what you’d expect to find in these parts.” She received a condescending smile from the chinless woman.

  “Really? My husband’s Greek. We had an importing business in London, before moving down here about five years ago.” Ah, a possible kindred spirit, Bella thought. “The boys run the business up there, now, and we supply restaurants and shops in quite a wide area around here.”

  “And how do you find life in Knapthorne? A little slow after London?” Did the woman bridle at the comment, or was it her imagination, Bella wondered.

  “I’m from Knapthorne, originally,” the woman answered, reverting to her native accent and drawing out the first syllable. We ‘ad some pretty classy customers in London, so I saw fit to drop the accent. Are you just passing through?” The question was posed in her adopted voice.

  “No.” She held out her hand. “My name’s Bella Foxton, I’ve recently moved into…”

  “Willow Cottage, yes.” She completed the sentence before Bella could finish, shaking her hand, briefly as she did so. “We’ve heard all about you. I’m Maureen Aristides and that’s my husband, Paul.” Her arrival was common knowledge then but it was hardly surprising given the fact it was a tightly-knit community. “Everything alright up at the cottage?” The question seemed innocent enough and Bella was heartened by Mrs. Aristides’ interest in her welfare.

  “Yes, it’s wonderful. I’m loving every minute of it!”

  “That’s good, then. I’ll leave you to it, I’ve lots to do this morning. If you can’t find anything, ask Paul.” In no time at all Bella had located the things she was looking for but couldn’t bring to mind what it was she’d forgotten. Paul Aristides was still talking to the two women at the delicatessen but broke off and came over to the counter immediately he saw her approaching.

  “Hello!” The word came out as a deep, gravelly sound, the first consonant pronounced as if he were trying to clear his throat. It was very sexy, and he was a handsome man for his age. He would have been quite something with the girls when he was younger, she guessed, especially with those eyes. Mrs. Aristides didn’t seem his type though.

  “You find everything you want?” His accent took her back to holidays in Greece, redolent of souvlaki and metaxa.

  “Do you have any calimari?” she asked, suddenly prompted by her memories.

  “Yes, we do. Would you like some?”

  “Please!” Bella’s taste buds were drooling now. “And some taramosalata, a few olives and pita bread.”

  Delighted by the unexpected pleasure of having discovered the delicatessen, she left the shop looking forward to her lunch. Traffic along the main street had got a little busier, and there were several vehicles parked along the road now, including a large lorry directly in front of her Alfa. She could almost taste the taramosalata and the olives as she got into the car and started it up, wanting to get home and sample the food, even though it was well before mid-day. As she started to pull out, her mobile phone rang and she leaned forward, to pick it up, losing concentration, momentarily. The next thing she heard was a horrible screaming of tyres on the road surface and she flashed a look in her rear-view mirror. The small glass panel was filled with a vision of an out-of-control vehicle skidding towards her and she suddenly braced herself for the impact, head down, hands around the back of her neck. Only the actions of the other driver prevented what could have been a serious accident. Bella had pulled out without looking, distracted by the sound of the phone, into the path of the oncoming vehicle. Instinctively, the driver had hit the brakes but realised the resulting skid was propelling him into the back of Bella’s Alfa. In a split-second reaction, seeing the road ahead was clear, he took his foot off the brake and hit the accelerator. Steering his vehicle across the road and away from Bella’s, the engine roaring, he managed to avoid slamming straight into the back of her and, instead, gave her car a healthy side-swipe as he passed, yanking on the wheel to bring it back across the road at nearly full power. By the time he’d got it under control and brought it to a halt, he was fully two hundred yards down the road.

  Sweating profusely, his heart pounding, he looked back over his shoulder, through the Range Rover’s large rear windscreen at Bella’s car, halted at an odd angle, behind the truck. As the road behind was clear, he slammed the stick into reverse and, with a screech of tyres, sped back towards her with just one thing on his mind. As if he’d been doing it all his life, the vehicle hurtled backwards, in a dead straight line towards Bella’s car. When a few yards away, almost as a single action, he slammed on the brakes, whipped the stick into park, turned the engine off and was out the door in a matter of seconds. By this time a small crowd had gathered, from the shops and houses nearby, to witness what was, for Knapthorne, a major incident.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” Outraged at the stupidity of the other motorist, his senses distorted by anger, the man had leaned down and shouted the abuse at the other driver through the car’s open window. People in the crowd turned to one another, commenting on the obscenity, as the man reached for the handle and wrenched the door open. Bella was leaning forward, arms on the wheel, resting her head and sobbing, noiselessly, her face covered by the broad sweep of her hair. Clinically speaking, she was in shock and not even fully aware of the man at her side. At the sound of the door opening she turned her tear-stained face up towards him and he stayed his hand as he was reaching out to grab her. He had been ready to pull her out of the car but a sudden change came over him. For the briefest of moments, he looked confused.

  “Are you alright?” One look at her had defused his temper, as if it were the hot flame of a candle suddenly snuffed out. Her gorgeous hair, big, sad eyes and soft, pouting lips combined in a way that took his breath away, and his anger. She was stunning. Bella nodded, slowly, causing a sharp stab of pain to lance from her neck and down her back, making her start, and she gasped.

  “Bit of whiplash, maybe. Come on, let me help you out and then we’ll see if we can get your car out of the way.” As he spoke, he reached in to help her out of the car, while, to his left, someone had begun to direct any passing traffic around the scene.

  “Easy does it, now,” he urged, as she slowly swung her legs around, cautious of the fact that she might trigger another burst of pain. Gingerly, she lowered her head and allowed the stranger to gently pull her forward until she was on her feet. Then she exhaled, closing her eyes.

  “There, that’s better,” he said, all concern now, his relief obvious as he waited for her to collect herself. “Come on, let’s get you off the road,” he suggested, taking her arm and leading her towards the pavement. “We don’t want another accident, do we?’ There was genuine compassion in his voice and Bella allowed him to escort her away from danger. Several people were at the roadside, looking concerned, among them, the Greek, Paul Aristides.

  “Bring her into my shop and she can sit down. It’s just over here.” He pointed to the General Store, as he spoke, and the stranger nodded, with a smile, to convey his thanks as he prompted Bella to move in the direction of the shop. Still stunned by what had happened, she let herself be guided by the stranger’s firm hands thankful that someone was looking after her. The small crowd parted to let her through then made to follow the pair, led by the Greek, towards the shop. Sensing what was happening, the stranger looked back over his shoulder.

  “I think the show’s over don’t you?” he said to them, his tone leaving them in no doubt that their company wasn’t appreciated and the little knot of people began to disperse, in ones and twos, some of them proceeding to air their opinions on recent events.

  “How are you feeling now?” It was the guttural voice of the Greek.

  “A lot better, thank you.” He had brought her a glass of water and a couple of pain killers. They were out the back of the shop, in a small kitchen area. Bella was seated at a table and the stranger was standing in the doorway to the shop, quietly tal
king into his mobile.

  “I don’t think our friend was very happy with your driving!” The light danced in the Greek’s eyes and a broad grin lit up his face, as he spoke. “You did not see him coming, perhaps?”

  “I did not see him coming, perhaps,” Bella echoed softly. Her head had begun to throb and she did not feel at all well. “What’s happened to my car, do you know?” It was an effort for her to speak and she swayed, a little, on the chair.

  “I think they have pushed it to the side of the road. I will look, if you like?”

  “That’s very good of you. Thank you.” She lifted her head to look at him, was rewarded by a stabbing pain behind her eyes, and sucked in her breath sharply. A look of concern clouded the Greek’s normally sunny features.

  “You are not well, I think?”

  “I’ll be fine, honestly.” She mustered the best smile she could for him. “I’d really like to know about the car. Could you check on the damage for me, please?”

  “N’daxi. Of course. I will go and look.” He edged his way past the man in the doorway and was gone. The stranger concluded his conversation and came over to her. It was Bella’s first opportunity to have a really good look at him. The first thing that struck her was that he obviously wasn’t a local. Anything but. His body language gave off an aura of self-assurance and she remembered his stinging attack after the accident. It made her shiver. Not being good at putting an age on people she would have thought he was possibly in his early thirties, maybe a little older. Taller than Ben, he was more solid too and had a rugged, handsome face with deep-set green eyes. Short, curly hair the colour of coconut matting was flecked with silver and betrayed no sign of a parting. Demonstrating his concern he squatted down in front of her, intent on finding out how she was. His face was only inches from hers and, as unwell as she undoubtedly was, Bella realised that he really was most attractive.

  “How are you feeling now? You should really see a doctor, you know."

  “Nonsense, I'm fine. A little knocked about, otherwise ok.” Their eyes met for the first time and she felt a familiar, pleasant sensation grip her. “Look, I’m sorry about the accident. It was so careless of me.” He laid a hand on her wrist, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do, in a reassuring gesture.

  “An error of judgement,” he said politely, with a grin, letting her off the hook. “And I must apologise for my appalling behaviour. I was a bit overwrought!” Bella was more than a little relieved to hear him say so.

  “That makes us even, then.” He stood up slowly, wincing as he did so, and it was Bella’s turn to show concern.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Don’t mind me, I’m fine. It’s just that the knees aren’t what they were.” Deep wrinkles formed around his eyes when he smiled. “I’m Kyle, by the way. Kyle Lucas.” She took his outstretched hand, briefly.

  “Bella Foxton. Helluva way to meet!” At that moment, the Greek came back into the room. He gave a short, humourless laugh. It was a deep, throaty sound.

  “Is not good news with your car, I am afraid.” They both looked at him, awaiting the news.

  “She is smashed up, pretty bad, at the back. On the side of the driver. I don’t think you will be driving home, Miss Foxton.” He put the accent on the last syllable of her name. Tears sprang to her eyes and she covered her mouth with one hand.

  “What am I going to do? How am I going to get it repaired?” Bella hated sounding like a weak female but she just didn’t feel up to facing the situation. It would have been so different in London. There was a despairing look in her eyes as both men exchanged glances. The Greek made his opinion obvious, in a typical gesture, with a down-turned mouth and a shrug of the shoulders,

  “I think I might be able to help there,” Kyle chipped in, and Bella couldn’t believe her luck.

  “Seriously?” She didn’t know if he was only saying it to be kind.

  “I grew up not too far from here and I’m sure I can pull a few strings to get someone out here.” He sounded so confident that it was just the tonic she needed. The morning certainly hadn’t gone the way she’d planned, with all thoughts of her lunch long forgotten. Kyle addressed the Greek.

  “Have you got a telephone directory?” Paul Aristides nodded and went back into the shop, returning a few moments later with the bulky volume.

  “Whereabouts do you live, anyway?” Kyle asked her, as he leafed through the pages, grateful for having the opportunity to find out. The question was put in an off-hand manner but there was no way he wanted her walking out of his life, if he could help it, even though he knew nothing whatsoever about her.

  Within twenty minutes of Kyle making a number of phone calls, Bella was back home, quite unable to believe the series of events which had befallen her. Here she was locked away in the depths of Dorset, trying to create fiction, while fate was filling the pages of her life with an all-action drama. In no time at all, once he had found the person he was looking for, Kyle had arranged for someone to come out, with a trailer, and pick up her car as it was, like the Greek had correctly assumed, undriveable. If she wished, they would bring a car for her to use in the meantime, as it sounded, from Kyle’s description, that it would be at least a week before they would have the Alfa back. Pulling up in her driveway, outside Willow Cottage, Kyle was taking it all in, silently impressed with Bella’s circumstances.

  “Here, don’t you move,” he warned her, as she made to open the door and get out. “I’ll come round and help you.”

  “I’m not an invalid!” she retorted, good-humouredly, feeling markedly better than she had thirty minutes ago, although she was experiencing some stiffness in her neck and back. Ignoring her plea, he was round at her door and offering his hand to help her down, as soon as she had the door open.

  “That is quite a bit of damage, you know,” Bella was quite shocked now, looking at the battered panels of the Range Rover, once again. He had brushed aside her earlier comments when she had first seen the damage, as she had got in, saying that it could have been far worse, as could her injuries. In response to her wish to look at the Alfa, he had told her, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn’t let her. Remember it as it was, his advice had been, and when you get it back it’ll be like nothing had happened. She had protested but he remained adamant, saying that it would serve no purpose and, grudgingly, she had finally agreed. It had been a long, long time since she had let a man take control of a situation in her life and the fact wasn’t lost on her as she had let him help her up into his vehicle. A quick study of his big, strong hands revealed no evidence of a wedding ring and, for a moment, her heart had beat a tiny bit faster.

  Relief flooded over her as she got inside the cottage, happy to be home at last. All Bella had wanted to do was post her letters and get some milk. Who ever would have thought things would have turned out as they did, she wondered. If she hadn’t have stopped to buy the taramasalata…

  “My lunch!” Bella cried, in alarm.

  “Eh?” Kyle had not the least idea what she was talking about.

  “Before the accident, I’d just bought some things from the delicatessen…” She looked so distraught, Kyle had to put her out of her misery.

  “They weren’t in a small blue plastic bag, were they.” Bella nodded, drawing in her breath sharply at the pain in her neck.

  “You, ok?” Kyle asked, quickly, reaching out a hand towards her.

  “Yes, really. I’m more concerned about my lunch. What about this blue plastic bag?”

  “I took it from your car. And the phone. I’ll go and get them.” Bella sat herself in an armchair and closed her eyes feeling some of the tension drain away but she suddenly saw the image in her rear-view mirror, the Range-Rover hurtling towards her and she opened her eyes, with a start. It was still all too recent and it was apparent that her recovery would take a little time.

  “Here we are!” Kyle was holding up the items as he came in through the lobby and walked towards her. “Where do you
want the food?”

  “In the kitchen, through there, please. I’ll take the phone though.” As he walked away, Bella checked to see if there were any messages. Going through the access procedure, she was interrupted by a dreadful screeching sound from the direction of the kitchen and watched, in amazement, as the cat raced into the room. It stopped abruptly, turned, and arched its back. With its tail pointed ramrod straight into the air it looked down the passageway and hissed, alarmingly, as Kyle approached.

  “Would you mind calling off your four-legged vampire." Bella got out of her seat, amazed at the reaction of the cat but able to see the funny side of it. Holding her hand out and clicking her fingers, she tried to entice it away but it didn’t look like moving. Then, as she reached down to pick it up, it gave a loud miaow and headed for the stairs.

  “Ok, you can come out now. It’s gone. Last seen going upstairs.” He appeared from the passageway, one hand held over the other with blood running down his wrist.

  “Oh, you’re hurt!” she cried, seeing the blood.

  “The little sod attacked me as soon as it saw me!” Something in his eyes warned her not to laugh, although she wanted to.

  “I hope you don’t always have this effect on animals.” She still felt a bit light-headed and would rather have been sitting down but she couldn’t leave him like that. Not after everything he’d done for her.

  “Here, let me take a look at it.” Carefully, she took his hand in hers and looked at the damage. They were standing just inches apart.

  “Not interruptin’ anythin’ is I?” So wrapped up in each other were they that the sound of Cora Flint's loud voice startled them both. She had come in through the lobby after Kyle had left the door open.