The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  “So, my little friend, it looks like Mrs. Flint, is here to stay, wouldn’t you say?” The cat miaowed, stridently, which Bella felt was open to interpretation, then it jumped onto the dressing table and sat beside the flowers. Suddenly, Bella felt extraordinarily hungry and realised she had eaten nothing all day. Returning to the kitchen, she was at a loss to know what to get herself and opened the fridge to check its contents. She found the plate of ham salad Cora had left for her and, as she took it to the table, saw the note which had fallen on the floor.

  'Lunch is in the fridge with a few other things and I’ve put a few bits in the pantry.' It was written in a small hand, though the letters had large loops, making it very distinctive. It was simply signed CF. For a few seconds, Bella stared at it, in amazement, unable to believe the woman had gone to so much trouble, but extremely grateful nonetheless for her kindness. Then she recalled that the first time Cora Flint had turned up, she hadn’t come empty-handed either, so she was obviously a very thoughtful person. Why was it, then, that she appeared to be so different? Why had she erected this barrier around herself? People were strange, experience had taught her that and she was as guilty as anyone for taking people at face value. It was a human failing, nothing more. But Bella had sometimes found, to her cost, and especially with the men in her life, that people were often not what they seemed and because she was basically trusting and decent, she had ended up getting hurt. She couldn’t change her nature, besides, she liked the person she was. She could only hope that she’d become a better judge of character but, if her new housekeeper were anything to go by, the signs weren’t very promising.

  Bella felt the urge to share her experiences of what had happened lately and knew she just had to ring Jane, whatever the outcome. Perhaps if she thought really positively about Jane coming for the weekend then she’d be able to make it. With lunch over, and still in her dressing gown at gone 3-o-clock, she keyed in the number and the call was answered by the secretary. To her relief, Jane came on the line, almost immediately.

  “Bella, darling! How’s Tina Turnip?” As irrepressible as ever, it was just the sound Bella needed to hear.

  “Enough of your abuse, Bentley. Just tell me when you’re going to get yourself down here!”

  “You’ve only been there a few days! Missing your friends already, are you, or just fed up with talking to yourself?”

  “Nothing of the sort. I’ve had an action-packed time and just wanted to tell you about it. And I’ve met the most gorgeous man…”

  “You’re kidding!” Jane’s voice exploded down the phone. “How’d you manage to do that, darling? Have you got a job apple-picking, or something?” Bella couldn’t suppress her laughter.

  “Of course not! I nearly wrote off my car in the process but it was almost worth it. When I see you, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “You just can’t be trusted to be left by yourself, can you? What’s he like, tell me? Come on, I demand to know. And make it quick, I’ve got an appointment in five minutes.”

  “I’m not telling, leastways, not over the phone. If you want to find out, you’ll have to come down!”

  “Well, it is funny that you rang, because I was going to call you tomorrow and find out what you were up to this weekend. I just fancied a bit of the country life…”

  “You weren’t, were you?” Bella said, in disbelief. “Jane, that’s wonderful!” It was just the tonic she needed. “When do you want to come down?” Jane studied her diary, for a moment, before answering.

  “If I pack a bag and bring it in with me, tomorrow, I could leave, say, mid-afternoon and be there around 5.30, six-o-clock. How’s that sound, darling?”

  “Bloody marvellous! Oh, Jane, I can’t wait. There’s so much to tell you!”

  “What have you been getting up to down there? How’s the book coming on, anyway?” The comment brought Bella back down to earth, with a bump.

  “Still kicking ideas around. Nothing to get my teeth into yet. That’s one of the things I want to talk to you about…”

  “Alright. Look, I’ve got to go, so how about you give me directions to Turnip Cottage…”

  Not surprisingly, it was closer to seven-o-clock by the time Jane arrived on the Friday evening but Bella was just pleased to see her, happy that she’d arrived safely, welcoming her with open arms and a big hug, as if they hadn’t seen each other for years.

  “So this is it, is it?” she commented, hands on hips, surveying the cottage from the outside. In a canary yellow sweater and trousers that were somewhere between orange and red, her arrival had brightened up Bella’s day in more ways than one.

  “Can I give you a hand with anything?”

  “No, I’ve only got this, sweetie,” Jane replied, hefting a large, black nylon bag on her shoulder. And these are for you,” she added, holding out a plastic bag, containing four bottles of wine.

  “That should see us through tonight! Come on in. I’ll show you your room then you can freshen up.” Jane thought her friend looked a bit on the pale side and was walking a little stiffly as she followed her up the stairs.

  “How did the accident happen, then?” she asked, breathing a little heavily with the effort. “I suppose you saw this guy walking along and took your eyes off the road. Terrible thing, desperation, darling!”

  “Jane!” The one syllable was stretched out, in reproof, as Bella looked over her shoulder. “It was nothing of the sort. Here we are!” They had reached the doorway to the second double bedroom. “I’ll leave you to it. See you downstairs, when you’re ready.”

  Knowing Jane wouldn’t want her to go to any trouble, she had prepared a simple meal consisting of quiche and a salad, with a chilled chardonnay to accompany it. It was a girl’s weekend and that meant catching up on the gossip, and news, and generally enjoying each other’s company. Work, and that included cooking, was to be kept to a minimum. As different as they were in just about every way, it was no impediment to their relationship, in fact it was probably one of the reasons why they got on so well, there was no competition between them. Jane’s tongue was certainly sharper than Bella’s but she had an infinite capacity to laugh at herself too, and make Bella laugh, into the bargain. Jane envied Bella her looks and refinement but, by the same token, liked her because she was so natural and feminine, playing down her attributes. When the gloves were off, after a couple of glasses, they were like two naughty schoolgirls swapping secrets.

  “Give me your arm!” Bella ordered. They were in the lounge, the meal over, Bella seated at one end of the sofa and Jane in one of the armchairs across from her.

  “What?” Jane screwed her eyes up, mystified by the request. Why?”

  “Just do as your told!” Bella instructed, and, reluctantly, Jane complied. In a swift movement, Bella removed Jane’s wristwatch then sat back, drawing her feet up underneath her. “Now you can really, relax!” she told an astonished Jane who had forgotten Bella’s little trick. “The weekend begins here!” Jane reacted with a smile which, in turn, developed into a broad grin.

  “I must say it does feel good to be down here,” she admitted, stretching her arms wide and taking a deep breath. She exhaled, feeling more relaxed than she had done for a long time. “Ok, darling, let’s have it. Tell me what’s been going on!”

  Bella refilled their glasses and they both got themselves comfortable. Behind Jane, and therefore unnoticed by her, the cat padded silently down the stairs then bounded over to the sofa. It settled down at the opposite end to Bella.

&nb
sp; “Who’s is that?” She couldn’t recall Bella having mentioned anything about an animal. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Good question,” she retorted. “I’ll come to that later…”

  “Sounds very mysterious. I can’t wait!” Jane was as excited as a young child who’d just spotted the presents under the Christmas tree.

  “D’you believe in fate, Jane? You know, some sort of a guiding influence that affects us all, from time to time.”

  “This isn’t going to take long, is it?” Jane enquired. “I’m only here for the weekend, remember.”

  “No! You know what I mean, come on! It’s just that it seems that everything that’s happened, since this place came into my possession, feels as though it was meant to be…”

  “I felt that way when I had my first IUD fitted…” There wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face.

  “Jane! If you’re not going to take this seriously, I might as well go to bed.”

  “Alright!” Her hands were raised in mock surrender. “I do want to hear all about it. It’s just me unwinding from work, take no notice. If I do it again, throw the cat at me.” There was a look of contrition on her face. “But I won’t, honestly, I promise!” Bella glowered at her and made to reach for the cat, which was sleeping peacefully, but decided to return to her story.

  “I had no idea what this place was going to be like, other than a glamorised picture in my imagination…”

  “It’s not damn bad though, is it?” Jane volunteered, and Bella nodded her agreement.

  “A few days after the reading of the will, I came down here with Rupert’s solicitor. Remember I told you?” Jane raised her eyebrows but said nothing. “You’d like him, Bentley. Tall, slim, good-looking. Healthy outdoor type…”

  “I prefer the healthy indoor type, darling,” she interjected, “but carry on.”

  “We flew down, by helicopter, no less!” Now Jane remembered. “Then we had a quick look round before going to the pub for lunch. Well, that was an experience in itself and my initiation into the local community. To say we got the cold shoulder was putting it mildly?”

  “Really? Why was that?” Bella gave a deep sigh.

  “Oh, a variety of reasons, I think, but primarily because we were strangers and dressed so much differently to the locals. I mean they were all regulars! Been going there for ever, I should imagine. And the landlord! His name is Samuel Handysides, isn’t that lovely? And I made the mistake of calling him Sam! My name is Samuel, Miss, not Sam,” she mimicked, in a bass voice. “Samuel I was christened and Samuel I shall die!” It was enough to set Jane off and she was rolling around in the armchair.

  “Is that what he said?” She couldn’t contain herself. “Samuel Handysides, indeed. Now if that’s not straight out of Thomas Hardy, I don’t know what is!”

  “But that’s it, exactly!” Bella cried. “Things haven’t changed round here, in years. Especially the clientele at The Lamb!”

  “We are going to this museum, I take it, sometime over the weekend, are we?”

  “Definitely,” Bella enthused, “it’s part of the grand tour, so be prepared.” Jane was shaking her head, in disbelief.

  “What’s the matter?

  “It’s just the thought of Bella Foxton, one-time queen of London’s night life, being tucked away in Turnip Land.”

  “Jane! I wish you wouldn’t refer to Knapthorne as Turnip Land.”

  “Well, sorry darling but by your description it doesn’t sound as though I’m far wrong, does it?”

  “That was only my first impression,” she replied, defensively. “Here have another drink.”

  Bella described her second visit to the cottage, and to The Lamb, and Jane was thinking that perhaps she had been a little hasty in giving Knapthorne its title. Then she heard about Mrs. Flint.

  “Bella, darling, this is outrageous! If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were making all this up. Samuel Handysides, Cora Flint. What are you worrying about your book for. You’ve got a novel unfolding under your nose, by the sounds of it!” She looked thoughtful, for a moment. “But tell me more about this solicitor, fellow…”

  “No, not yet, because what you’ve just said might be truer than you think.” The humour went from Jane’s face, at Bella’s statement.

  “How d’you mean?”

  “On that first visit to the pub, I got the definite impression that our frosty reception was, in part, something to do with this place…”

  “Turnip Cott….sorry, Bell. Willow Cottage?”

  “Yes. Don’t ask me why. It was just a feeling. Sixth sense, that sort of thing, and both of us felt the same. Then there was this real odd guy, kinda creepy, you know?”

  “What sort of creepy? Creepy sleazy, creepy nerdy, creepy strange. Stop me and try one.”

  “Creepy, strange, I suppose you’d say. The landlord said he’d been involved in an accident on the farm, brain damage or something…”

  “What about him?” Jane asked, beginning to get excited. “Did he try coming on to you, or what?” Bella shot Jane an extremely disparaging look.

  “Jane, do you have to bring everything back to sex?”

  “Well, that’s how everything starts, darling. What d’you expect?” Although she said nothing, Bella realised that Jane hadn’t attempted to look at her watch, yet. A promising sign.

  “Where was I?”

  “Creepy, strange…”

  “Oh, that’s right. Alfie, his name is, and he sort of keeps hinting that he knows something about the cottage.

  “What do you mean, sort of keeps hinting? This’d never stand up in a court of law, you know.”

  “Well, that’s just it. It depends which way you take what he says. Never mind, you’ll be able to see for yourself, tomorrow, probably.”

  “How come?” Jane sounded a little nervous. Like, maybe, her and Alfie were going to be left alone somewhere.

  “He does odd jobs around the pub, so he’s bound to be there.”

  “How old is this Alfie?”

  “Difficult to say. Somewhere between forty and fifty-five, possibly. Oh, and I forgot, he’s Cora Flint’s brother.” Jane looked absolutely astonished at this bit of news.

  “If I were you, darling, I’d get writing straight away. With these characters to hand, even if there wasn’t some dark secret to Willow Cottage it would be worthwhile inventing one, don’t you agree?”

  “We had dinner at an old country pub, before he ran me back to pick up my car.” At Jane’s insistence, Bella had related details of the day she and Ben had spent together, on her first visit to Knapthorne, with Jane hungry for any juicy titbits of information about Ben. It was dark outside now and Bella had pulled the curtains and switched on two of the lamps, to create a cosy atmosphere.

  “And that was it?” Jane sounded disappointed, to say the least.

  “I’ve been to his office and we had lunch after, nothing more.” Jane sat back in her chair, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “You’re losing your touch, Foxton, without a doubt…”

  “He’s a married man, Jane!” Bella reminded her.

  “He’s a man, that’s the point. Handsome and well-heeled, by the sound of it, and unhappy.”
/>   “That’s his story. Anyway, he’s not out of the frame. He’s very keen to come down here and see me…”

  “I bet he is,” Jane interrupted, with a hollow laugh. “Great place for an away game, miles away from his home ground. He’d be away laughing!” Bella was laughing, too.

  “You’re incorrigible, you really are. I’ve told him I don’t want anything serious and that I’d like us to be friends.” Jane hooted with laughter at that.

  “And he was happy with that, was he?”

  “He’s going to have to be. I’ve got to concentrate on the book and I can do without any diversions. Well, as few as possible. And certainly no complications, like an affair with a married man.”

  “Why not just consider it an expression of your artistic temperament, darling?” Jane suggested, holding her empty glass out for a refill. “That you need to be fulfilled, in order to be creative,” she added, dramatically, with a theatrical gesture.

  “Shut up, and drink this,” Bella instructed, handing her the glass back as Jane looked at the space where her watch usually was. “Anyway, I haven’t told you about Kyle yet!”

  “And you say he’s a tv producer?” The journey down after a long day, plus the wine, had mellowed Jane and she had listened, with interest, as Bella recounted the story of how her shopping trip had ended in disaster. Then she told how Kyle had come to the rescue.