The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  “So that’s how you came to be at the cottage?” Bella stretched her arms wide, closed her eyes and turned her face towards the sun. Kyle watched her, his eyes roaming over the soft contours of her upper body, his imagination working overtime.

  “Hmm,” she murmured, lazily. “Oh, I could sit here all day quite easily.” He picked up on the comment immediately.

  “Why don’t I go and get us a coffee and you can tell me all about the country life.” Bella opened one eye and focused on him.

  “Do you hear me arguing?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  For someone who had acquired a new-found interest in cloud formations Bella was enjoying the fact that it was one of those rare occasions where there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. The sky above resembled a magnificent light blue canvas of infinite depth. Suspended within it, the lustrous jewel of the sun, dazzling in its intensity, radiated heat across some ninety three million miles. Kyle had spotted a collection of sun umbrellas, leaning against a wall, when he returned with the coffee. They had been placed there the previous evening when rain had threatened and not been put out again that day. As much as Bella loved the sun and its warmth she agreed the umbrella was a good idea. The shade had created an atmosphere of intimacy between them and they huddled beneath its welcome cover as though they were lovers embroiled in an adulterous affair. She played at stirring her coffee, seemingly mesmerised by its surface, before she spoke.

  “If I find some of this difficult to explain, just bear with me, ok?” she raised her head slightly to look at him and there was an air of vulnerability about her which drew a sympathetic smile in response. It appeared to Kyle that she was uncertain of where or how to start.

  “Is it village life that’s so different?” he suggested, impatient to hear about it.

  “Not exactly. That’s over-simplifying it. Some of the villagers are characters, as you’ve seen, but it’s more to do with Willow Cottage itself.”

  “How so?” Bella looked thoughtful, not replying immediately, giving herself time to get her recollections straight in her own mind.

  “It’s a combination of things I guess. I suppose the best place to start is at The Lamb, the local pub. The first time I visited the cottage I went with my uncle’s solicitor. When we went to the pub, for lunch, we got a cool reception from the locals and I had the distinct impression it was in some way connected with Willow Cottage. Let me tell you also, Kyle, that the place is a total anachronism. It’s like the pub’s clock stopped about thirty or forty years ago while the world outside moved on. Quaint, some people might call it. It reminds me of that old tv series, The Avengers. They were always coming across weird places and strange people.”

  “John Steed and Emma Peel.” Kyle volunteered. “Patrick Macnee was Steed and Emma Peel was played by…?”

  “There were several, I think. Diana Rigg comes to mind.” Bella looked a little annoyed at the interruption, needing to concentrate on what she was saying. “Anyway, there was also a mentally-handicapped chap who helps out in the pub.” A memory stirred her, lighting up her eyes, and she spoke rapidly, with enthusiasm. “You’ve met his sister, Cora Flint, the big woman who came to the cottage.” He thought back, then placed the name and the woman.

  “Ok. I remember.”

  “Well, this chap is her brother and he’s also tied into the history of the cottage. The Flint family used to live there but more of him later.” Bella took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “I also feel that Cora’s involved in some way and, don’t laugh, I felt quite intimidated by her at first. Would you believe she travels around in a pony and trap? Brings my gardener along with her every Thursday.” She saw the amused look on Kyle’s face. “And I thought the pub was strange!”

  Kyle was a good listener, absorbing everything Bella told him about her experiences at Willow Cottage without further interruption. He heard about the arrival of the cat, the flowers in the room, the details of her recurring dream and the incident with Alfie, at the cottage. Finally she had mentioned Jane’s reaction to the atmosphere in the place.

  “Well then, what do you think?” Bella had sat back, turning her chair sideways a little then crossing her legs, waiting in keen anticipation of his reply but Kyle didn’t answer right away. By the distant look on his face she assumed he was giving some thought to what she had told him and waited patiently for him to speak.

  “Hmm,” he said, eventually. “Your own feelings are that the sum of your experiences all add up to something as yet unidentified?”

  “That would be one way of putting it, yes,” she agreed.

  “And you’re also certain, Miss Marple,” he said, with a grin, “that there is some mystery attached to all of this?” Bella flicked her hair back over her shoulder, with one hand, in annoyance.

  “Don’t take the piss, Kyle!” Her eyes flashed and colour came to her cheeks. “You wanted to hear about this and I knew I was at risk of sounding melodramatic, to say the least. I’m not making something out of nothing! I know what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard. If you want to dismiss it, that’s fine!” On an impulse, she stood up. “Perhaps its about time we went, anyway.” Ducking underneath the umbrella, she headed off towards the bar.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Jesus, you’re bloody touchy!” They had reached his vehicle by the time he caught up with her. Bella turned on him as she stood by the passenger door.

  “No, Kyle. I’m not touchy as you call it. You could see that I didn’t find it easy to talk about, not wanting to sound as though I was the one who was a bit strange. I thought that by discussing it with someone who was, perhaps, open-minded and intelligent I might get another point of view. Obviously, I was wrong.” A sharp needle of pain probed at her temples and she drew her breath in sharply. It was all too much. Too much angst, too much sun, too much wine. Too close to her period. Shutting her eyes she leaned against the door of the Range Rover, pressing the fingertips of one hand to her forehead. She sensed him next to her, felt his fingers on her brow. The blip of the electronic key and the sound of the locks opening imprinted itself on her consciousness. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  “Come on,” he urged, opening the door for her. “You’ll be better off sitting down.” Kyle took her bag from her then guided Bella up into the passenger seat.

  “You couldn’t do me a favour, could you?” It seemed as though the pain was settling in, making itself comfortable. She needed to act quickly.

  “Sure. Name it,” Kyle responded, concerned at her distress.

  “Could you fetch me a glass of water, from the bar? I need to take some pills.”

  “I’m on my way.” Easing her head back against the rest she exhaled slowly then gently massaged her temples. It had been foolish to sit in the sun for so long, especially with the wine as well. In that strange, oblique way the human brain sometimes functions, without seemingly being compelled to do so, it forged a link between her present dilemma and a subject she and Kyle had discussed. In the midst of her misfortune, Bella was given to wondering whether, as she had often heard, having a baby would ease the menstrual problems that had plagued her for most of her adult life. For a moment, a wry grin replaced the pained expression on her face as she admitted to herself that she would never find out. It seemed to her that he had hardly left before he was back, carrying a small plastic beaker.

  “What were you grinning about, just now?” he asked, as he handed her the water.

  “Believe me, you wouldn’t want to know!” She took the beaker from him. “Thanks. I should feel better in a minute.” Bella put the beaker on the dashboard and searched her bag for the small packet of pills.

  “No sweat. Take your time, there’s no rush.”

  With his passenger indisposed, Kyle did the only sensible thing in deciding to take Bella home and not extend their day out. Once they were on their way and sensing she was not in the mood to talk he had suggested she should relax, close her eyes, and nod off if she liked. Much as she would have loved to, t
he fact she didn’t have the confidence in his driving wouldn’t allow her to sleep but she was content to keep her own company. Meanwhile, Kyle had much to keep him occupied and was grateful for the chance to think. Angry at her storming off, he had been spoiling for an argument until he’d seen she was unwell. Women! If it wasn’t a headache, it was stomach cramps, or nausea. What if men complained like that all the time? And fancy reacting in that way to a little joke. In his mind he pictured her suddenly standing up, face flushed and eyes blazing. How it had turned him on to see her charged up in that way though, revealing a wilder, more uninhibited side to her nature. Imagine what she’d be like in bed! Instinctively he glanced at the speedometer. The needle hovered between one hundred and fifteen and one hundred and twenty and he eased his foot off the accelerator. A quick look at Bella showed that she had fallen asleep, her head to one side, away from him. Fighting the urge to let his eyes linger, Kyle forced himself to concentrate his attention on the road ahead. What to make of her story, he wondered. He had to admit it had roused his curiosity, if nothing else. It was the characters that appealed to him and his sense of drama. He knew only too well that village life could magnify the importance of situations, even distort them completely. A handful of people. The slow pace of life. The infectious disease of gossip that ran through any small community like an artery carrying diseased blood to its heart. As good a recipe for fomentation as one could find. Hardly surprising that things could get out of hand. Fleetingly, he thought of Joanna Trollope, as cunning an observer of the phenomenon as any. He compared it to his own existence in Bristol. In contrast the melting pot of city life included many whackos, oddballs and eccentrics yet the explosion of constant activity somehow fused them into the scenery. Like the ebb and flow of the tides, dramas, crises and disasters came and went, moving relentlessly from one to the next, leaving little or no time for deliberation or gossip. The two communities were so disparate they might just as well be on different planets. But something in her tale had caught his imagination, some indefinable element which sought to lure him into taking a closer look. Unknowingly, Kyle Lucas was about to become embroiled in a situation having some interesting parallels in the world of nature. An unsuspecting insect alights on the leaf of the Dionaea muscipula, totally unaware of the dire circumstances of its environment. Similarly, the silken strands of a spider’s web appear to pose no obvious threat to the inquisitive moth. Likewise, the invisible artifices of subterfuge and deceit are indelibly woven into the fabric of the human experience. That which may seem innocuous, appearing fairly harmless on casual inspection, may prove to be anything but and the consequences of becoming more deeply involved are impossible to foresee. Impossible, that is, until it is too late.

  Bella slept for most of the journey back and felt better for it. To her relief the headache had all but disappeared and, thankfully, she had been spared the trauma of experiencing Kyle’s driving once again. As often happened around this time of the month, she was emotionally vulnerable and situations that she would have taken in her stride, without a second thought, were capable of causing her great anxiety. In the past, when it had been particularly bad, she had withdrawn from any social activity for a few days until she had felt better able to cope. Now, with Kyle indicating to turn into Spinney Lane, she was grateful to be nearly home and reflected on the fact. Home. This was how she saw Willow Cottage now almost as if the apartment in London with its somewhat sterile atmosphere didn’t exist. The cottage made her feel good maybe because it accommodated both her past, through its happy association with her Uncle Rupert, and the present as a haven for her work.

  “How are you feeling?” Kyle’s voice interrupted her thoughts as they were approaching the old oak that marked the entrance to the driveway.

  “Umm, better thanks,” she replied, as she stretched her arms, unable to stifle a yawn. Bella found herself battling conflicting emotions and the fact that she was still experiencing drowsiness from her medication didn’t help. On the one hand she wanted Kyle to go so that she could just give in to her condition and blob out, as she called it. But, alternatively, something instinctive within her didn’t want to see him leave and she was going to be faced with making a decision very shortly. As they rounded the final bend in the drive Kyle took the initiative out of her hands.

  “I know you’re still not feeling too good, whatever you might say, but do you think I can come in for a short time so that we can just talk about this place.” He indicated the cottage with a nod of his head. “Whatever you might have thought earlier, I was interested in what you had to say and I’d just like to discuss it a little more. Would you mind?” Bella felt both relief and disappointment but didn’t have the energy to argue and a bleak smile preceded her answer as he parked the Range Rover and switched off the ignition.

  “Sure. Come on in. I’ll make a cup of tea then we can talk it over.”

  “What’s your own gut-feeling about the whole thing, then?” They hadn’t left the kitchen, after Bella had made tea for them, deciding instead to seat themselves at the table. As he put the question, Kyle’s mind was working on two levels. Interested though he was in investigating the source of Bella’s concerns he also saw it as a means of not letting her slip from his grasp. He had found it impossible to discern her feelings for him in such a short time, especially after she had walked out on him like that, but he couldn’t face the thought of not seeing her again. There was a quality about her that touched a deep-seated emotion he didn’t want to examine. Since Kay had left he’d only sought female company for one reason and Bella excited him physically more than anyone he’d met in a very long time. He’d seen the longing in her eyes too. Read the signs as clearly as if they’d been translated into words and printed on paper. A fierce desire nagged and goaded him, willing him on and he had to fight to control it, conscious of the fact that if he gave in to it now he could lose her. It hadn’t begun to rage within him yet as sometimes happened, transforming his boiling sexual energy into a furious outburst of words and deeds over which he had little or no control. There was no warning to precede such events which had entered his life little more than a matter of a few months previously. Kyle had begun to fear for his sanity but he harboured an even greater dread of discovering what was actually wrong with him and refused to seek help. Now, as he waited for the answer to his question, he saw the tiredness in Bella’s eyes and how her face had become drawn, accentuating the cheekbones, and he reached for her hand, forcing himself to show compassion.

  “I won’t keep you long,” he promised, and was rewarded with a smile.

  “It’s better now I’m home. I’ll be alright.” Upstairs, in the small bedroom at the end of the hallway Ubix gave a great yawn and stretched languidly having just woken up. The cat sensed that it was almost time to go down and pester his mistress about being fed.

  “I don’t know, Kyle,” Bella began. “It may be just my imagination but I can’t escape the feeling that people are being less than honest with me. I don’t like to use the word conspiracy but that’s what it seems like to me.”

  “And they’ve given you plausible explanations for the circumstances you’ve queried?”

  “Depends on how you qualify the word plausible and who the explanation suits most. Perhaps I’m just getting more cynical as I get older!” Kyle sat back, letting go of her hand, and picked up his cup of tea.

  “The Knapthorne Conspiracy, eh? As good a title as any for a tv drama!”

  “You’re not serious?” she asked, wide-eyed with surprise.

  “You never know!” he answered, enigmatically, taking a sip from his cup. “Stranger things have happened. It’s got some great characters, good dramatic elements and a very attractive leading lady.”

  “Now I know you’re kidding!” she laughed, feeling a little brighter now. They both took the opportunity to finish their drinks then Kyle looked at her thoughtfully.

  “Is there any one thing, out of all you’ve told me, that you feel is at the crux of the
matter?” Bella considered the question carefully, before answering.

  “Not really. It’s more the combination of everything but obviously Alfie and the Flint family would appear to be involved if I’m correct in my assumption.” Kyle felt it would be wise to leave with things on a fairly positive note and not to outstay his welcome, so he got up and took his cup and saucer over to the sink.

  “Ok,” he said, turning back to her. “I’m going to do a bit of research if that’s alright with you?” He paused, waiting for her reply.

  “Fine! What sort of research, exactly?”

  “Go back through the papers around the time of his accident, that sort of thing. A few questions in the right places.” Bella looked horrified.

  “Don’t you go implicating me in any of this, Kyle Lucas!” she warned him. “I’ve got to live in this village, remember!”

  “Trust me. It’s in both our interests not to give anything away.” Could she trust him, that was the question? Nothing showed in his face to put her mind at rest and he struck her as the sort of person who would look after his own interests, full stop. Why did life always have to get complicated? Perhaps, to safeguard her future in the village, she’d better make sure that he remained interested in her for the time being anyway until she got to know him better. It wasn’t as though she wouldn’t enjoy it, after all. Kyle looked at his watch.

  “I must be getting back anyway. I’d better be off.” It was the cue for Bella to move and she rose from her seat and went over to him.

  “Thanks for coming today, I really mean it. Sorry I had to go and spoil things.” He put a finger to her lips, to silence her.

  “You didn’t spoil anything. I had a great time, really. And now I’m going to sort out your little mystery for you.” Bella kissed his finger, softly, then he took it away and bent towards her putting his lips to hers. There was no urgency at first as they were consumed by the intimacy of the moment, that first electric contact of mouth upon mouth that sends sensual shockwaves through the body. Bella parted her lips and he responded, probing, exploring, as he slipped his arms around her pulling her roughly to him. Excited by the feel of the firm, supple contours of her body pressing against him he quickly became aroused and Bella couldn’t help but be aware of it. After so long without a man she was overcome by a surging tide of desire and thrust herself against him, their embrace suddenly becoming more urgent. Then, in her vulnerable state, all self-control deserted her. Now he was running his hand down her side, fingertips playing her ribs, his palm brushing the fullness of her breast, and she moaned softly at his touch, feeling the heat of him, wanting him, knowing it was too late to stop.