The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  Like many a large man he was, in fact, very shy and therefore it was even more surprising that he was the first to speak out after Samuel had finished.

  “I ‘ears what you’re sayin’ Samuel. I ‘ears it but I’m not likin’ it.” All eyes turned towards him and he coloured up. “I’m not one for speakin’ out but I can’t hold my peace. The trouble with rakin’ over old coals is that they kinda flares up if you ain’t careful. Leave well enough alone is what I’m sayin’!” He slammed a big fist down on the table to emphasise his point and made everyone jump. In the immediate silence that followed everyone looked at each other. The shock of Tiny’s unexpected outburst was clearly evident on all their faces. Unused to hearing him mutter more than a few words at a time they had been stunned by his short speech and the depth of his emotion. As reaction slowly set in the meeting began to degenerate into a noisy hubbub, forcing Samuel to call for order and banging the table with a glass to attract everyone’s attention. Gradually the noise subsided and Samuel Handysides was able to assert his authority.

  “Thank you, Tiny, for givin’ us your view. I’ve never ‘eard you so heloquent, so to speak!” Muted laughter greeted the comment and Tiny wore an embarrassed grin. “Let’s not forget the serious matter at ‘and, though. Obviously Tiny is fully entitled to express his opinion but I feels I should make you all aware of which side of the fence Cora sits on over this.” There was no need to bang on the table to attract their attention now, all of them eager to hear what he had to say.

  “As Mrs. Flint’s the one most haffected, I thinks we should ‘eed what she’s got to say.” His gaze fell on each of them in turn before he continued. “None of us in this ‘ere room is gettin’ any younger an’ I’m sure we all wants to live out our days with our consciences clear. Maybe you want to think on that. Anyways, Cora is all for me sittin’ down with Miss Foxton and tellin’ ‘er about Ruthy.” Murmurs of surprise rippled round the room. He had known that if there was going to be any one thing that would influence how the voting went tonight, it would be Cora’s feelings on the subject. “I would needs to be ‘appy in my own mind, o’ course, that Miss Foxton weren’t goin’ to do anythin’ rash after we’d spoken,” he added as an afterthought.

  A short but orderly discussion followed and, when all those wanting a say had done so, Samuel reckoned he knew even before they voted how things were going to go. But he’d felt certain of that from the start. When the time came for a show of hands, the only person not in favour of him talking to Bella Foxton was Tiny Leadbetter.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  For all Bella knew, the world outside could have ground to a halt. Some natural disaster maybe or, perhaps, a man-made catastrophe had occurred during the night and resulted in total silence. The darkness, too, was absolute. With her eyes open not even a pin-prick of light could be seen. The book she had been reading before going to sleep lay open, face down, across the clock radio. She closed her eyes briefly then opened them once more. In its blackness the room, her bedroom, was like an extension of Bella’s mind. A dark, featureless void, the same as she’d encountered with her eyes shut. Questions popped up in the void. What day was it? Thursday, the answer came right back. Somehow it felt like a Thursday, she thought. And the time? She had no intention of checking. To be pitch black, like this, Bella knew it had to be before five. She wriggled a little to get completely comfortable then adjusted her pillows, enjoying the sheer bliss of just laying there. Thursday now was automatically associated with Cora and Joshua, as much a part of her weekly routine as going shopping. Memories of yesterday’s visit to her housekeeper flashed into her mind and Bella knew that she wouldn’t be seeing her today and maybe not on any other Thursday in the future either. Something had woken her early she realised and, with a growing sense of excitement, she identified the cause. Today, possibly, she would learn the truth about Cora’s sister, Ruth, whatever it might be. Samuel had said to go back to the pub at the same time as yesterday. She was aware going back to sleep would be out of the question with the prospect of that meeting lying ahead but an early start would at least allow her to get a few hours work in first.

  At about the time Cora and Joshua usually turned up Bella heard the doorbell. The interruption was unfortunate, breaking her concentration, and in a matter of seconds she was transported away from her fictional environment.

  “It must be Joshua. Who else would be calling here?" she murmured, pushing her chair back. On the way down to answer the door Bella actually found herself disappointed Cora would not be coming but it was good of Joshua to have made his way to the cottage. However, as she approached the lobby, she caught a glimpse of a strange car parked in front of the cottage before she recognised Samuel Handysides waiting at the door.

  “I have to be honest,” Bella began, having opened the door and greeted him. “You’re the last person I expected to see on my doorstep. Actually, I thought it might have been Cora or Joshua.” The feeling of excitement she’d experienced since waking up rose to a new level. “Come in!” He accepted the invitation with a smile as she held the door open. When they were both in the lounge, he turned to her and spoke.

  “You’ve got your wish, Miss Foxton. I’m ‘ere to talk about Ruth Flint. Ruthy as we all used to call her.” The use of the past tense didn’t escape her. “With what I’ve got to say I thought it best to come up and see you rather than talk at The Lamb.” Bella was still trying to take in the fact that he’d turned up, let alone what he’d come for.

  “Would you like to make yourself comfortable, Samuel?” She indicated the settee. “Perhaps a tea or a coffee, first. I could certainly do with one myself!” He could see his visit had taken her by surprise as he realised his mouth was really quite dry.

  “Cup o’ tea’ll do me fine, thank you.” With a smile she turned away towards the kitchen as Samuel looked about him, recalling the last time he’d been inside Willow Cottage.

  “Been many a long year since I been in ‘ere, I can tell you!” Bella had left the room, though, and hadn’t heard him, her mind too occupied with thoughts of what else he had come to say.

  “Where to start, Miss Foxton, that’s the thing, eh? Where to start?” It seemed to Bella that Samuel was thinking out loud rather than speaking to her so she felt no need to respond. She was seated in an armchair opposite her visitor who was perched on the edge of the settee as if he wouldn’t allow himself to get comfortable. He wore slightly shabby-looking fawn trousers and a creamy-coloured sweater which appeared to Bella to be hand-knitted. While waiting for him to start she couldn’t help wondering when he had last bought any new clothes for himself.

  “There’s one thing that I needs to know, Miss Foxton, before I goes a-tellin’ you anythin’ about our Ruthy…”

  “And that is?” Now that he was here, Bella was impatient to hear what he had to say.

  “You’ve got to give me your solemn word that you won’t repeat any of what I tells you to another livin’ soul.” She looked incredulous. “I means it, Miss. Unless you promise me that, you won’t be ‘earin’ anythin’ from me. Now, will you do it for me?” Bella was absolutely nonplussed by the unexpected development but could see no reason not to comply with Samuel’s request. Looking and sounding mystified she did as she had been asked.

  “Ok. You have my word. Whatever is said in this room stays between the two of us.”

  “And I’ve got your absolute promise on that, ‘ave I?” She nodded, wondering if he wasn’t just playing for time and wishing he’d get on with it. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Joshua coming up the drive, heading for the side of the house. Samuel nodded, as if to show he was satisfied with her response but was still harbouring doubts about her eventual reaction.

  “You are definitely sure, you wants to ‘ear about all this?” One look at her face gave him his answer so, grasping the nettle, he pressed on before she had a chance to reply. “All this around ‘ere was your uncle’s, once upon a time,” Samuel began, staring into the distance
as his mind took him back. “Them were good days then. Folk were gettin’ on with their lives, after the war, puttin’ all their ‘ardship an’ troubles behind ‘em, so to speak. Leastways, tryin’ to. Seemed like endless, hot summers, plenty of work and the village were in its heyday, I reckon. No-one ‘ad ‘eard o’ redundancy, unemployment or any of those other fancy words for not ‘avin’ a job. There were plenty o’ kids in the village, then. Lively place, it was.” A wistful look came over him as he scanned through the memory of those times in his mind. Then his face suddenly brightened into a warm smile.

  “Your uncle, Lord Easterbrook, would call into The Lamb from time to time. Not often, mind, maybe only once or twice a year but he were a lovely man, a real gent. Never acted like he were the boss. Most everyone round ‘ere liked ‘im.”

  “When are you talking about exactly, Samuel? The sixties, the seventies?”

  “Oh, the sixties it’d be Miss an' then the seventies, after. We were still struggling a bit for quite some time after the war, then it all seemed to sort o’ come right somehow.” He coughed, the dryness in his mouth beginning to irritate and he reached for his cup of tea. Bella took the opportunity to have a drink, too, as she waited for him to resume.

  “We saw a bit more of your father, o’ course,” he said, as he put his cup and saucer back on the table. Bella thought he looked slightly uncomfortable but it could have been her imagination. “You would never ‘ave taken the pair of ‘em for brothers, those two…”

  “How do you mean?” Bella interrupted, anxious to know more about Patrick. Samuel gave a hollow laugh.

  “Ha! They was so unalike in their ways they might as well ‘ave been from different litters. Your father was known as The Irishman in these parts and more folks were pleased to see him go, when he left after a visit, than ever there was lookin’ forward to his comin’.”

  “Why ever was that?” Bella asked, sounding more than somewhat astounded. An instant replay of Samuel’s earlier words ran through her mind. ‘You are definitely sure you wants to ‘ear about all this?’ Unnoticed by Samuel, who was deep in thought, a shiver made her upper body tremble and she shook her shoulders as if trying to shake free of the sudden feeling of apprehension which had gripped her.

  “Your father used to call himself Rupert's General Manager and play Mr. High-and-Mighty when he turned up down here." He had Ruth's immediate attention.

  "How do you mean?"

  "Acted like he owned the place, like 'e was better than us folks. So diff'rent to 'is brother. To give you the 'onest truth, if everythin’ was goin’ your dad’s way ‘e were about bearable, Miss Foxton. But woe betide anyone who got in his way if they weren’t! An’ then there was ‘is drinkin’. Tended to get a bit hobnoxious when ‘e’d ‘ad a few, did Patrick but ‘e ‘ad a couple of cronies in the village who were ‘appy to suck up to ‘im.” Seeing the look on Bella’s face, Samuel had to say something. “I’m sorry, Miss. I know them’s ‘ard words to ‘ear but I did try to warn you.” She forced a smile, realising this couldn’t be easy for him, either.

  “It’s alright, Samuel. I never really knew my fa…Patrick, you see, but he’s still family and that’s why it hurts.”

  “I don’t thinks you could ever get away with callin’ a girl sweet, these days,” the landlord of The Lamb said with a grin. “But that’s exactly what Ruthy Flint was. There weren’t a nasty bone in 'er body. Even when she were a bit older she were like a little ray of sunshine. She were everyone’s favourite. Do anythin' for anybody too.” Looking at Bella he could almost read what was going through her mind. “You wouldn’t think so to look at Cora, now, would you?” She raised her eyebrows, smiling at him in agreement. Bella was feeling a bit tense, in expectation of finally finding out what had happened to the girl, and forced herself to try and relax but her palms were moist and her heart had begun to pound.

  “So, what happened to her, Samuel? Where is she?”

  “Settle yourself, Miss Foxton, now, please. This tale ain’t goin’ to improve for the rushin’ of it.” Her unease was affecting him now but he dared not show it. He would have loved another cup of tea but knew there was no way he could ask. Bella sagged back into the chair, taking a couple of deep breaths. As she did so, Ubix slunk down the stairs, wary of the stranger. Stretching his body long and low, ears back against its head, the cat ran for the kitchen. From where he sat, Samuel had been unable to witness the performance and remained ignorant of Ubix’s existence.

  “You knows a bit about the ‘istory of the Flint family now, how they used to live ‘ere, in Willow Cottage, and what ‘appened to Alfie an’ all.” The mention of Alfie’s name stirred her memory.

  “Talking of Alfie, Samuel. Is what you told me about him, his accident and so on, true?” A guilty look appeared on the face of Samuel Handysides and his shoulders dropped, like he had suddenly been punctured and the air had rushed out of him. A shaft of sunlight beamed through the window, illuminating the area where Samuel sat and the light made his eyes suddenly sparkle. It seemed as if he were having difficulty in speaking. Bella was overwhelmed by a great rush of pity for the man although she had no idea what was going on in his head. At that moment he just looked so utterly forlorn.

  “You needs to know the full story. That’ll explain everything.” He couldn’t look her in the eye immediately and fumbled in a trouser pocket for his handkerchief. “Sorry ‘bout this,” he apologised and blew his nose while she waited for him to continue.

  “Your notion about Alfie was right and I’m sorry I ‘ad to lie to you. We’ve always told the same story an’ no-one’s been any the wiser.” Samuel had recovered sufficiently to carry on but knew the hardest task of all was still ahead. “As I said, Ruthy Flint were a lovely young thing. Back then she would ‘ave been in her early twenties if I’m rememberin’ rightly. This particular day started much as any other but come the time it ended, I’m a-tellin’ you, there’s never been a day like it, before or since and I ain’t a-wantin’ to see the like of it again!” Bella began to feel uncomfortably warm and wished she could strip off her sweatshirt but she was wearing nothing underneath. Besides, she had no intention of distracting Samuel.

  “Your father was in right early that mornin’. Just had the one drink and left. When he came to the village, he only stayed around for two or three days at most, checking on things for his brother. Funny thing was, ‘e were about the last one out the pub the night before.”

  “What did Patrick actually do?”

  “Kept an eye on all the properties, see if there were any maintenance or repair work to be done. An’ ‘e talked to the tenants, see if they ‘ad any problems. Not that it did them much good if they ‘ad,” he added. “I’d ‘eard talk ‘e was involved with the book-keepin’ too but I don’t know.” From Samuel’s attitude it was obvious that he didn’t think much of Patrick. “Anyways, ‘e stayed for maybe an hour or so, could ‘ave been less, an’ I found ‘im a bit abusive so I left ‘im to it ‘cept for when I ‘as to serve ‘im. Then, for a Wednesday, it started to get…”

  “Hold on, Samuel. I’m sorry to stop you but why is it that I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me about Patrick?” He could plainly see that she was agitated and in no mood to hear anything but the truth. “I’ll keep my promise to you as long as you don’t leave anything out. There is something, isn’t there?” Reluctantly, Samuel nodded.

  “When ‘e first started comin’ ‘ere, everythin’ was fine, when folks didn’t really know ‘im. Patrick could be a real charmer, when ‘e wanted to an’ that was part of the trouble.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I’m sorry to say this, Miss Foxton, but you wants me to be straight with you. Your father was a terrible one with the girls, ‘ad a wanderin’ eye if you gets my meanin’. It was even rumoured, at one time, that he’d got a lass from round this way into trouble.” Sensing the agonies that Samuel was suffering through having to tell her such things, Bella wished that she could reveal to
him that Patrick wasn’t her father. Even if she could, she knew that now was not the time. She had to hear him out.

  “Like I was about to say earlier, a few folks drifted in before lunch. There was a cattle auction or somethin’ close by so it ‘ad the makin’s of a good day.” The life had gone out of his voice, she noticed, the way it does when people are talking of some terrible accident or tragedy. “They were all from the village, ‘cept for one, a lad from Thornden, over the way. All of ‘em was in good spirits an’ they were makin’ a bit of a racket but as soon as ’e threw the door open an’ they caught sight of ‘im, it was like someone had switched the sound off. Only for a couple of seconds, mind, ‘cos then all ‘ell broke loose!” He could picture it in his mind still, so vividly, even after all these years, only now it all seemed to be happening in slow motion.