Bella was busy looking at her surroundings, taking in the overpainted anaglypta paper on the walls, its creamy colouring enhanced by years of tobacco smoke, and the pitted linoleum which covered the floor. It wasn’t a big room, accommodating only nine solid-looking wooden tables, with matching chairs, all painted a uniform dark brown. A game of darts was in progress, to her left, in the far corner, otherwise hardy-looking, weathered customers were seated at the tables or standing at the bar. The dress code for the men in the bar, whose ages ranged from late teens to elderly, appeared to be mandatory for, without exception, they were all wearing two-piece worsted or terylene suits with an open-necked shirt. Sunday best, but it couldn’t disguise the rugged, manual lifestyle of each and every owner. It was with some relief that Bella noticed she wasn’t the only woman there. Seated at one of the tables near the door were three women. It was difficult to tell their ages exactly but she would have put them, perhaps, in their late fifties. They each had permed hair and wore winter coats, still, with a scarf at the neck and their make-up erred on the heavy side. They could have been related but were, more than likely, just neighbours, their menfolk either at the bar or playing darts. At the feet of each of them was a solid-looking large, black handbag, no two of them exactly the same but near enough in size and shape to each other to conform to the required standard. Bella had the eerie feeling that she and Ben were like time travellers who had entered another dimension.
“Still feel the same about wanting to get out of London?” They had taken their drinks to a vacant table at the end of the bar, on the right-hand side of the room and there was a look of mild amusement on Ben’s face as he put the question.
“What, just because of this place?” Although Bella knew he was obviously poking fun at her she was in no mood to be taken lightly and his attitude annoyed her. “If anything, Ben, it strengthens my resolve. I don’t expect you to take me seriously because you obviously don’t understand and I’m certainly not going to be put off by something as immaterial as the atmosphere in here. Rupert left me that cottage for a reason and it’s given me the opportunity to rethink my life. Not many people get that chance, do they Ben?” She held his gaze, her eyes sparkling. The rhetorical question was directed at him and he knew it. There was a challenge implicit in her words and the silence was charged with a physical potency generated by the mutual attraction that existed between them. His flippant remark had been meant as a harmless jibe, nothing more, but he had underestimated her feelings only to have the tables turned on him.
“Come on, Bella, it was meant as a joke! Obviously in poor taste, it would seem.”
He looked apologetic but she was not about to let him off the hook. He had needled her and now she was determined to get under his skin and get him to react. There was no denying she felt physically attracted to him and it would be easy enough to enter into an affair but she wanted to find out more about him, after all, she had known him for what? All of four days. In her experience it had never been easy to get a man to talk about his feelings honestly and openly but this was Bella at her most dangerous, for once she had set her mind to something it was rare for her to give up, and she didn’t believe in treading softly.
“Would you ever think of leaving your wife?” Ben looked at her in astonishment.
“What on earth made you say that?” He stared, in disbelief, at the grin on her face.
“Just wanted to see how you’d react. Reading between the lines I’d say that you’d given it some thought, not unlike most men in your situation.” The baited hook had been left for him to swallow. It would be a start.
“And what is my situation,” the two words were heavily emphasised, “as you put it?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Ben?” The level of conversation in the background had diminished considerably as ears pricked up and heads turned in their direction. “Why were you so keen to come down with me to see the cottage? It wasn’t necessary for me to see it immediately, after all.” The words were hardly out when he went on the offensive.
“Bella, this is preposterous! It seemed like a good idea to get you down to have a look at it as soon as possible. I’m Rupert’s solicitor. I’m sure that’s what he would have wanted…”
“And there was no ulterior motive on your part?” Ben was saved from having to put words to the lie by the arrival of the food they had ordered. It was brought over from the bar by a slightly overweight man of medium height and indeterminate age dressed in crumpled grey trousers and a bright, multi-coloured pullover worn over a white shirt. When he had taken the small cane baskets from the tray and placed them in front of the couple, along with their cutlery, Bella thanked him for his trouble but, instead of leaving, he stood there grinning.
“I’m Alfie,” he said, introducing himself with boyish excitement and holding the tray flat against his chest. “I works here.” They both smiled at him sympathetically as the landlord called out, from behind the bar.
“Alright Alfie, you can go round and collect some glasses, now. Let them get on with their meal.”
“Nice to meet you,” Alfie said, with a shy smile, and turned away.
“Poor man,” Bella remarked, when he was out of earshot. “At least he adds a bit of colour to the place.” Ben watched him return to the bar but his thoughts were concerned with Bella’s recent comments.
“If I were to be honest,” he began, quietly, picking at his food and not looking at her, “I’d have to say that I have considered leaving Tina.” The confession made, he raised his head and studied her face. “I’ve never mentioned that to anyone and I’m not even sure why I’m telling you.” It was obvious that he was finding it difficult. “And while I’m baring my soul,....” he leaned forward so that he could talk even more quietly, and then looked around to make sure he wouldn’t be overheard. “I have to admit that when I saw you on Thursday, you took my breath away, and I had to find a way to see you again.” It felt as though a weight had been lifted from him, now that the pretence was over with, but he was unsure as to how Bella would respond. With a sigh, he sat back, a look of resignation on his face. “So, you’ve got what you wanted, the truth…
“What I want, Ben,” she said, decisively, interrupting him, “is to keep my life as simple as possible. For one thing, I don’t know if I want a relationship right now and, for another, if I do get involved, I’d like it to be with someone I can trust.”
“So it doesn’t bother you that I’m married, then?” There was a hopeful note in his voice.
“I didn’t say that, and, yes, as a matter of fact, it does.” They only had eyes for each other, as if they were alone in the room, and she saw the fleeting response to her comment register on his face, a brief look of disappointment. Not so very long ago, she probably would have taken pity on him, thrown caution to the wind, and entered into a torrid, doomed affair. It would be easy enough now, she thought. He was good-looking, energetic and successful. And married. The cottage came to mind, like a breath of fresh air, and prompted her to think of the reborn Bella Foxton. Instead of jumping in at the deep end, without a second thought, as had been her habit she would now give herself the luxury of time, like a cautious pedestrian looking both ways before crossing the road.
“I’ve got a suggestion,” she said, thoughtfully. “I would very much like to be your friend, Ben, and I hope you will be mine.” His face was a mask and she was unable to see the effect of her words. “For once,” she continued, “I want to take control of my life and I’m in a better position to do that now than I have ever been.”
“Bella, I can understand…” She reached across the table and put a finger to his lips, for the briefest of moments.
“Just hear me out, Ben.” He looked put out but did as she asked. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive because, let me assure you, I do and I also enjoy your company. Let’s get to know each other. I don’t need someone to hop into bed with occasionally, right at this moment, and that’s about what you’d be offering, isn’t i
t? Even if you weren’t attached, I’d be thinking long and hard about it, believe me. It’s going to be nice to have my own space, all to myself, for a while.”
Ben said nothing immediately, knowing the truth in Bella’s words but wanting her nonetheless.
“While you’re thinking that over, I’ll get us another drink. Same again?”
Almost every pair of eyes in the room followed her as she got up and went to the bar and the fact wasn’t lost on Bella. The landlord came through from the public bar, when he spotted her waiting to be served.
“Your food alright?” he asked, pleasantly.
“Yes, it's fine, thank you. Could we have the same again,” she asked, pushing the two empty glasses forward. There was a group of four locals drinking at the bar, to her left, and all conversation ceased as their attention focused on her.
“Gin & tonic and a small lager, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, thanks,” she replied. He turned away to raise her glass to the optic on the gin bottle. “Unusual, these days, to see a pub that looks the same way it must have done twenty or thirty years back,” she commented, casually.
“Been in the same family for generations,” he replied, his back still towards her. “Brewery don’t see the need to spend money where it don’t have to. Regulars keeps us goin’ pretty well.” He had turned back and was reaching under the counter, for a bottle of tonic. “Don’t see your kind in here too often, you see…”
“More’s the pity,” one of the older men in the small group whispered, loudly enough to be overheard by Bella, and bringing smiles to the faces of the others.
“…what brings you this way, anyway?” the landlord asked, innocuously enough.
“I’ve just acquired a property on the outskirts of the village…” Everyone in the bar had been straining to listen to their conversation while trying to seem as though they weren't. “…Willow Cottage, do you know it?” When she mentioned the name it was as if someone had pressed the mute button on the bar’s remote control.
“In Spinney Lane?” There was something in the tone of his voice she couldn’t identify. Surprise? Disbelief? Concern? Whatever it was, it seemed to have affected the whole bar.
“Yes. It belonged to my uncle, who died some months ago.”
“Lord Easterbrook, your uncle? Well there’s a turn up and that’s no error. A fine man ‘e was, his lordship.” He turned his attention to the men at the bar. “What you lookin’ at Jacob, Billy? It’s rude to stare boys. Just you get on with your own business, eh?” It seemed to be a signal to everyone else to do the same but Bella could sense that the mention of Willow Cottage had added a touch of frost to the already distinctly cool atmosphere in the room. The landlord, seemingly the only person who was completely at ease and acting normally, placed the two drinks in front of her.
“Is it my imagination, Mr…” Bella paused, eyebrows raised, awaiting the introduction.
“Handysides. Samuel Handysides,” the landlord obliged, with a smile.
“Bella Foxton, nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be getting to know each other…”
“What was it, you’m thought you might be imaginin’ then, Miss Foxton?” So anxious was he to find out what might be bothering her, he didn’t give Bella the chance to finish what she had been saying. As his smile looked so innocent, she convinced herself that he was simply trying to be helpful.
“Is there something about Willow Cottage I should know?”
“Know?” he repeated. “In what way?”
“I got the definite impression that the mention of the name didn’t go down well, in here. I can’t really explain it.” Samuel Handysides gave a short laugh.
“I think you’m be right, Miss Foxton. It’s your imagination. All of these folk in here have known each other for years an’ they hates change. That’s why the pub be like it is, partly. You represent the unknown, an outsider if you gets my meaning. Nothing personal like but it’ll just take time until they gets to know you. You’ll see. I don’t think you should be worrying yourself about Willow Cottage, not that I know of, leastways.”
“What were they doing, distilling the gin while you waited?” Ben made the remark in good humour, for which Bella gave him an old-fashioned look.
“I was talking to Mr. Handysides about the cottage.”
“Mr. who?”
“The landlord. This bar’s got more ears than a field of corn. When I mentioned that Willow Cottage had come into my possession, you could have heard a pin drop.”
“So?” Ben couldn’t see anything unusual in the reaction, given that she was a stranger.
“So, I felt that there was something creepy about it. Call me a suspicious novelist, if you like but I don’t think I’m wrong.”
“Perhaps, with all the excitement, you’re over-reacting?” Bella looked at him, long and hard, while she took a sip of her drink.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” she said, mischievously, “but I believe you’re a solicitor, not a psychologist? There was something very odd about it, believe me.” She looked at her watch. “Anyway, we’d better be getting back before too long so that I can have a good look round.”
“You’m off to Willow Cottage, then?” Neither of them had noticed Alfie approach the table.
“Yes, Alfie,” Bella replied, politely. “Why’s that?” She had no recollection of Alfie having been anywhere around when she’d had the conversation at the bar. How, then, had he come to hear about the cottage?
“There’s folks round here knows about Willow Cottage!” It was plain to see that he appeared agitated. “They might not say nothin’ but they know, miss, mark my words!”
“Alfie!” Samuel Handysides voice rang out sharply. “Don’t you be botherin’ Miss Foxton, now, d’you hear. Get down the cellar and finish cleaning up.” Ben watched him go, concern clearly evident on his face.
“What the hell was that all about, I’d like to know?” he said, mystified by what had happened. Bella looked thoughtful as she suddenly finished her drink.
“Do you believe me now?” As she stood up, her chair scraped across the linoleum. “Come on, Ben, I think it’s time for some fresh air and a change of scenery.” Caught out by the swiftness of her action, he looked longingly at the remaining lager in his glass but decided to leave it.
“Might be seeing you again, then, sir?” Samuel Handysides had seen Bella leave and watched now as Ben stood up.
“You might, indeed,” Ben agreed, as he turned to leave.
“Best not keep the lady waiting, then,” Samuel advised him.
“You wouldn’t catch me keepin’ ‘er waiting for anythin’!” an earthy old voice volunteered and a chorus of laughter bade farewell to Ben as he went out the door.
The atmosphere in the car as they set off on the short drive back to the cottage was in sharp contrast to the mood that had prevailed on the journey to the pub.
“Didn’t exactly come across as your friendly local hostelry, somehow, did it?”
Bella’s thoughts were consumed by everything that had just happened and Ben’s remark didn’t really register.
“Bella?
“Hm? What’s that?” she asked, absent-mindedly.
“I said it wasn’t the most welcoming place I’d ever been in, don’t you agree?” Unusually for her, she looked a little intense as she answered him.
“I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about it. Looking back on the whole episode, I suppose it’s very easy to over-react…” Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing and didn’t let her finish.
“Well, that’s not how you were feeling back there, is it?” He made no effort to conceal his surprise. “Why the sudden change of heart?” Glancing sideways, to prompt a reply, he found it hard to take his eyes off her.
“If you knew me well, Ben, you’d find there is an impulsive side to my nature. I’ve a tendency to do things on the spur of the moment or make instant decisions, not necessarily with regard to trivial matters either.”
; “Could make life interesting!” Given the little Ben did know about her, he didn’t find it difficult to believe.
“I’m trying to be a little more objective now. If I can recognise the symptoms early enough, that is!” she said, with a wry laugh. “The atmosphere in the pub wasn’t particularly pleasant but I’m trying to see it from their side of things, too.”
“But you felt, to use your words,” Ben said, emphatically, “that there was something creepy about it.” Bella took a deep breath then let it out, slowly.
“That’s how I read it at the time, but you were the one to suggest I may have been over-reacting and, in hindsight, you may have been right.” She looked across at him, to see his reaction, as they turned into Spinney Lane.
“Ok, then” he began, thoughtfully, “what about Alfie’s comment?” Bella greeted this remark with a dubious look.
“I’d rather tend to be asking the question, what about Alfie, wouldn’t you?”
“How do you mean?” Ben asked, keeping his eyes firmly on the winding road.
“Well he’s obviously one cuckoo short of a nest, to put it politely, so how much credence can you give to anything he says? What were his words, exactly?”
“There’s folks round here knows about Willow Cottage!” Ben, mimicked, giving a passable impression of a Dorset accent.
“There you are then!” Bella exclaimed, triumphantly. “Depending on your imagination, it can be as harmless or, on the other hand, as portentous as you want it to be.” As she was speaking, Ben spotted the tall oak at the bottom of the drive leading to the cottage.
“I have to agree,” Ben admitted, as he turned off Spinney Lane, “that now we’re out of there it all seems rather harmless.”
“Just city slickers off of their home turf, eh?” Bella suggested. The cottage came into view, bringing a smile to her face and dismissing all other matters from her mind. “Here we are!” she said, enthusiastically. “Right, where shall we start?”
The Knapthorne Conspiracy Page 6
