The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  “I heard about your accident. Thought you might need some help. Didn’t realise you weren’t on your own.” It sounded very much as though her nose was out of joint and Bella didn’t want to risk offending her.

  “That’s very kind of you Mrs. Flint….”

  “Cora, miss, if you please.”

  “…Cora. Kyle, here, er, Mr. Lucas, is the gentleman that I drove out in front of.

  Unfortunately,” she said, sounding somewhat contrite, “he’s just been scratched by the cat.” Then she remembered to introduce the two of them. “I’m sorry! Cora, this is Kyle Lucas. Kyle, Cora Flint.” The large, fearsome woman nodded primly as if trying to bring an air of respectability to things but Bella sensed something more in her look.

  “You brought a cat with you, then?” Mrs. Flint appeared surprised.

  “No, I didn’t. That’s just it. The cat suddenly appeared the last time I came down and disappeared just as mysteriously. Now its come back and seems to have taken an instant dislike to Mr. Lucas….”

  “Is it a dark-coloured cat, kind of big-lookin’?” Cora Flint’s eyes narrowed, as though she either knew or suspected something. It reminded Bella of Alfie’s manner, in The Lamb.

  “Yes, it is. Do you know who it belongs to?” For the briefest of moments, Mrs. Flint’s face mirrored the fact that the answer confirmed something, then her features settled back into their normal stony-faced attitude.

  “Fraid not, Miss Foxton. You got me there good and proper. Just thought I might ‘ave seen it around, that’s all. Is there anythin’ you wants me to do for you, bein’ as you might be a bit incapacitated, so to speak? That’s why I came.” Bella demurred but Kyle had read the situation without too much difficulty.

  “I think Miss Foxton is still feeling the effects of the accident. It might be wiser if you could call back tomorrow.” Bella could have kissed him as Cora Flint drew her stomach in and squared her shoulders.

  “Wiser?” she repeated, as if the word was distasteful, then thought about what Kyle Lucas had said. “As you wish, I’ll call on you tomorrow!” With a flourish of her long black skirt, she swept out of the room, head held high.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Kyle was staring at her, in disbelief, his reaction the same as her own the first time she had met the woman.

  “I’m not sure,” Bella replied, “but she frightens the shit out of me!” Kyle couldn’t help laughing.

  “I take it you’re feeling a bit better, then?”

  “Yes, I am, thanks mainly to you. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you. Now, let me take a look at that hand of yours.”

  On her second visit to the house, Bella had discovered a first-aid kit in the bathroom. Kyle went up and fetched it, insisting that she remain where she was and just rest. On his own for a moment, he reflected on the fact that something was making him feel vaguely uneasy but was unable to put his finger on it. Dismissing it as unimportant, he located the kit and returned downstairs, It was a simple matter to fix his hand, then Bella suggested they have something to eat as she was starving. On the short journey back from the village they had talked mainly about the accident, so neither of them knew much about the other although each of them was dying to find out. Especially Bella, who didn’t want to let this gift from the Gods disappear without knowing anything about him. Had he said that he’d grown up round here? She couldn’t remember. And if he had, did that imply that he no longer lived in the locality? In her experience, she’d found that married men have a certain aura about them, and she could generally pick it, but there was no evidence of this with Kyle. Now that she was feeling a whole lot better, his sudden intervention in her life had begun to have an effect on her outlook. With a man in her life, things would be so different. It might even inspire her. The fact that she needed to be loved, in the most physical sense, could propel her into recklessness as it had done in the past and she gave a fleeting thought to Jane, and her gut-wrenching emotional dramas, and had not a little sympathy for her. To hell with caution, she thought. He’s too bloody good-looking.

  Bella put the items she had bought from the deli out on the table while she heated the pita bread in the microwave.

  “I can’t be too long,” Kyle told her. “I’ve got to be in London by six.” And I’ve got to find out more about you before I go, he told himself.

  “Business or pleasure?” she asked, angling.

  “Business.” His smile revealed even, white teeth. “I’ve got a script to take a look at.” Her ears pricked up at the mention of the word.

  “A script? What sort of work do you do?” Excitement slowly began to build within her, although she couldn’t really explain why. It was like an hour-glass filling with sand.

  “I’ve got a tv production company. We make dramas, documentaries, the odd wildlife programme, that sort of thing.” Now it was Bella’s turn to be impressed. She had been secretly hoping that he wasn’t a management consultant or, heaven forbid, a tax inspector. This really was too good to be true. It cried out for recklessness.

  “Your own company? Not a partnership, with your wife, or something?” There, she’d done it, and those amazing eyes of his appeared to see right through her.

  “My company. No partnership. No wife. No partner, for that matter,” he said, amiably, as if he was mentioning something inconsequential. In that complicated way that the mind works, instead of being rapt at the news, news she wanted to hear above all else, Bella wondered why he didn’t have a partner. What was wrong with him?

  “There’s a simple explanation for that,” he continued, as if she’d put the question to him. “I often work seven days a week and, invariably, long hours. It tends to be anti-social. Believe me, I’m not against the practice though, how about you?” Cleverly, he had turned the tables on her and caught Bella off-guard.

  “How do you mean,” she answered, defensively.

  “Partners. Do you have one?” For a moment she hesitated, considering her answer, not wishing to make herself seem readily available like the salami at the Greek’s delicatessen.

  “If you mean am I married, then the answer is no. A bit like you,” she parried, “I’m a slave to my work.” He loved the delightful curl of her mouth when she smiled.

  “Oh? And what work is that?”

  “I’m a writer.” She had her back to him now, taking the pita bread from the microwave, and couldn’t see the narrowing of his eyes, the crease in his brow.

  “What sort of a writer?” he said, slowly.

  “Good, apparently, by the sales of my last book,” she replied, straight-faced, putting the bread on the table and inviting him to sit.

  “Oh, that sort of a writer. And what was the title of the book?”

  “Lingering Doubts. It’s about a …….” His face lit up, at the mention of the title.

  “I thought there was something familiar about your name! Of course! Bella Foxton. The book about euthanasia.” Kyle began to see her in a totally different light. Not a week ago, he’d had lunch with Phil Travis, from Belmont Productions, who’d mentioned that they were looking at adapting it for television. In Phil’s opinion, the book was outstanding.

  “What an amazing coincidence! Do you know Phil Travis?” The blank expression on Bella’s face indicated that she didn’t.

  “Never heard of him, sorry. Should I have done?”

  “No, it’s not important…”

  “Help yourself,” she told him, indicating the food. “Time’s getting on if you’ve got to be away.” Silently, he cursed the fact that he had to go but there was no way he could change the time of his meeting, at this late stage. Bella Foxton, eh? Talented and a knock-out. He had to see her again. He had to think of something, even though his schedule was full to bursting over the next three months.

  “Shouldn’t we be exchanging insurance company details, or something?” She asked, dipping her bread into the taramosalata. Knowing he was about to leave soon, there was no way she was going to le
t him disappear for good.

  “Yes, you’re right. We must do it before I go.” Kyle knew he had to say something now or he might not get another chance. “I might be back down this way, in the next couple of weeks, and I’d like to look in, see how you’re going.” Bella’s heart skipped a beat but she wasn’t going to show it.

  “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble?”

  “Honestly, it’s no trouble. I’ll keep tabs on the car for you, in the meantime, and find out when it will be ready.” She laid the fingers of a soft, well-manicured hand over his.

  “Kyle, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done and I’m truly sorry for the damage I’ve caused to your car.”

  “Huh! Don’t worry! The main thing is you’re alright!” Hunger got the better of them both and they tucked into the light meal in front of them. When Kyle had finished, he pushed his chair back and stood up.

  “I’ll go and get my insurance details for you, then I’d best be off. I just hope that damned cat of yours is nowhere around!” Watching him as he left the kitchen, Bella allowed herself a smile. She would give him her phone number so that he could ring about the car and leave the rest to fate. It was just amazing how many unexpected turns her life had taken recently. Somewhere, deep down, she knew it had all started with the cottage and that old Uncle Foxy was responsible, watching over her and calling the shots. The urge to write was now stronger than ever and she sensed that it was all part of some larger plan. His plan? It warmed her heart to think so but she knew she was being fanciful but, if it inspired her, so what?

  “You just keep on doing what you’re doing,” she whispered softly, looking up at the ceiling.

  “What was that?” Kyle Lucas enquired, as he walked back into the room, thumbing through the contents of a slim briefcase.

  “Nothing. Just talking to my uncle,” she replied, brightly. His look of uncertainty questioned the comment and, perhaps, more besides but, due to the fact he had to get away, he chose not to pursue the matter.

  It wasn’t until he had gone that Bella found herself able to relax and having to admit that she was quite shaken by what had happened. Now that she didn’t have to keep up appearances for anyone she found that the discomfort she was experiencing from the injury to her neck and lower back was quite acute. It hadn’t escaped her, either, that if it hadn’t have been for the quick thinking of Kyle Lucas, her injuries might have been far worse. The whole episode had taken a lot out of her and she suddenly began to feel extraordinarily tired. She ran a bath, to help ease the aches and pains, lay back in its warm embrace and gave herself up to its efficacious properties. With her eyes closed, in her mind she revisited the events of the day after the accident. Revisited the sights and the sounds, the words and the actions, immersing herself in the memory of Kyle Lucas, until she almost succumbed to the seductive temptation of sleep. Only a concerted effort roused her and she knew there was no alternative but to go to bed and it wasn’t too long before she had done exactly that, falling asleep almost immediately. Much later, as evening became night, Bella once again found herself running, breathless, through thick undergrowth. Battling her way through tangled grass and bushes, fending off twigs and branches as the sound of her pursuers got closer. Her legs felt weak and on the point of giving way when she tripped over an exposed tree root, stumbled and fell. The ground opened up and a darkness consumed her as she continued to fall, faster and faster…

  Bella awoke with a cry of alarm, the room in total darkness, unable to determine where she was, her heart pumping wildly. Awareness slowly kicked in and she fumbled for the switch of the bedside lamp, perspiration moistening her finger tips. Her skin was cold, clammy and she began to shiver, needing the dressing gown which was on the back of the door and she got out of bed to get it. Slipping it over her shoulders, she heard the plaintiff miaowing of the cat, somewhere along the landing. The images from the dream were still with her as she walked, unsteadily, towards the small bedroom at the far end, where the noise seemed to be coming from. It was laying on the single bed in the room, the light from the hallway reflecting in its eyes, making it look malevolent, predatory even. Bella shivered again and, as she entered the room, the cat jumped off the bed and ran past her along the hallway then she turned and watched it as it disappeared down the stairs.

  Chapter Nine

  Bella woke exhausted, feeling like she had only just gone to bed. There was an air of unreality about the morning, not unlike the sensation of waking up with a hangover. She seemed in some way detached from everything that had taken place in the past twenty-four hours. The accident, Kyle Lucas, the dream, it was as if it had all happened to someone else and she had just been a spectator, watching from the sidelines. A familiar sound clamoured for her attention and she recognised it as the front door bell. Bella tried to focus on the clock. What time was it? Five to eight! Who on earth would be calling at this hour? When she went to get out of bed, a spasm of pain, choreographed to her movements, scythed through her neck and lower back causing her to gasp. It quickly removed the last vestige of detachment from the events of yesterday. Proceeding in the manner of an octogenarian walking on broken glass, she manoeuvred her bruised and aching body towards the door, plucking her dressing gown from the bed, where she had left it. Whoever was at the door demonstrating their impatience was just going to have to wait until Bella had shuffled there in her own good time.

  Cora Flint stood there, grim-faced, arms folded, watching the door slowly open to reveal Bella’s face, and seeing the disbelief clearly etched into it.

  “Cora….” She was absolutely lost for words but silently congratulated herself for remembering to use the woman’s christian name.

  “I likes to start early!” Beside her, on the ground, was a bucket containing cleaning materials which she picked up, obviously in preparation for crossing the threshold to begin work. Bella couldn’t recall having asked for her help. Her hand went to her forehead as she tried to remember, as if smoothing it would make the answer suddenly appear, like the genie in the lamp. Surely Kyle had only asked her to come back and see if she was needed.

  “Sorry, Cora, I’m not feeling too good, right now…”

  “Sooner I gets started, the better, then!” She made to move forward and Bella had no option but to open the door wider and let her in.

  “You takes yourself off to bed, if that’s what you wants. I’ll just get about my business. I knows where everything is.” Bella felt the need to say something, put the woman in her place, even, but she simply didn’t have the strength. The combined effects of the accident and her interrupted night had sapped her energy to the point where all she wanted to do was go back to bed. Telling herself that she’d take it up with the woman when she felt better, she watched the solid, black-clad figure head towards the kitchen. Bella lent against the door, for support, wishing that Kyle had been here to deal with her and send her on her way. Now that Cora Flint had got herself into Willow Cottage it wasn’t going to be easy to get her out. Was it even worth trying? She needed someone to do the housework and, perhaps, their relationship would improve in time. Who knows, she conjectured, under that cold, frosty exterior could beat a heart of gold. Somehow Bella doubted it.

  Bella lay and listened to the sound of the woman working downstairs, having decided that, for the time being at least, bed was the best place for her. In any event it would be impossible to attempt to work with Cora Flint around as her physical presence seemed to fill the cottage. The cat was nowhere to be seen. Probably took one look at Cora, Bella supposed, and that was it. Gone. And who could blame it? Less than twenty-four hours after the accident Bella had had enough of being incapacitated. At no time in her life, as a child or as an adult, had she been a good patient. Impatient was a better description. The noise of the vacuum cleaner being used drifted up the stairs and Bella started to become drowsy, tiredness beginning to overcome her.
Memories of the dream came back to her, as she hovered on the verge of sleep and she remembered that the cries of her pursuers had become very close. So close that she thought she had heard their voices…

  She woke to peace and quiet, feeling very rested. Carefully, she sat up in bed then checked the time. It was nearly 2.30pm and she had slept for almost six hours, which quite surprised her. Moving this way and that, bending an arm, stretching a leg, she checked on her aches and pains and was pleased to find that there was further improvement. From the silence in the cottage it was obvious Cora Flint had gone Bella realised, with relief, and immediately thought to go and see what evidence there was of her work. As soon as she stepped out of her room, the cat came running from the bedroom, at the far end of the hallway, calling to her, noisily.

  “Where have you been?” The cat hovered around her ankles, almost tripping Bella, in the process. “Careful! You’ll get yourself trodden on,” she said, admonishing the animal as she bent to give it a pat.

  “Frightened off by the Wicked Witch of the West, eh?” Together, they went downstairs and into the kitchen. A movement in the garden caught her eye and she saw the washing on the line and then the fact registered that she was looking through clean windows. There followed a thorough check of the downstairs area and it was obvious that Cora had been at work, dusting, polishing and making everything neat and tidy. Back upstairs, she went to check on the bathroom and toilet and found, to her amazement, the odd-shaped green stain on the bath which she had tried to remove, had vanished. Taps sparkled, mirrors shone and surfaces gleamed. How long had the woman been here? Then, when she came to the last room, the small bedroom at the end of the hall, it was like Cora Flint had left her signature, for on the dressing room table was a small vase of fresh flowers. They were lovely, brightening up the room, and she picked up the vase to study them. Sniffing their delicate perfume, it seemed to her a strangely sensitive gesture from a woman who appeared, outwardly anyway, to be so hard and humourless. Why not a larger display in the lounge, though? Why tuck such pretty flowers away in what was probably the darkest room in the house? Well, there was obviously more to the woman than looks might suggest and she had done a good job. A very good job, in fact. So what now? Bella sat on the bed, momentarily, and the cat jumped up beside her.