The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  Laura had left the cottage seething with anger and bitterness only to find that she had forgotten her umbrella. To hell with it, she thought, I’m not going back to get it and have those two laughing at me. Puddles had formed in the driveway from the heavy rain and with the mood she was in Laura didn’t notice until she stepped in one, further displeasing her. By the time she reached the car, which she had left a little way from the cottage to give her room to turn, her hair had been flattened and there were signs that her make-up was beginning to run. In her eagerness to get inside she found she couldn’t make the key work and she steadily became more incensed.

  “Shit!” she screamed into the wind and the rain. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Finally, the key turned and she opened the door, literally throwing herself into the driver’s seat to get out of the rain. Of course it was all her sister’s fault. The weather, the umbrella, everything. Grabbing at the rear-view mirror she studied the damage inflicted on her by the elements and began to talk to herself as she undertook remedial action.

  “The brazen bitch! Not content with having this place drop into her lap,” and, she had to admit, it was nice, “she’s having an affair with the fucking solicitor!” Spurred by ill-temper she flicked furiously at her hair with the fingers of one hand in an attempt to dry it. “I wonder if the bastard’s married?” she asked her reflection. “Must be!” Malicious thoughts crowded her narrow mind as all sorts of possibilities occurred to her and, suddenly, her day began to improve dramatically.

  The Bankes Arms turned out to be an attractive 16th-century building built of local Purbeck stone in a stunning location overlooking the sea. From here it was possible to gain access to a track that led along the clifftops, to Swanage and beyond with some of the most stunning scenery in the country along the way. They set off arm-in-arm, like young lovers, Bella talking in an animated fashion about her experiences at the cottage and Ben happy to listen, savouring a freedom he rarely felt. The track never strayed far from the cliff edge, to their left, while on their right acres of tall grass swayed and whispered to the whims of the breeze. After walking for about twenty minutes the path climbed to a high plateau about fifty yards distant and, on reaching it, Ben took her hand and led her off the track to go as close as they dare to the edge.

  “That’ll do!” Bella cried, a little nervously, holding him back. “It’s a bloody long way down there and I don’t think you can get return tickets!” Ben laughed and gave her a quick hug.

  “I haven’t got a great head for heights,” he admitted, “and I know the edges can be quite unstable.” From where they stood atop the cliffs looking out to sea the view was breathtaking. Under a blue sky chock full of billowing white clouds the sea, eight hundred feet below them, gleamed and sparkled like burnished silver. On the horizon, to their left, the high-rise skyline of Bournemouth shimmered in the haze like a distant mirage while, on their right, a seemingly endless expanse of water was dotted with many craft of all shapes and sizes. An intrusive sound suddenly disturbed the all-encompassing peacefulness as a large motor yacht headed out into the English Channel, bound for France. The deep throbbing of its twin Perkins diesels carried fully two miles across the water and, as it faded with distance, all that could be heard was the gentle susurration of the wind. Bella slipped her arm through Ben’s, the breeze ruffling her hair and wafting the delicate, expensive scent of her in his direction. The enormity of the panorama and the tantalising proximity of such an attractive woman provoked a deep emotion within him and he felt compelled to take her in his arms. She looked up at him, for an instant, then gave herself up to a longing that she had acknowledged, and denied, for too long, pressing herself against him as their lips met. Ben thrust his body against hers and she felt his response as their kisses became more passionate. She felt the pressure of his knee against her legs, probing, pushing, seeking to force them apart and she relaxed to accommodate him feeling the hardness of him against her. Something feral in her nature, long dormant, had been aroused and she, in turn, bore down against the pressure of him, trembling from the sensual shockwaves that pulsated through her. A primal urge, more demanding than common sense or morality, seized them both and they pulled apart, breathless. Bella was on the brink, craving satisfaction, yet Ben saw the brief flicker of doubt or uncertainty in her eyes. She knew that if he went any further she would be powerless to stop herself and guessed that he sensed as much by the look on his face. Ben wasted no time, grabbing her hand to lead her back across the track to where the long grass beckoned as an alien sound invaded their space. Young voices yelling and squealing with excitement as they suddenly saw the vista opening up in front of them. Bella pulled away and turned in the direction of the noise to see a party of young children coming over the rise from the other direction.

  Seated at one of the tables in the garden bar of the Bankes Arms, Bella tilted her sunglasses up from her eyes and sat them on the top of her head. Lifting her face towards the sun, she gave herself up to its delicious warmth while she waited for Ben to come back with their drinks and the sandwiches they had chosen from the menu. She was still awash with relief that the children had prevented her and Ben from going any further, quite literally, for they had stood rooted to the spot watching the kids come towards them. It was a Sunday school group from Winchester, consisting of about two dozen children and eight adults, on their annual outing and their appearance had succeeded in destroying the moment and killing any prospect of ecstasy. Bella had found no difficulty in seeing the funny side of the situation but for Ben, who’d just recovered from the shock of meeting Laura, it was his second major disappointment of the day. Still, he appeared to have recovered as she watched him approach carrying a tray with the drinks and sandwiches. As he put the tray down on the table, he gave a little chuckle and shook his head.

  “Talk about divine intervention!” he said, feigning exasperation. “It had to be a bloody Sunday school, didn’t it?” As he sat down with her he picked up his glass and proposed a toast.

  “To Paradise Lost!” It was done in good humour but she could tell from his eyes that he was picturing what might have been with the two of them naked in the long grass. Would she have gone through with it? The answer had to be yes, she told herself, but she got no comfort from the fact. It would have been an act of pure animal instinct fuelled by desire, not love, and driven by a need for physical release. She had come so close that it would make it more difficult to deny Ben the next time and, for the first time that day, she thought of Kyle knowing it was only a week till she would see him. Wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn’t realised that Ben had been studying her.

  “You’re extraordinary, do you know that?” he said.

  “In what way?” Bella wasn’t sure what he was referring to.

  “Every way, everything about you. Your face. Your hair. Your Body. I was just thinking how lucky I am to be with you.”

  “Are you sure?” He looked perplexed.

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Are you sure you weren’t thinking about what might have been, back there?” She nodded in the general direction of the track, mischief in her eyes.

  “I’d be a liar if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind but then I tend to think that these things happen for a reason.” He said it so convincingly Bella couldn’t help but let out a yelp of laughter, attracting the attention of a family at the nearby table.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “That wasn’t what you said at the time if I remember rightly, Ben Hollingsworth!” She had him cornered but he put together a combination that not only stunned her but almost knocked her off her feet completely.

  “What do you expect, Bella? Christ, it was in the heat of the moment!” A pained expression served to qualify his statement. “A severe case of coitus interruptus without the coitus.” She exploded with laughter, this time, nearly spilling her drink in the process. “But, I think, in hindsight, it might not have been a bad thing.” Nothing in the look on his face gave any indication of wh
at was on his mind.

  “What makes you say that?” she asked, a little warily. There was a moment’s delay before he answered, as Ben chose his words carefully, and Bella experienced the most odd sensation. It was as if the world was standing still, waiting for his reply, although she could hear the sound of cars coming and going from the pub’s car park in the background and the cries of the gulls overhead.

  “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, as I certainly would have done if that group hadn’t have come along.” He spoke quietly and in earnest, adding sincerity to his words. “You might have that impression anyway, I don’t know.” She went to speak but he held up a hand. “I’ve no experience of this sort of thing and I very nearly made a fool of myself, back there.” Her face softened and she reached across the table to take his hand.

  “ You’re so beautiful, Bella, and I don’t deny I want you,” he looked up, into her eyes, holding her gaze to demonstrate how sincere he was. It had never failed him, in the past. “I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you these past weeks, that’s why I had to come down and see you, whatever the risk. Laura included!” She smiled at him with her eyes. “And I’ve been thinking about many other things besides,” he continued. “My life. My future. My family. My marriage.” Heavy emphasis was placed on the last item on the list and Bella’s back stiffened, in shock, as she sensed what he was about to say. He squeezed her hand before he took the irrevocable step.

  “Are you going to say what I think you’re going to say?” His gaze didn’t waver as he replied to her question.

  “If Tina and I were to split up…” he hesitated to give the words full effect. ‘Do you think there’s any possibility of you and I having any sort of a permanent relationship?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ben provided an interesting diversion for Laura’s fertile imagination, offering another means of putting a spoke into the lucky wheel of fortune that always seemed to stop in all the right places for her sister. Laura’s jealousy of Bella had been meticulously nurtured into hatred, fuelled again in more recent years by Bella’s success, as she had watched the fledgling author’s career take off then go supersonic when Lingering Doubts had hit the afterburner. All through her life she had had to play second fiddle to the girl who seemed to have the Midas touch in every aspect of her life and the cottage was the final straw. The seeds of her jealousy were handed down at birth in the form of a genetic imprint, ready to sprout when needed, as part of the natural development of her personality. This side of her character first surfaced with her parents, playing one off against the other, then her sister came along, tailor-made as prey for Laura’s ravenous green-eyed monster. Bella had tried her hardest to please her older sister in so many ways when they were young but it was a labour that would have defeated Hercules himself. But something more sinister, more consuming even, drove Laura’s repugnance of her sister. It was Bella, and Bella alone, that she held responsible for her father’s death. The father that she had loved so dearly. When Rupert had tried to act as surrogate for Patrick, with the best of intentions, Laura had treated him with a suspicion which, with the passing of the years, had grown into deep resentment.

  Although there were signs in the distance that the weather was improving, the rain was still falling heavily and Laura didn’t feel inclined to leave the car. Having made her way to the village, her mind full of the implications of the solicitor’s arrival at the cottage, she wanted somewhere where she could sit and think. The car park in front of the church, only big enough to accommodate half a dozen cars, was empty and Laura had pulled up and parked under the huge chestnut tree. Against her sister’s wishes she had wanted to see the cottage, anxious to discover exactly how well Bella had profited from her close relationship with Rupert. Well, now she knew and it sickened her. She was the elder of the sisters and, if anyone should have had the cottage, it should have been her. All she’d got she reminded herself, was that fucking necklace, which she couldn’t even hock off, which had been her plan. Rupert had even thwarted that, the old bastard. Was there any way open to her, she wondered, whereby she could lay her hands on the cottage? Any means, legal or otherwise, because she’d just love to see the look on Bella’s face when she threw her out. Her thoughts returned to the solicitor and the significance of his visit. How timely for her to have been there and found out what was going on. Well, she’d stir things up there alright. His was no business call, you could tell by the way they looked at each other. What was his name again? Holdsworth? Hollingsworth! That was it. She’d got the letter about the will at home somewhere so it shouldn’t be too difficult to find out where he lived. Oh, I’m going to enjoy this. I think I’ll start my little game when I get back to the cottage. Slowly, the shape of her mouth changed assuming the hint of a grin but it was totally lacking in humour, motivated instead by the inviting prospect of causing trouble.

  When the rain eventually stopped about fifteen minutes later Laura drove out of the car park and along to the village green, which she circumnavigated in order to head back the way she had come.

  “Who’d want to live in this fucking dead backwater?” she said, in amazement, looking to the left and the right as she cruised along the main street, noting the few cars parked at the kerb and a handful of pedestrians on the street. “Someone who’d just inherited a fucking cottage here, I suppose!” the inspired remark effectively answering her own question. With little to see and less to do Laura decided to go back to Willow Cottage having been away for about forty five minutes. In her mind’s eye she tried to construct the scene as she walked back in, and how she would play it. She was in no doubt that either of them would be looking forward to her return which pleased her immensely and she turned into the drive harbouring great enthusiasm for her grand entry. Laura let out a whoop of delight as she saw that the solicitor’s car had gone from the front of the cottage.

  “No balls, eh?” she remarked, gleefully. “Dear Arabella’s not going to be too pleased with me for chasing lover boy off. What a shame!” Feeling extremely satisfied that the day was turning out so well, she exited the car and approached the front door of the cottage. Something didn’t feel right, however, as she rung the doorbell. Then rung it again. As she rung it for the third and final time it had become obvious that nobody was home.

  “The bloody bitch!” Laura yelled, stamping her foot in anger. “I don’t believe it!”

  For a day that had started off promising trouble, with the arrival of both Ben and Laura, the end result had been most enjoyable for Bella. Swift thinking had left Laura isolated and unable to get in the cottage while allowing Ben and herself to make the most of their time together. And they had certainly done that. The invigorating walk along the cliffs and the intimate contact with Ben had put Laura out of her thoughts altogether. Then Ben’s remark, at lunch, had thrown her completely, putting her mind in a whirl. After leaving the pub they had, as Ben had suggested earlier, gone to Corfe Castle and played the part of tourists. From the little that remained of the sturdy structure, it was difficult to imagine that this had once been one of England’s strongest Norman castles. Thought to have been built in either the 12th or 13th century it had played a strategic role in the Civil War, before being besieged, and eventually captured, by Cromwell’s army. Parliament had then ordered the castle to be demolished, leaving time and the elements to conspire in reducing the skeletal structure to the bare fragments of today's ruins. Entering through the gateway in one of the outer walls, hand-in-hand they climbed the grassy knoll overlooking the town, wandering through the randomly dotted grey stone outcrops scattered over the green carpet like a sculpted termite colony. Even with her vivid powers of imagination, Bella found it hard to transform the scene that confronted her into the sturdy medieval collossus the castle had once been. Closing her eyes she endeavou
red to picture opposing armies fighting a bloody battle for possession of the castle, three and a half centuries ago and tried to imagine the terrible noise and confusion. Blinking now in the strong sunlight, the overwhelming peacefulness of the rural scene that confronted her defied any possibility of such perceived horror. The ghostly hand of history reached out and touched her, for a fleeting moment, and she shivered at the thought of actually standing on the site of such a battlefield. Ben slipped his arm around her thinking that maybe she was getting cold as the sun went behind a cloud.

  Later, they marvelled at the uniformity of the town’s ubiquitous soft-grey buildings, built from blocks of locally-quarried stone, as they ambled along, strolling through the streets relaxed and happy in each other’s company and looking like they’d known each other for years.

  “So, how’s the book coming along then?” They had been enticed into the café by the aroma of fresh coffee and were seated at a table by the window, looking out onto the main street.

  “Funny you should ask,” Bella replied. “It was going through my mind, right then.” She gave a little self-conscious laugh. “But it’s not something I like to talk about. No offence, you understand,” she added, looking up at him.

  “That’s ok. I wasn’t after details or anything like that. Just wondered if you’d made a start, that’s all?” Her face softened, her mouth curling into a smile.

  “Yes I have but its very early days yet. I feel good about it, though, that’s the main thing.”

  “Do you ever put characters you know, into your books? I mean, other than your last one?” His comment caused her to laugh.