“Well, I definitely felt there was something odd about the cottage. I mean other than you, that is, darling!” she added, dissolving into noisy laughter but seeing the threatening look on Bella’s face recovered herself quickly.
“Anything else odd happened since I was there?” Her question prompted Bella to recount the story of finding Alfie outside Willow Cottage and her subsequent meeting in the pub with Samuel Handysides. Jane listened with interest.
“From your reaction, I take it you don’t believe his version of events.” Bella flicked her head, running a hand through her hair, before she replied.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill but Kyle seems keen to look into it. Thinks it might have potential for a screen drama.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Probably,” Bella answered, with a sigh. “But it would be nice to get to the bottom of it one way or the other.” Jane looked thoughtful.
“So where does this leave, whatsisname? Ben, the solicitor chap. He’s the one who started all this, isn’t he?”
“Yes. I suppose you could look at it like that,” Bella replied, wistfully.
“Do I detect a note of reticence in the voice, Ms Foxton? Heading for the door marked ‘Exit’ is he?” It had the required effect of making her friend smile.
“Probably. He wants something more than a casual relationship but he’s still married, of course. Not that it sounds like much of a marriage…” Jane butted in, eager to offer her opinion.
“Takes two to make a marriage, good or bad, sweetheart. Rarely does the blame lay on one side only for a failed marriage!”
“Thank you, Claire Rayner, for that educated insight.” Bella glowered at Jane. “I am aware of that!”
“So, what are you going to do about it, darling? I should be so lucky to have men queuing up like that!”
“You’re not doing so bad by the sound of it. And the look of you,” she emphasised, giving Jane a warm smile. Then she shrugged her shoulders in response to Jane’s question. “I don’t know, Jane. I’ll maybe let things sort themselves out naturally. There’s no denying,” she added, with a lascivious grin, “that I could do with a man in my life, right now. Trouble is I don’t want him to take over and that’s what usually happens.”
On leaving the pub they had parted with Jane promising to be in touch soon and Bella noticed she made no mention of wanting to come down to the cottage again. Perhaps she had felt more spooked than she’d let on. But Bella didn’t dwell on it as she now had the evening to look forward to. A meal at Le Gavroche with two old friends, Brian Mullender and Gray Ingliss, a pair of ageing gays who had been together since the days when gay meant light and breezy and nothing more. They were theatrical people, of course. Brian, noisy and exuberant with fleshy features and a portly frame, always reminded Bella of George Melly, the jazz vocalist. Brian was a director from way back, working mainly in the provinces while Gray was the actor, or act-or, as he liked to pronounce it, with heavy emphasis on the last syllable. Grey-haired, slim and softly spoken, he possessed the rapier-like wit of an Oscar Wilde which he used with devastating effect and there was never a dull moment in the pair’s company. She had met them years ago in a West End pub when she had been dating the lead actor in a show and they had remained friends ever since. Of the lead actor, however, there was no more than a memory. As she looked, in vain, for a taxi Bella experienced the strangest feeling as a wave of emotion swept over her. It lasted no longer than a matter of seconds, rather like the jolt of a powerful earth tremor, but it took her completely by surprise. Looking around her, as though she were an alien from another planet, she searched for an answer to what had just taken place. Was she really a stranger now in these surroundings? The noise. The crowds. The traffic. The frantic pace of life. And what had happened in such a short space of time to make her feel so different? For there was no doubt in her mind as she stood on the pavement with pedestrians passing on either side of her and the roar of the traffic in her ears that her outlook had changed. As much as she was looking forward to going out tonight and to meeting up with friends tomorrow, for a lunchtime drink, she couldn’t wait to get back to Knapthorne and Willow Cottage. It was something that previously she would have considered highly improbable and, right at that moment, was at a loss to explain.
After only two days away, it was hard for Bella to believe she was so glad to be back. Granted, Ubix had greeted her as though she’d returned from a three month mission to Mars but the cat’s performance was probably more motivated by hunger than anything else, she conceded. She had treated Ubix to a machine which dispensed a regulated amount of biscuits on demand but the sprinkling of feathers and other detritus on the kitchen floor indicated that Ubix had settled for takeaways. Feeling pleasantly tired after her non-stop weekend, Bella’s thoughts turned to the open bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge and she had only just sat down at he kitchen table, in the act of pouring the wine, when her phone rang. She glanced at her watch. Seven twenty-five on Sunday evening. Who could it be?
“Bella Foxton?” She felt the urge to yawn and sipped at her wine, instead.
“Bella, it’s Kyle.” Her heart skipped a beat. The last person she’d expected to hear from. Tiredness fell away like a cloak slipping from her shoulders. “Where have you been?” It sounded like an accusation.
“What do you mean? I’ve just got back from London. I’ve been away for the weekend, that’s all.”
“I’ve been trying to ring you since Friday!”
“What about my mobile? Did you try that?” He sighed so loudly she couldn’t miss it.
“Of course I tried it! All I got was the usual message telling me that you were out of range or the phone was switched off.” Bella clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Her mobile was, indeed, switched off and upstairs on her dressing table where she had left it on Friday. She had just remembered.
“Bella?” She took another quick swig from the glass.
“Sorry! Just had to have a little cough. So why the panic to get hold of me?” Curiosity kicked in now, excitement flushing through her.
“I’ve had a bit of a result…”
“Kyle, what does that mean?” she asked, impatient now. “You sound like something from a second-rate police drama.”
“From my enquiries…about Alfie?”
“What sort of a result. What do you mean?” It was impossible to keep the urgency from her voice.
“I’ve searched back through all the newspapers around the time of his supposed accident…”
“Supposed accident?” Bella interjected. “Why do you say that?” “Just wait!” Kyle said, a little more firmly than she thought necessary. “And you’ll find out.” He continued quickly before she could say anything else.
“There’s no reports in any of the papers about an accident.” She wanted to say that wasn’t a great surprise as it was hardly the sort of thing that made the headlines, except in a truly local paper, but she bit her tongue. “But, and here’s where it gets interesting. There’s absolutely no evidence of an Alfred Flint having been admitted to hospital in Dorchester. Ever.” He let the words sink in and it was some moments before she replied.
“Ok,” she said thoughtfully. “But that doesn’t mean to say that some records might have been lost or destroyed. Don’t forget, Kyle, we’re only going on a hunch here.”
“That’s true, I grant you, but you haven’t heard it all yet.” He sounded smug and suddenly her excitement was tinged with apprehension. She shivered, as if she had seen a ghost.
“Go on, then, clever dick, what have you found out?”
“An Alfred Flint was admitted to the Sunnyside Psychiatric Hospital in the mid-sixties. He was released after a month then re-admitted a couple of months later.” There was complete silence from Bella’s end of the line. “What do you make of that then?”
The truth was, she didn’t know what to make of it. Seeing Alfie now it was not so remar
kable to find out that he had been in an institution earlier in his life, when such places were common. But it could have been the after-effects of his accident. If so, then why no record of him having been a patient in Dorchester hospital, or any other local hospital for that matter? Not surprisingly, Kyle had used a contact in health service administration to access the files. Bella had no wish to discuss the proprieties of such a thing, content to know as little as possible about Kyle’s methods. If he wanted information, she felt certain he would try and get it by fair means or foul. Was he like that with other objectives in his life, she wondered. His call had not so much left her unsettled but convinced her more than ever that her intuition was right. But right about what was another matter entirely. Kyle had rung off promising to get to Willow Cottage as early as possible on Friday evening, saying that he thought she might have appreciated learning what he had discovered and that’s why he had called. Earlier he had asked if they might possibly go to The Lamb, over the weekend, so he could see Alfie, just to satisfy his own curiosity. Bella had told him that she’d think about it but now, pouring herself another glass of wine, she was forced to reflect on whether it would have been wiser never to have mentioned anything to him in the first place. She had an uneasy feeling that somehow it may well have been better to have left things as they were.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The week got off to a bad start. Instead of enjoying the usual feeling of mild euphoria and general well-being induced by an enjoyable weekend, Bella couldn’t shake off a little cloud of depression. All she could put it down to was Kyle’s phone call but even that didn’t seem to make sense. Having got up early, at 6am, to work on the book she found that she wasn’t able to concentrate and thought that perhaps a dose of fresh air and a brisk walk might help. A quick check on the weather revealed a blustery, overcast day which could be just the thing for blowing any cobwebs away. Her gumboots were always at the ready now, in the lobby, for just such an occasion or a spot of gardening. Whoever would have thought I’d own a pair of these, she reflected, with a look of gentle amusement on her face. Bella gave a little grunt with the exertion of pulling on each one. Shrugging into a quilted waistcoat then topping her ensemble off with a woollen hat, she opened the front door. The sky was dark and threatening now and the wind had strengthened, bending treetops to its will, this way and that, whooshing through the leaves and branches, gusting in great squally blasts. She paused on the doorstep. It was easy to imagine some mythical woodland giant filling his lungs with air then puffing out his cheeks as he vented his breath through the trees. It must be the country air, she thought, forcing herself to move and shaking her head in bewilderment. The weather was more than a match for her mood, the wind buffeting her as she walked down the drive towards the lane, making her feel vital and alive as she rallied against its onslaught, her gloom dispelled by the forces of nature. Feeling one or two large spots of rain she cast a wary eye skywards at the ominous thunderclouds looking like huge bruises against the lighter grey background. Far from having the effect of persuading her not to continue Bella felt invigorated by her environment. Her objective was a small stream that ran through a gully about half-a-mile distant across Spinney Lane, which she had discovered on an earlier walk. What had made her decide to go there now she couldn’t explain, other than it was reasonably close and a definite location to aim for. Head down and digging her hands deep in her pockets she marched to the end of the drive as the rain began to fall in earnest. With a quick glance either way, up and down Spinney Lane, she crossed the road and disappeared into the trees on the other side.
By the time she returned to Willow Cottage breathless, laughing and absolutely wet through, she had been out for over forty-five minutes. The walk had not only succeeded in turning her day around but had made her appreciate, yet again, the benefits of her inheritance. Rupert could never know how he had transformed her life and helped her discover something in her own nature that she had been mostly unaware of. Bella thought about this as she tugged at her gumboots, in turn, to yank them off. Perhaps she wouldn’t have been ready for this existence before now. Her grown-up life had always been a bit like a fairground ride, which she’d stepped on as a teenager and been swept along by ever since, never having time to stop, think or look around as she enjoyed the thrills and sensations it provided. Maybe the ride had slowed down or had she now got off altogether, seeking an alternative form of amusement more in keeping with her age. Uncertain of what it might be she thanked her lucky stars as she got to her feet that Laura had got the bracelet and she had inherited the cottage. It was difficult to imagine life now anywhere else but Willow Cottage and the thought of her sister owning it made her shiver. Only then did she remember that she was soaked to the skin and ran on tip-toe towards the stairs, stripping clothing off as she went.
Standing under the shower it felt as though she was beginning the day all over again but she was now filled with an enthusiasm to carry on with her work that had been uncharacteristically absent earlier in the day. Within a very short space of time she was dry and warm, dressed in Jeans and a Nike sweatshirt, and seated at the computer munching on an apple. What had started off as a disaster was now turning into one of the better days as ideas began to flow and time slipped past almost unnoticed. Only the sound of the phone ringing caused her to stop and instinctively look at the clock as she picked up the portable.
“Bella Foxton!”
“Bongiorno, carissima!”
“Maria!” She had forgotten how good it was to hear her mother’s voice. “How are you?”
“Enjoying life, Bella mia. But how are you in that draughty old cottage of Rupert’s?”
“Who said it’s cold and draughty? Oh, let me guess. Never mind.” It was obviously Laura’s handiwork. “I’m fine mother. I got your card, thank you very much. How was Capri?”
“Beautiful. It is somewhere I have always been in love with.” Bella remembered the harbour from her one and only visit as a child and could understand how her mother felt.
“So when do I get to see you? Sometime soon, I hope, otherwise I shall be forced to take some time off and come over there!”
“That won’t be necessary. I would like to see your sister and you so I will do the travelling.” Maria’s voice sounded strained.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Maria? You sound a little tired.” Bella thought she heard a wry laugh.
“I’m fine for an old lady. Just a little problem with my breathing. It’s nothing…”
“I know you, mother. Are you taking care of yourself?” Bella interjected.
“Don’t fuss, child! I told you, I’m fine but there are things we must talk about so I need to see you.”
“What sort of things, mother?” Bella asked warily, not liking the turn the conversation had taken.
“It can wait til I see you. You’ll understand then.” She knew it was pointless to argue but found her mother very frustrating.
“When do you plan to come over then?”
“I wanted to ring both you and Laura to fix up a time, maybe in the next two or three weeks, you think?”
“Maria! I wish you’d tell me what this is all about. I shall only worry about you now.”
“Hush! Just tell me if you’re busy at all, then I’ll ring your sister, hm?” Bella took the hint and gave up.
“No, mother, I’m not busy. Only this coming weekend.” A thought occurred to her. “I hope you don’t want Laura to come down here, do you? After her last visit she’s not exactly welcome here.”
“Carissima, don’t worry! I’ll see your sister first before I come and see you, ok? I will ring her now to fix the time. When the flight is arranged I will call you to tell you. There, it is done!” Bella felt it was all most unsatisfactory but what could she do about it?
“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me now, while you’re on the phone, Maria?”
“Positive, my darling. I’ll look forward to seeing you soon. Ciao!”
&nb
sp; Completely thrown by her mother’s call, Bella found it impossible to concentrate and, in the end, gave up trying. If she hadn’t have been for a walk already it would have seemed like a great option right then. Instead, she just yelled an expletive and threw the stapler at the far wall which was well out of range but made her feel better.
“Why can’t I have a nice, straightforward mother, like other people? A mother who would come out and tell me if there was something wrong with her?” She began to pace up and down, thinking about the situation. “Now all I’m going to do is worry until I see her. Then I’ll probably worry a helluva lot more! Aagghh!” Bella threw her hands in the air, in a gesture of frustration, as something else struck her. “And then, no doubt, I’ll have Laura to contend with on another front! I don’t believe it!” Exasperation got the better of her as she realised there was no alternative but to switch off the computer and call it a day for now. Seeing that it was after one-o-clock, lunch seemed like a good idea and why not a glass of wine too? Not only was the idea good but, once she had recovered from the call, it had the effect of making her feel much more relaxed about the whole thing. Whatever it was on her mother’s mind she would find out eventually and worrying about it, she told herself, wouldn’t help her discover what it was any sooner. Work, she knew, was the best solution and so after a suitable period of self-reproof and calming down she returned once again to the room at the top of the house. Not surprisingly, it took a little time to pick up the pieces from where she had left off earlier but slowly, as she forced herself to concentrate, she caught the mood and immersed herself into the story. So engrossed was she that Ubix crept in, unnoticed, and curled up at her feet. When she finally sat back raising her arms out either side and yawning noisily it had begun to grow dark outside. Not to say that it hadn’t been fairly dark all day but evening was drawing a curtain down on the day and she had suddenly realised. Bella also noticed the cat.
The Knapthorne Conspiracy Page 32
