The Knapthorne Conspiracy Malcolm Ballard (most popular novels of all time .txt) 📖

crystal glasses brought out, the best wine served. Bella had been allowed wine on these occasions from when she had been only seven or eight years old, she recalled. Maria’s parents had both since passed away and the farm had been divided up between her two brothers who had each built themselves a new house and Maria had remained in the old family home.

“Some wine with lunch, mama?”

“Of course! I thought for a moment you’d forgotten your manners, cara mia.” They slipped easily into each other’s company and, as the meal got under way, Maria wanted to know all about life at the cottage and how the new book was progressing. Sensing that it wasn’t the right time to tell her mother everything that had happened, seeing that she’d only just arrived, Bella chose to give her an edited version. Later maybe, after dinner, would be the time to explain things in more depth, she decided. Neither would she press Maria about her health. Knowing her mother, she would speak about it when she was ready. But now that her mother was here, Bella was more convinced than ever that she had something to say and curiosity was killing her. Maria was one of those women that sailed blithely across life’s ocean like a small, stately ship, dignified and serene, weathering its storms with an amazing resilience. Even the turbulent times with Patrick had not disturbed her tranquillity for long and now, in later life, she was endowed with an aura of calmness that affected those around her. There was no rushing Maria and Bella knew she would just have to wait.

“That was delightful!” When Bella had spotted the prosciutto ham in Paul Aristides’ delicatessen, she had known immediately what she would cook for her mother on the first night.

“I haven’t cooked scaloppine for ages and I know it’s one of your favourites. You really enjoyed it? You’re not just being nice to your daughter?”

“Arabella, what do you take me for? It was as nice as I have ever tasted but I think I have eaten too much.”

“No room for dessert, then?” Patting her flat stomach as if she had a great paunch, Maria shook her head.

“I don’t think so, grazi.”

“Not even for zabaglione? Everything’s ready. It’ll only take me a few minutes.” Her mother looked hesitant. It was altogether too tempting to refuse. “Go on, spoil yourself!” Bella insisted, as Maria grinned and shook her head, unable to say no. “Have another glass of wine while I go and make it.” About twenty minutes later Bella returned with their dessert and they ate in companionable silence which Bella took as the prelude to her mother revealing what she had come to say, taking the opportunity to get everything straight in her mind. Her supposition proved correct. After dinner, they had seated themselves in the lounge with coffee and the remainder of the amaretti biscuits she had served with dessert. The only illumination in the room was provided by two large table lamps and in the subdued light Bella studied her mother as she sipped at her coffee. The years had been kind to her in that her skin hadn’t aged or wrinkled badly as happened with some women. Much of her adult life had been very happy and relatively stress free and Maria had always been particularly careful not to expose her skin to the sun for long periods. Perhaps this had made a difference. Her fine features still retained their classical elegance giving her a seemingly ageless look which she carried well, reminding Bella of a noble sculpture. Silver-grey hair framed Maria’s face now, hair that had once been a similar colour to her own, Bella reflected, wondering if hers would go the same way.

“Why are you staring at your mother?” She had been well and truly caught out, not realising Maria had noticed.

“Just thinking how good you look for your age.” The comment evoked a long sigh from her mother, who put her cup down and sat back in the armchair.

“Looks are not everything Arabella. Time may be kind in some ways but not in others.” Bella shuffled, restlessly, in her chair.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Quickly, she tried to think exactly how old her mother was but couldn’t work it out.

“You will find, as you get older, you start to get aches and pains. Things that you’ve always done are suddenly not so easy any more. Your body starts showing signs of getting older.” She sounded to Bella…not weary exactly, more like she had come to realise she wasn’t twenty-one any longer.

“Do you have regular check-ups?” Maria said, suddenly, in earnest. “And check yourself, that sort of thing?” Bella leaned forward, scrutinising her mother’s face.

“Maria, what’s this all about? Come on, tell me.” Her mother looked her straight in the eye.

“I have a lump, here,” she said, patting her left breast. “I am having the operation next week. The lump is not a good one, what is the word?”

“Malignant,” Bella said, softly, wanting to cry.

“Si, malignant, but they will not know how things are until after the operation. There, now you know.” Unable to help herself, Bella was in tears and Maria looked at her, dismissively. “Now stop that, child, or you will have your mother in tears, also. What good are tears? We must be positive, no?” Bella nodded, then came over and sat at her mother’s feet.

“How long have you known?”

 “I found it some months ago but told no-one.” She gave her daughter a guilty look. “I know,” she continued, holding up a hand. “Don’t tell your mother off. It was stupid of me but I thought it was nothing.”

Bella couldn’t find it in herself to speak and remained where she was, resting her head on her mother’s knee and clutching her legs as if she didn’t want to let her go, now or ever. Sensibly, Maria let her have her tears, happy to wait until her daughter had regained some