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

“Go on,” Samuel encouraged her and she raised her head, to look at him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to seem ungrateful or anything but she’s not the easiest person in the world to get along with.” She could see Samuel was about to say something so she pressed on. “She’s got a heart of gold it would appear, Samuel, but it’s so difficult trying to communicate with her.” The slight grin on the landlord’s face appeared out of sympathy, which she recognised and felt heartened by.

“Mrs. Flint’s ‘ad an ‘ard life, Miss Foxton. There’s things ‘ave ‘appened as don’t rest easy with ‘er, if you gets my meanin’.” Bella would have been surprised if he hadn’t have spoken in defence of the woman. “Cora’s done no more than built a wall around ‘erself. It’s ‘er defence against folks prying.” The message was clear in Samuel’s unwavering gaze as he raised his glass. “Cheers!”

“Tell me about Cora’s sister Ruth, Samuel.” Bella was not going to be deterred. The whiff of a long cold scent was growing stronger. Nothing tangible, nothing she could prove yet, but her instincts told her it was so and no friendly advice was about to turn her from the trail. There was nothing she could read in Samuel’s face but the atmosphere had changed. Her antennae had picked up a slight feeling of tension in the air, suddenly.

“That be a muddy pool, that one, Miss Foxton and I don’t know if you should be a-goin’ an’ stirrin’ it up.” He’s actually warning me off, she thought. Why? I’ve got to find out what’s going on. His remark only served to strengthen her determination.

“I’ve just been to see Cora and asked her about Ruth. She broke down, Samuel, and told me to come and see you. To ask you about her sister.” In the most overt display of emotion she had witnessed from the man, Samuel puffed out his cheeks, gave a hefty sigh, and vigorously massaged his face with his hands. A ploy to give himself time to think. Bella waited impatiently, hardly daring to imagine what Samuel might be going to say. Finally, he clasped his hands together in front of him on the table, rubbing one thumb against the other, nervously.

“I can’t tell you about Ruthy. Leastways, not now. It’s not up to me…”

“I don’t understand,” Bella interjected. “What do you mean, it’s not up to you?” His eyes lingered on her face while he searched for the right words to say. “There’s a lot you’re not understandin’ Miss, because there’s a lot you don’t know and more besides.” An air of condescension permeated his voice, as though he were speaking to an eager child endeavouring to run before it could walk. “If I’m sayin’ to you it’s not up to me, then that’s what I means.” He sat back, glass in hand now and stared at her. “You’re certain you wants to know about Ruthy, no matter what? Even though I’d advise you to let things be?” What was he talking about, she wondered. And why all the drama? Bella’s curiosity was aroused to such an extent now that it would be impossible to let the matter drop.

“Samuel, for goodness sake, what’s all the fuss? Yes, of course I want to know!” Somewhere, in the background, a door slammed shut but neither of them noticed, each of them too consumed by their thoughts.

“Meet me back ‘ere tomorrow then, same time, an’ we’ll see.” Samuel Handysides finished his drink and stood up. “Sometimes folk are better left to their own business, you know. You lights this fire and lord knows who’ll get burnt.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Samuel had called the meeting for six-o-clock that evening but he had gone up to the room just after five, needing time to himself.  None of them had thought it would ever come to this but now it appeared their fate lay in the hands of an outsider, something they had always feared. And, to make things worse, Samuel reflected grimly, Bella Foxton was no ordinary outsider, someone who could be turned away with a sharp remark or a carefully crafted prefabrication. Now she had the bit between her teeth it would seem that she was not going to give up. It was a sorry state of affairs for everyone, he concluded, but especially poor old Cora who had been through so much and deserved to be left alone, for the sake of her peace of mind. He shook his whiskered head slowly from side to side defeated by Bella’s reasoning and incapable of understanding why she was so interested in Ruth Flint. All he knew, in his wisdom, was that she was most likely to bitterly regret her inquisitive nature.

The others drifted in around the appointed time with either a few terse words or a brief nod until they were all, once again, seated around the table. All of them that is except Cora. Samuel wasn’t prepared to make things any worse for her than they already were. The mood in the room was one of resignation, an acceptance of the fact that the issue couldn’t be avoided and perhaps it was all for the best. It seemed as though the dreary, depressing environment of their meeting place had somehow infected them with its dilapidation. For all of them, though, it brought back memories which had all but faded. In fact, since Bella Foxton had arrived in Knapthorne, there were others whose nights had been disturbed in much the same way as hers had been. The weight of their burden over the years had taken its toll and each of them, in their own way, was experiencing some degree of relief that an end to it all might be in sight. Samuel Handysides got to his feet slowly and the room fell silent.

“I be thankin' you all for comin’.” He looked at each of them,