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

Unfortunately his intellect was no match for his size. His father had seen no benefit in continuing with Tiny’s education past the age of twelve, contending he’d be more use on the farm. Whilst at school, the big lad had been shunned and taunted by the other kids with the kind of heartless cruelty reserved for others of their age who were different from what they decreed to be normal. So he had grown up lonely and unhappy until he discovered there was a demand for his physical abilities. His sheer size, by the time he had reached sixteen years of age, meant that no-one poked fun at him any more and Tiny Leadbetter had a long memory. He would never forget the names of those who had.

Like many a large man he was, in fact, very shy and therefore it was even more surprising that he was the first to speak out after Samuel had finished.

“I ‘ears what you’re sayin’ Samuel. I ‘ears it but I’m not likin’ it.” All eyes turned towards him and he coloured up. “I’m not one for speakin’ out but I can’t hold my peace. The trouble with rakin’ over old coals is that they kinda flares up if you ain’t careful. Leave well enough alone is what I’m sayin’!” He slammed a big fist down on the table to emphasise his point and made everyone jump. In the immediate silence that followed everyone looked at each other. The shock of Tiny’s unexpected outburst was clearly evident on all their faces. Unused to hearing him mutter more than a few words at a time they had been stunned by his short speech and the depth of his emotion. As reaction slowly set in the meeting began to degenerate into a noisy hubbub, forcing Samuel to call for order and banging the table with a glass to attract everyone’s attention. Gradually the noise subsided and Samuel Handysides was able to assert his authority.

“Thank you, Tiny, for givin’ us your view. I’ve never ‘eard you so heloquent, so to speak!” Muted laughter greeted the comment and Tiny wore an embarrassed grin. “Let’s not forget the serious matter at ‘and, though. Obviously Tiny is fully entitled to express his opinion but I feels I should make you all aware of which side of the fence Cora sits on over this.” There was no need to bang on the table to attract their attention now, all of them eager to hear what he had to say.

“As Mrs. Flint’s the one most haffected, I thinks we should ‘eed what she’s got to say.” His gaze fell on each of them in turn before he continued. “None of us in this ‘ere room is gettin’ any younger an’ I’m sure we all wants to live out our days with our consciences clear. Maybe you want to think on that. Anyways, Cora is all for me sittin’ down with Miss Foxton and tellin’ ‘er about Ruthy.” Murmurs of surprise rippled round the room. He had known that if there was going to be any one thing that would influence how the voting went tonight, it would be Cora’s feelings on the subject. “I would needs to be ‘appy in my own mind, o’ course, that Miss Foxton weren’t goin’ to do anythin’ rash after we’d spoken,” he added as an afterthought.

A short but orderly discussion followed and, when all those wanting a say had done so, Samuel reckoned he knew even before they voted how things were going to go. But he’d felt certain of that from the start. When the time came for a show of hands, the only person not in favour of him talking to Bella Foxton was Tiny Leadbetter.

Chapter Thirty-Three

For all Bella knew, the world outside could have ground to a halt. Some natural disaster maybe or, perhaps, a man-made catastrophe had occurred during the night and resulted in total silence. The darkness, too, was absolute. With her eyes open not even a pin-prick of light could be seen. The book she had been reading before going to sleep lay open, face down, across the clock radio. She closed her eyes briefly then opened them once more. In its blackness the room, her bedroom, was like an extension of Bella’s mind. A dark, featureless void, the same as she’d encountered with her eyes shut. Questions popped up in the void. What day was it? Thursday, the answer came right back. Somehow it felt like a Thursday, she thought. And the time? She had no intention of checking. To be pitch black, like this, Bella knew it had to be before five. She wriggled a little to get completely comfortable then adjusted her pillows, enjoying the sheer bliss of just laying there. Thursday now was automatically associated with Cora and Joshua, as much a part of her weekly routine as going shopping. Memories of yesterday’s visit to her housekeeper flashed into her mind and Bella knew that she wouldn’t be seeing her today and maybe not on any other Thursday in the future either. Something had woken her early she realised and, with a growing sense of excitement, she identified the cause. Today, possibly, she would learn the truth about Cora’s sister, Ruth, whatever it might be. Samuel had said to go back to the pub at the same time as yesterday. She was aware going back to sleep would be out of the question with the prospect of that meeting lying ahead but an early start would at least allow her to get a few hours work in first.

At about the time Cora and Joshua usually turned up Bella heard the doorbell. The interruption was unfortunate, breaking her concentration, and in a matter of seconds she was transported away from her fictional environment.

“It must be Joshua. Who else would be calling here?" she murmured, pushing her chair back. On the way down to answer the door Bella actually found herself disappointed