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

For one thing, I don’t know if I want a relationship right now and, for another, if I do get involved, I’d like it to be with someone I can trust.”

“So it doesn’t bother you that I’m married, then?” There was a hopeful note in his voice.

“I didn’t say that, and, yes, as a matter of fact, it does.” They only had eyes for each other, as if they were alone in the room, and she saw the fleeting response to her comment register on his face, a brief look of disappointment. Not so very long ago, she probably would have taken pity on him, thrown caution to the wind, and entered into a torrid, doomed affair. It would be easy enough now, she thought. He was good-looking, energetic and successful. And married. The cottage came to mind, like a breath of fresh air, and prompted her to think of the reborn Bella Foxton. Instead of jumping in at the deep end, without a second thought, as had been her habit she would now give herself the luxury of time, like a cautious pedestrian looking both ways before crossing the road.

“I’ve got a suggestion,” she said, thoughtfully. “I would very much like to be your friend, Ben, and I hope you will be mine.” His face was a mask and she was unable to see the effect of her words. “For once,” she continued, “I want to take control of my life and I’m in a better position to do that now than I have ever been.”

“Bella, I can understand…” She reached across the table and put a finger to his lips, for the briefest of moments.

“Just hear me out, Ben.” He looked put out but did as she asked. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive because, let me assure you, I do and I also enjoy your company. Let’s get to know each other. I don’t need someone to hop into bed with occasionally, right at this moment, and that’s about what you’d be offering, isn’t it? Even if you weren’t attached, I’d be thinking long and hard about it, believe me. It’s going to be nice to have my own space, all to myself, for a while.”

Ben said nothing immediately, knowing the truth in Bella’s words but wanting her nonetheless.

“While you’re thinking that over, I’ll get us another drink. Same again?”

Almost every pair of eyes in the room followed her as she got up and went to the bar and the fact wasn’t lost on Bella. The landlord came through from the public bar, when he spotted her waiting to be served.

“Your food alright?” he asked, pleasantly.

“Yes, it's fine, thank you. Could we have the same again,” she asked, pushing the two empty glasses forward. There was a group of four locals drinking at the bar, to her left, and all conversation ceased as their attention focused on her.

“Gin & tonic and a small lager, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, thanks,” she replied. He turned away to raise her glass to the optic on the gin bottle. “Unusual, these days, to see a pub that looks the same way it must have done twenty or thirty years back,” she commented, casually.

“Been in the same family for generations,” he replied, his back still towards her. “Brewery don’t see the need to spend money where it don’t have to. Regulars keeps us goin’ pretty well.” He had turned back and was reaching under the counter, for a bottle of tonic. “Don’t see your kind in here too often, you see…”

“More’s the pity,” one of the older men in the small group whispered, loudly enough to be overheard by Bella, and bringing smiles to the faces of the others.

“…what brings you this way, anyway?” the landlord asked, innocuously enough.

“I’ve just acquired a property on the outskirts of the village…” Everyone in the bar had been straining to listen to their conversation while trying to seem as though they weren't. “…Willow Cottage, do you know it?” When she mentioned the name it was as if someone had pressed the mute button on the bar’s remote control.

“In Spinney Lane?” There was something in the tone of his voice she couldn’t identify. Surprise? Disbelief? Concern? Whatever it was, it seemed to have affected the whole bar.

“Yes. It belonged to my uncle, who died some months ago.”

“Lord Easterbrook, your uncle? Well there’s a turn up and that’s no error. A fine man ‘e was, his lordship.” He turned his attention to the men at the bar. “What you lookin’ at Jacob, Billy? It’s rude to stare boys. Just you get on with your own business, eh?” It seemed to be a signal to everyone else to do the same but Bella could sense that the mention of Willow Cottage had added a touch of frost to the already distinctly cool atmosphere in the room. The landlord, seemingly the only person who was completely at ease and acting normally, placed the two drinks in front of her.

“Is it my imagination, Mr…” Bella paused, eyebrows raised, awaiting the introduction.

“Handysides. Samuel Handysides,” the landlord obliged, with a smile.

“Bella Foxton, nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be getting to know each other…”

“What was it, you’m thought you might be imaginin’ then, Miss Foxton?” So anxious was he to find out what might be bothering her, he didn’t give Bella the chance to finish what she had been saying. As his smile looked so innocent, she convinced herself that he was simply trying to be helpful.

“Is there something about Willow Cottage I should know?”

“Know?” he repeated. “In what way?”

“I got the definite impression that the mention of the name didn’t go down well, in here. I can’t really explain it.” Samuel Handysides gave a short laugh.

“I think you’m be right, Miss Foxton. It’s your imagination. All of these folk in here have known each other for years an’ they hates change. That’s why the pub be like it is, partly. You represent the unknown, an outsider if you gets