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

“Bella! Sorry to keep you waiting.” Jane sounded breathless when she eventually came on the line. “Must be a short book,” she gasped. It was not unusual for Jane’s comments to take her by surprise. Although Bella had lived over half of her life in England, the English sense of humour often went right over her head.

“Pardon?”

“I thought you might be ringing to tell me you’d finished it.” The penny dropped.

“Very good, Jane. You’re not on those garlic pills again, are you? They always make you a bit strange.” She was rewarded with a wheezing giggle from the other end of the line. “I’m ringing to let you know, that I’m off to Dorset tomorrow, certainly for the immediate future…”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding, as you put it!” Bella replied emphatically. "Makes sense with the deadline you've given me and I'm looking forward to the peace and quiet. So, if you want to see me, you’re going to have to hop in your car and come on down. Just don't give me a hug when we meet!" There was a short silence before Jane replied and Bella could imagine her lighting up a cigarette.

“Good for you, darling!” she said, in a tone that obviously endorsed the move. “I presume it’s so you can concentrate on the book is it?”

“Exactly. And stay healthy," she added as an afterthought. "But that doesn’t mean I won’t welcome visitors!”

“I should hope not! What are the men like down there in turnip territory, anyway?” Bella had no intention of disappointing her.

“Well, that’s something you’ll have to come down and find out for yourself, isn’t it?”

“I’ll keep you to that. How do I get hold of you?”

“Use the mobile for now. I’ll send you a card with my new phone number, when I get it.”

“Ok. Sorry, darling, must rush or I’m going to be late for an appointment.” Bella bit her lip, but she nearly said something. “Give you a ring soon. Bye!”

Feeling relieved for some reason at having told Jane, Bella sat at the kitchen table to finish her nails and think through what else she had to do. There was a small circle of close friends that she intended to ring and tell of her plans but felt that the fewer people that knew the better. Now all she needed to do was finish packing the suitcase she intended to take and take care of the minutiae associated with her decision. Like cancel the papers, have telephone calls and the mail diverted and anything else she could think of. Jonathan had been right. It was becoming an adventure. Certainly after the pressure of recent months and her total absence from writing. That’s what she was really looking forward to. Having got out of her working routine, and it had to be a routine for Bella, she knew how enormously difficult it was going to be to get started again. Especially when she had no idea, whatsoever, of what she was going to write about!

The more she tried to concentrate on developing a story for the novel, the more she came up totally bereft of ideas. In her heart of hearts she knew that when the idea was ready, it would probably come to her in a flash of inspiration. What worried her, increasingly so with the passing of each day, was exactly when this flash was going to occur. Strangely for her, or the old social butterfly that was Bella anyway, she just wanted to slip away, without any fuss and get in the right frame of mind for what she had to do. She would contact the people she had decided to tell, once she was down there. Whether it was the beginning of a process of isolation or not she wasn’t sure, but as isolation was currently a global phenomenon she was certainly on trend. All that she knew for certain was that her emotions seemed to be sending her a lot of mixed messages at the moment. Could it be the menopause at, what, thirty-four years of age? Highly unlikely, she figured, but like most women as they got older, she had been subject to all manner of stories about ‘the change’ and its effects, most of them painting a gloomy picture. Her own feeling was that for as many women that suffered because of it there were the same number that sailed through the experience and therefore had nothing to talk about. How had she’d got onto this? Perhaps it was the new book. Change for the better! A positive tale for the new millennium. Hardly. Bella sighed. All she wanted was a lazy, quiet night. She’d ring for a pizza and have a couple of glasses of wine to toast the success of the new book. Perfect!

A wide selection from her wardrobe was laid out across her bed and Bella stood back looking at it all, still unsure of what she should be taking. She had given herself strict instructions to keep it simple, but what confronted her was anything but. What would she need it all for? It was Dorset, not Davos. And why was it so hard to choose? Look, she told herself, you’re not going to be away for ever. It’s mainly sloppy, casual stuff for daywear and maybe three or four outfits for going out somewhere nice. Settle on that and get on with it. While she was deliberating over what to put back, her mobile  rang and she picked it up, glad of the interruption.

“Bella Foxton!” She waited for the voice of the caller but nothing came, and then the call was disconnected. Shrugging it off, she decided to ring for the pizza seeing as she had the phone in her hand. The company’s number was programmed into the phone’s memory and she could almost taste the anchovies as she called. It had to be the Seafood Special with extra anchovies, as it was a celebration. Within