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

confide in her mother, she had considered running away or even taking her own life but it hadn’t come to that as fate had  stepped in to take the matter out of her hands. It would have been very unusual, under the circumstances, for her mother not to have noticed the difference in Gina over the past few weeks. The unusual silences, for one thing, and how she seemed to have lost her sparkle, her enjoyment of life. It was almost as though she were preoccupied with something and Doris Allsop had suppressed a niggling, dark thought, pushing it to the back of her mind and telling herself not to be so daft. Then, one morning, walking past the bathroom, she had heard a noise that stopped her dead. Frozen to the spot, her heart thumping like the old generator in the barn, she had listened to the sound of her daughter being sick and she knew. Knew immediately that what she had convinced herself couldn’t possibly happen to her daughter was now a reality. Every mother’s nightmare had invaded her home, breeching the comfortable security of her domestic life, and she struggled with the avalanche of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her as she hovered outside the bathroom door. Without warning the door opened and mother confronted daughter. No words were necessary, for Gina only had to look at her mother’s face to realise that any explanation was going to be superfluous.

“How far are you gone?” her mother asked, looking at the girl’s waist. The voice was icy, calm, without a hint of emotion, giving no indication of the tornado whirling in her mother’s mind as reaction set in. Gina was shaking, she couldn’t help herself. Still feeling nauseous after being sick she hadn’t been prepared for coming face-to-face with her mother and the shock affected her badly. Two little blobs of red colour stood out, high on her cheeks, against the porcelain whiteness of her face and she felt as though she was going to pass out.

“Three months,” she whispered, clutching at the door for support.

“Whose is it? Who’s done this to you?” Gina wanted to cover her ears, she was making it sound horrible. “Your father’ll do for him, whoever it is, that’s for sure!” The thought was too much for Gina and her eyelids flickered rapidly before she passed out and slid to the floor.

Tanglewood Cottage was over one hundred and twenty years old and of very solid construction but it didn’t prevent the sound of the argument from downstairs penetrating into her bedroom. After she had passed out, her mother had picked her up and carried her there and throughout the day Gina had drifted in and out of sleep her mother coming in once or twice to check on her and then to bring her some home-made soup. Nothing more had been said about the baby, Gina feeling too weak and Mrs. Allsop too distraught. The noise from downstairs had woken her. The light was fading, indicating that it was well into the evening, so her father must have returned and her mother had chosen to tell him. Even though she was in a warm bed, Gina’s body turned cold. Just thinking about her father’s reaction started her pulse racing and brought her out in a sweat under her thin cotton nightdress, knowing that any moment she might hear the sound of his heavy footsteps on the stairs. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear it any longer. Weak as she was, she had to hear what was going on. Slowly, carefully, she eased herself out of bed and crept onto the landing. The voices were much clearer now.

“I’m telling you, woman, that’ll be the way of it, d’you hear?” She had never heard so much anger in her father’s voice. Never heard him shouting at her mother in such a way.

“But Frank!” her mother protested, obviously in tears. “She’s hardly more than a child! Where’s your forgiveness?” It had gone ominously quiet and Gina had no trouble picturing the look on her father’s face. Her hands were trembling as she held on to the wooden rail.

“Forgiveness?” His voice shattered the silence. “What’s to forgive? Forgive a daughter who we’ve brought up in our home and given everything she’s ever wanted. And how does she repay us? By behaving like some rutting farm animal behind our backs.”

“Frank! How could you say such a thing? She’s your daughter, your own flesh and blood!” Doris pleaded, her raised voice quavering with emotion.

“My mind’s made up, like I said, Doris. I’m not having everyone in the village gossiping about us, being made the subject of every bit of tittle-tattle. She’s to go. I’ll not have her in this house any longer!” For a moment he stood facing her, breathing heavily, chest heaving with the violence of his rage. Then the onslaught continued. “You tell me she’s sickly, eh? You don’t want me to see her? That’s fine! You make whatever arrangements you like but don’t let me set eyes on her, ok?” He turned for the door and Doris stared at his back, unable to believe he would completely disown his own daughter. Then he stopped, the door half-open, and turned back to her a grim, vengeful look on his face. Almost as an afterthought he spoke again, his voice cold and menacing. “When I find the bastard responsible for this, and I mean when, I’ll give him a hiding he’ll never forget!” Gina gave a little jump, at the shock of the door slamming, then sunk to the floor in tears weeping silently, her mind numb, her world in ruins. After a while, when the chill of the evening began to make her shiver uncontrollably, she got up slowly and returned to her room. Closing the door behind her she lay down on the bed, curled up, and cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Two (2010)

It had taken Arabella Foxton approximately ten years to become an overnight success