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

room upstairs. It was something she would have to watch, but she was convinced that everything would change once the book was under way.

All of a sudden she was looking forward to some human contact. There was a need to keep a balance, she felt. It was the ideal situation, as a creative environment, but she had no intention of becoming a recluse or starving herself of company. And then there was sex, a subject that she had been thinking about more than she was willing to admit, recently. Thinking back, her last relationship had ended nearly five months ago. Five months! When she had been busy promoting the book it wasn’t that other things didn’t seem to matter. There had been no time for anything else. Now she had the time, she didn’t have the means. It was all so unfair! And, again, if she was prepared to spend most of her time at the cottage, what chance was there of finding a suitable partner among the turnip folk. The memory of Jane’s comment brought a smile to her face as she got into the car but the way Bella felt it was no laughing matter.

It occurred to her as, she drove into Knapthorne, that perhaps she hadn’t thought through too well the prospect of being at the cottage by herself. Although the over-riding priority was to complete the book, her situation raised the question of at what cost? Perhaps it was going to be too far from London for people to want to make the trip. That was a possibility. Also, not being in a relationship, it was unlikely that anything would happen while she was tucked away down here. The thought of being celibate for too much longer seriously concerned her. A woman had needs and hers had been neglected for too long. As she waited at the junction, to turn left for Knapthorne, she gently squeezed her legs together.

“So Alfie’s quite taken with me, is he Cora?.” She burst into laughter. “Now that’d give his sister a bit of a shock, wouldn’t it?”

There was naturally going to be a settling in period and it became clear to Bella that she would have to give herself time to adjust. On reflection, she had taken off from London quickly, in her usual manner, and doubtless she would suffer withdrawal symptoms. It was vital to keep an open mind and not draw comparisons between here and London. Accept it for what it is and get on with it, she concluded. A thought sprang to mind. Wouldn’t it be nice to have Jane down for the weekend and just talk girls’ talk, the two of us. And maybe she can come up with some ideas for the book. Yes! Why don’t I ring her now? Needing to go to the Post Office, to get some stamps, Bella indicated to pull in, to her left, where the three parking spaces outside the Post Office were vacant. Three vacant spaces! You could live in Holland Park for ten years and never see three vacant spaces one in front of the other. Before she forgot, she reached for her phone intending to ring Jane.

“Now hold on Foxton,” she cautioned herself, before she had even dialled the first number. “Have you learned nothing from today?” Grudgingly, she replaced the phone in the space under the dashboard. “Now go and do your shopping.” Wasting no time, she got out of the car and went to make her purchase, although her mind was elsewhere, thinking about Jane and Laura, Ben, her mother and how other people affected her own life.

“Can I help you?” Bella was standing by the wire grille at the counter of the shop. The light wasn’t good inside and she hadn’t noticed the woman behind the counter. She was old and bent, with a face that looked like all the air had been sucked out of it. Her scalp was visible through thinning, grey hair and spectacles dangled from a chain around her neck.

“Sorry,” Bella apologised. “I didn’t see you there. I’d like some stamps, please. I’ve just got two letters, to go to London.” She held them up for the woman to see. Moving as if in slow motion, the woman produced a small folder containing stamps from under the counter.

“Not seen you before,” the woman said, in a small, rasping voice.

“No. I’m new to the village,” Bella confessed, giving her a broad smile, although she still had her head in the folder, apparently having problems tearing the stamps out. Probably hasn’t got the strength, poor thing, Bella thought.

“You’d be up at Willow Cottage, then?” She had finally detached the stamps and pushed them forward on the counter.

“Yes. Yes, that’s right,” Bella confirmed, realising that everyone in the village must be aware of the fact by now.

“That’ll be one pound forty pence, then.” Bella passed over two, one pound coins. “Likin’ it up there, are you?” the old woman asked as she took the money in her slim, bony fingers, the skin on her hand almost opaque. The question was unexpected and Bella stared at her for a moment.

“Very much,” she replied, once she had found her voice. “I’m enjoying being here. It makes such a change from London.” The old woman’s eyes widened, briefly.

“Ain’t never been to London. Never been and never likely to, not now. Not that I’d want to, not at my time of life.” She rung up Bella’s purchase and took the change from the till, pushing the money under the grille.  “People like me’s ‘appy to die in Knapthorne not having seen London. Not like some.” Without a smile or a thank you, she turned away, leaving Bella, slightly nonplussed, holding her change.

“Well that was a cheerful little encounter,” she remarked, softly, as she walked outside into the sunshine, licking each stamp then placing it on the envelope. A car door slammed, making her look up. Someone had just got out from