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

as much as anything but could find no surrogate capable of matching her looks or personality. For weeks he buried himself in his work, dispensing with a social life, his occasional fits of temper upsetting the once happy-go-lucky atmosphere of the workplace. Colleagues dismissed his behaviour as a temporary aberration, citing the breakdown of his marriage, but trod warily in his presence. As the urge for sex grew stronger he began to indulge in casual relationships of the most basic kind, picking a girl up in a club or a bar. Once or twice before, like tonight, when he had been working for days on end and wanted quick gratification with the minimum effort, he would cruise the streets. There was going to come a day, he knew for sure, when the temptation of those soft young bodies for sale would prove too much. In the meantime maybe he was going to be lucky tonight. As he approached the railway station Kyle Lucas spotted a girl thumbing a lift.

Chapter Thirteen

In her short time at the cottage, Bella had found the circumstances of working in such a large open space as the room in the roof to be a little intimidating. Earlier in the week she had spotted an advertisement in the Dorchester Echo announcing an antiques fair in the town, on Sunday, and thought she might go along to see if she could pick up some screens. Strategically placed, they would serve to give the effect of a more intimate working area. The ad was pinned to the notice board in the kitchen, as a reminder, and it caught her attention as she went to the fridge to get some milk for Ubix. So far the omens for the day were not good. After the unwelcome interruption of her night’s sleep Bella had lain awake for a long time before eventually drifting off. When the sound of the phone’s insistent beckoning had roused her she swam to the surface of wakefulness annoyed that she’d only just succeeded in falling asleep. A bleary-eyed squint at the radio alarm put the lie to her assumption. It was nearly 7.30am and her drowsiness was short-lived, detonated out of existence by the acid tones of Laura’s abusive voice when she put the phone to her ear. Bella held the phone away from her while the invective continued unabated and she made no attempt to interrupt but neither was she given the opportunity as the tirade went on. Certain words were more audible than others leaving her in doubt as to the reason for the call. Then, after screaming a final obscenity, there was an overwhelming silence as powerful in its own way as the unbridled ranting that she had just been subjected to. Bella lay there like she had been captured in freeze-frame, the phone held away from her ear as though Laura was still on the line, stunned into a state of mild shock by the minacious nature of her sister’s call.

She yawned as she poured the milk into the cat’s bowl. A stray thought captured her attention as she recalled a moment from the previous day, when she and Ben were at Corfe Castle, and he had slipped his arm around her and she smiled at the memory. There were many things about him she liked, but enough for them to establish a permanent relationship? Recognising that she was becoming less impulsive than she used to be, Bella preferred to let things go on as they were and see what happened. More than ever before there was a purpose to her life now and there were other considerations besides a relationship, other priorities she would give precedence to. Bella yawned again feeling the urge to sit down and collect her thoughts. A disturbed night’s sleep always made her feel slothful and lacklustre and certainly wasn’t an aid to clear thinking. Neither was the vitriolic nature of Laura’s phone call and she gave an involuntary shiver at the memory it. Sitting down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table she rested her forehead on the upturned palms of her hands, elbows on the table, and sighed audibly. The recurring dream was beginning to unsettle her yet it wasn’t that frightening she told herself not like a true nightmare where she might wake up screaming, God forbid. It was the feeling of being hunted down like a wild animal, of the inevitability of being caught, only to wake up before that final act took place. Not that wake up came anywhere near describing the process that propelled her into consciousness. Sitting up in bed suddenly like she was spring-loaded, drenched in perspiration with a wildly beating heart, couldn’t even in the loosest of terms be described as waking up. Her eyes were tired, gritty and she rubbed at them gently with the palms of her hands not knowing what to make of it all. Content to sit in a state of suspended animation, Bella let her mind wander through the events of the past few weeks since Willow Cottage had come into her possession.

In a short space of time her life had been turned upside down and strangers had entered her world like players taking the stage to assume roles in a new production. As for the idyllic first impressions of the cottage, these were now tempered by an indefinable sense of...what exactly? She found it impossible to articulate but her thoughts kept returning to Cora Flint, someone who’d been associated with Willow Cottage over a long period of time therefore the odds on her knowing intimate details of its history should be excellent. Would she be able to offer an explanation, though, if she was given details of the dream? On the other hand, Bella thought rather glumly, even if she knew anything would she be likely to reveal it to a stranger from outside the village community? That could be a problem. Rather than daunting Bella,