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

at Willow Cottage gave Bella no concern. Like many people who had never been exposed to a break-in or personal attack, she harboured no fears for her own safety or security. It was as though the constant headlines featuring a daily diet of crime and violence related to another dimension, the world outside that was a world away from her life and its comfort zone. If there was a worry it was that perhaps she was becoming too insular, too reliant on her own company which, she had to admit, she enjoyed and it was a sacrifice she was willing to make for her work. It was in her mind to go back to London soon, for a short break, to see her hairdresser for one thing and to catch up with friends, several of whom had rung since she’d been at the cottage, and issue invitations to come visit. Company at weekends would provide the ideal balance to her hermit-like existence during the week. This seclusion suited her admirably but she had discovered the week held small highlights she looked forward to with excessive enthusiasm given their mundane nature. Even the routine appearance of Cora and Joshua fell into this category but one event in particular stood head and shoulders above the rest. Encouraged by her mother, Bella had become something of a letter-writer as a child. Growing up in a bi-lingual environment she had taken a greater interest in language than most and, long before she became aware of it, the seeds of a literary career had been sown. As she grew up and technology improved the art of communication Bella continued to keep in contact with friends and family by letter. This enjoyment of writing was more than matched by the thrill of receiving letters so the arrival of the post generated an exclusive level of excitement. Never more so than at Willow Cottage where the delivery of post was generally of a much more personal and intimate nature than in London. Mickey Partridge was young and effervescent, there was no other way to describe him. And he was in love with Bella. Hopelessly and completely in love with her and she looked forward to him arriving more than he would have ever realised. To his eternal embarrassment he would go as red as the post van he drove if she ever said anything personal to him or paid him a compliment which just made Bella tease him all the more. The friendly toot of the van’s horn would announce his presence and he knew that, if she were in, it would bring her out to meet him.

“Morning Mickey!” Bella had been painting her fingernails when she’d heard the van arrive and was shaking her hands gently, arms held away from her, as she walked to his van. She had chosen to wear a pair of linen slacks and a silk shirt in a soft caramel colour which complemented her hair. As usual, he had driven the vehicle around through three hundred and sixty degrees so that he was facing the way he had come in and the driver’s door was nearest the cottage.

“Expectin’ comp’ny, are you?” He couldn’t take his eyes off her as he slipped down from the driver’s seat. Not only did she look stunning but as she got closer the delicate, subtle fragrance of her intoxicating perfume wafted all around him, enticing his thoughts to matters far removed from delivery of the mail. To Mickey’s credit, his grin remained in place, masking the turmoil going on in his head. Bella had more than a sufficient knowledge of the workings of the male mind, especially the young male mind, to guess what was going on in Mickey’s. She ignored the question. For her part, she was thinking that if she were ten years younger she might have enjoyed having a fling with Mickey. There was no question she looked forward to his visits because he was always so cheerful and full of life. Of medium height and solid build there was an energy about him that spoke of fitness and vitality. His eyes were startlingly blue in a round, open face and contrived to make him good-looking in a down-to-earth sort of way. His tousled blond hair was already receding though he was not yet twenty-five. Mickey came across as being honest and uncomplicated and it all added up to giving him a sort of puppy dog quality which Bella found immensely attractive.

“Do I look ok, then?” She held her arms out wider for Mickey to examine the whole outfit. His eyes never left the top of her shirt with its top two buttons undone where the material was pulled tight across her breasts by the action of spreading her arms. He gulped, seemingly unable to speak and some internal mechanism injected a pink tinge to his flesh, from neck to cheeks, that slowly darkened to a deeper red.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then, shall I?” Bella lowered her arms to her sides to put him out of his misery. “What nice surprises have you got for me today?” She could see that there was at least one postcard amongst the mail he held for her.

“There’s…” the word came out somewhat strangulated and Mickey coughed to clear his throat. Bella bit her lip to stop herself from laughing but there was mischief in her eyes. “There’s a postcard, from Italy by the look of it, two letters and a couple of bills,” he replied, handing them over.

“Going to stay like this, all day?” she asked him, with one eye on the weather.

“More ‘n likely, I should reckon,” The smile was back in his voice, as he answered, having regained his composure. “Doin’ somethin’ special are you, then?”

“Maybe, Mickey I don’t know. I’ve got someone calling in and we might go out somewhere.”

“Boyfriend is it?” He tried to make his voice sound light, disinterested as he watched her reading the card.

“No, just