The Knapthorne Conspiracy by Malcolm Ballard (best english novels for beginners txt) 📕

“Not particularly,” he replied, keeping his voice even, trying to cover all eventualities. “Been going over some figures with the Financial Controller. Not much fun in that.”

“Did you enjoy the weekend?” There was definitely an icy edge to her voice now.

“The weekend?” he repeated. “You were here at the weekend. What are you talking about?” She walked across the spacious farmyard kitchen, with its central work station, hanging pans and utensils, gas hob, eye-level oven and rotisserie and imported Spanish stone floor. In her hand was a letter. His wife's anger was reflected by the fact her hand was shaking as she held the letter out to him.

“Not last weekend, Ben. I meant this one.” He took the sheet of paper from her and discovered it was no ordinary letter. The words on the page were made up of letters of all different shapes and sizes, both upper and lower case, immediately identifying what it was. It mentioned a date. It mentioned Ben and Bella Foxton and it mentioned Willow Cottage. Normally, his mind would have been on to it, spewing out a convincing lie to placate her and cover his tracks but tonight was not a good night. It was most definitely not a good night at all.

Chapter Twenty

The moment Bella closed the door behind her, having farewelled Kyle, she found herself plagued with mixed emotions concerning his visit. Uppermost in her mind was the worry that he might open a most unpleasant can of worms by digging around to see if he could unearth any facts to substantiate her feelings. Just when she felt that her presence was, perhaps, becoming more accepted, the last thing she needed was Kyle bulldozing his way through people’s sensibilities in order to get to the bottom of a possibly non-existent mystery. Tiredness clouded her thinking and all she wanted to do was sit down, put her feet up and relax. With that thought in mind, she took herself into the old games room which she had converted into a tv lounge and did exactly that. The changes she had made to the room weren’t drastic, mainly comprising the addition of some full length, beige curtains at the windows and an inexpensive but functional lounge suite in a soft, leafy green fabric. A coffee table and standard lamp completed the list. Although the room wouldn’t win an award for its décor it served her purpose adequately. And, if the pale green carpet with its thick, fluffy pile wasn’t exactly to her taste, she had decided to put up with it on the basis that the cost of replacing it didn’t warrant the exercise. Not immediately anyway. Before making herself comfortable she had switched on the television, grabbed the remote from the table then prostrated herself on the sofa. A pang of guilt struck her straight away as she looked at the screen without really watching the programme, recognising the familiar urge to get back to her writing. It was essential to push on now that she had slipped back into the role of a creator of fiction, like having pulled on a familiar, comfortable jersey. From experience she knew that in her case, the process became so much easier if she could dedicate some time, each day, to the continuation of the story. The longer she spent away from the plot the more difficult she found it to pick up the threads, even though the framework and all the components were filed on the computer. Mentally acknowledging the need to make an early start the following day, Bella let her thoughts drift back to Kyle.

Trying to analyse her feelings accurately, imagining that it was Jane questioning her, she had to admit that his visit had generated a strange combination of disappointment and excitement. Yet if Kyle Lucas hadn’t exactly been the man she’d expected him to be then what exactly had she been expecting? Bella turned the television’s sound right down so that she could concentrate on her thoughts, just leaving the picture for company. At the same time, Ubix jumped up on the sofa, making itself comfortable on Bella’s legs.

“I don’t think so!” she exclaimed, lifting it off before the cat could dig its claws into her trousers. “I’ll feed you in a minute, just let me have a bit of a rest.” Stroking Ubix brought forth a loud, appreciative purring as the cat lifted its head to the touch of her hand.

“Well, you made your feelings about Kyle clear enough, didn’t you? If only you could tell me what it is about him you don’t like.” The cat was so loving and responsive to her touch she found it difficult to believe it had ever reacted to Kyle in the way that it had. She had to admit that she’d entertained a slightly romantic notion of Kyle after the way he’d helped her. The tall, handsome stranger who would turn out to be her perfect man. More Barbara Cartland than real life she concluded, with a smile. Long ago she’d realised that there was no such thing as the perfect man especially as she grew older and it became more difficult to find a suitable partner. Age had a way of giving permanence to faults and peculiarities, like insects held in amber, and somehow they became more noticeable. What lust and excitement were prepared to overlook in the formative years, cynicism and experience quickly latched onto in later life. So was it surprising that Kyle wasn’t the perfect man of her dreams? The conclusion came as a kind of relief because she really wanted to like him (Are you desperate, or what? she could hear Jane saying) and her imagination took over as she recalled their embrace. The magic was certainly there between them as the atmosphere had been electric and she had experienced an overwhelming physical desire. It would be easy to let the craving for physical fulfilment cloud her judgement, such