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

She was not afraid of hard work and took to the task willingly, with the result that after nearly four hours she was finally satisfied with what she had achieved but more than a little tired from her exertions. The kitchen sparkled, and a not unpleasant smell of furniture polish paid testament to her endeavours in the lounge and dining area. Upstairs, all the bedroom furniture had been dusted and polished and all the bathroom amenities gleamed as a result of Bella’s efforts. All that remained to be done was to take the vacuum cleaner to the carpets to finish the job but that could wait until the following day. She flopped into an armchair, feeling quite exhausted, unable to remember when she had last done such physical work. Although there was a shower in the bathroom what she really fancied now was a bath but not before she had had a glass of wine, so she struggled up from the chair and made her way out to the kitchen. As she poured the wine, Bella reflected on how suddenly her life had changed in the past two weeks. How could she ever have believed, such a short time ago, that she would be standing here, in the kitchen of her own country retreat? It was like something out of a fairy tale. Even the cleaning had given her a sense of satisfaction, yet anyone who knew her well would hardly have recognised her. Anything less feminine, less de rigeur than yellow Marigold gloves and an improvised turban, she couldn’t imagine, but seldom had she felt as happy as she did right at this moment. The wine helped, of course, and it had gone straight to her head, and she knew she ought to eat something. Also, she longed to take a look in the garden but knew that if she didn’t run a bath, right now, she’d probably be too tired as the evening progressed.

Two hours later, it was beginning to get dark outside. The wind had died away to a gentle breeze and the skies had cleared to the extent that a hint of salmon pink amongst the milky grey of the clouds foreshadowed the setting of the sun. As she sat curled on the sofa, reading a book, with her feet tucked beneath her, Bella shivered, involuntarily. The residual warmth from the bath had slowly dissipated and although she'd turned the water heating on earlier she'd forgotten about the central heating. She made a mental note, there and then, to leave the thermostat on low, when she left to go back to London. It was time to draw the curtains and shut out the approaching night but Bella was feeling restless. Being alone in the cottage didn’t concern her but she was filled with a sense of freedom and wanted to celebrate the fact. Also, she was still hungry and knew she would have to go out and find something to eat. Earlier she had made a couple of toasted sandwiches which she’d eaten along with some fruit and a muesli bar but it wasn’t enough. Not after all the work she’d done. The nearest option as far as food was concerned was The Lamb and the thought of going back there didn’t really worry her. She had arrived now. She had become a local, even if it was by proxy. If not exactly one of them she was certainly going to become a member of their community and they would have to get used to her, like it or not. And, of course, she would have to get used to them. Perhaps it was a good time to start.

Chapter Six

The effect of the silence was overpowering as Bella stood on the doorstep and listened. After the daily diet of traffic noise, stereos and overhead aircraft, in London, the confrontation with peace and quiet was sublimely blissful. It was food for her soul, like a painting by an Old Master, except that nature was the artist behind this creation. Taking great care, she closed the front door behind her, turning the key in the deadlock. She found herself moving on tiptoe, unwilling to disturb the serenity of the evening, as she walked to her car and, once inside, hesitant about starting the engine and shattering the stillness. Gently, she wound the window down, and a damp, woody aroma filled the car. But this was not one of life’s fleeting, magical moments, to be savoured and forgotten, she reminded herself. This was the key to her legacy, the very reason for her being here. A place of calm and quiet, with the minimum of distractions to take her mind away from her work.

“Thank you, Rupert.” She breathed the words softly into the still night air, as she reached for the ignition key. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

The atmosphere inside the saloon bar of The Lamb contrasted starkly with the scene that Bella had left behind just minutes ago. Strangely though, she felt an odd sort of oneness with the regulars now that she was a little more familiar with the cottage. Dressed down, as she was, she didn’t stand out quite as glaringly as had been the case on her first visit and, although heads turned as she entered, the feeling of resentment, whether it had been real or perceived, was not apparent. Samuel Handysides was pulling a pint for a customer as she came to the bar.

“Miss Foxton,” he said, acknowledging her with a friendly nod. She loved the burr to his speech, which accentuated and elongated the first syllable, making it sound more like Faarxton. “By yourself tonight?” She raised her eyebrows and nodded, in response to his question, as he passed the filled pint glass to a tall solid-looking man she estimated to be in his late-fifties. Wearing a rumpled grey suit which had seen better days, his face bore the signs of