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

“Accident,” the landlord replied, curtly. “On the farm, ‘bout ten years ago. Tractor fell on 'im, now his brain’s addled, poor bugger. Take no notice of him miss. Not been bothering you, has he?”

“No,” Bella said, absently, certain that Alfie had been trying to tell her something. “Not at all.”

When she walked out into the car park, her eyes were drawn to the night sky and, looking upwards, she saw the huge array of stars clearly visible in the vast, infinite blackness above her. Unable to recall when she had last seen such a display, it served to remind her of how different things were to London, where she couldn’t even recall the last time she’d looked skywards at night, let alone seen a star. The sheer scale of the universe made her feel miniscule, insignificant, and whether this affected her more deeply than she realised Bella wasn’t sure but, suddenly, she was overcome by loneliness. Tiredness and alcohol didn’t help, she knew, as their combined effect tended to bring the softer side of her to the surface but sharing the rest of the night with someone would have been the perfect end to the day. But then the thought of waking with another person and having her space invaded the next morning, brought her to her senses and she got into the car with a lighter heart. Everything would fall into place, in its own good time, she told herself, knowing that getting into a relationship was the easy part. She had a book to write and that was her first priority. Realising how tired she was, Bella was thankful that the drive back to the cottage only took a short time. Once back inside, she checked that all doors and windows were securely locked then settled into her makeshift bed on the sofa and got herself comfortable. The bedding on the double bed upstairs had felt damp and needed airing.

At some point she had experienced a feeling of mild concern about being alone in the cottage at night, way out in the country, but now she was too weary to care. Sleep came quickly as first she lay thinking about the still of the evening, then the woman in the toilets at The Lamb and, finally, the room at the top of the house where she would write. In its tired state, her mind leapt from one image to another, randomly, before she drifted off. It was not a restful night, however. When in the deepest of sleeps, she imagined herself running through undergrowth, desperately pushing aside leaves and branches in her haste. Then she heard sounds, distant at first, becoming aware of people shouting as they got closer. They kept coming, on and on, getting closer still and she began to run faster, until she could feel her heart thumping as terror took hold of her. It was getting dark, and difficult to see the way, then suddenly she tripped and started to fall, falling down and down but the ground wasn’t there. She just kept plummeting downwards until….Bella woke  with a start, drenched in sweat and unsure of her whereabouts.

She looked at the travelling alarm clock on the table beside her. Its luminous readout announced that it was twelve minutes past three in the morning and she groaned inwardly. Then she remembered where she was. The cottage was silent as the grave as her eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness, for very little light filtered through the heavy lounge curtains. Her breathing was still laboured and she felt exhausted, as though she had been physically involved in the chase she had dreamed about. Bella forced herself to get up as she urgently needed to go to the toilet and also wanted to fetch a glass of water but she was trying to recall her dream in its every detail. It was not a common experience for her to have dreams and she had found it especially unsettling, being in strange surroundings. At last, she came to her senses and grabbed the torch from the table, next to the clock, to help locate the light switch. There was a chill to the atmosphere and she shivered as she climbed the stairs. The dream was bothering her but she knew that being alone, in the middle of the night, wasn’t helping either. Sitting on the toilet, she had the idea of writing down a description of the dream while it was fresh in her memory. Why not? She did it with other experiences. The thought of trying to go straight back to sleep, didn’t appeal greatly, so it would also help to make her tired. A short time later, she had seated herself at the kitchen table, pen in hand, glass of water at her side, and had begun committing her recollections to paper.

Waking up in strange surroundings, tucked into a sleeping bag, took Bella back to her childhood and camping holidays with family and friends in her mother’s beloved Tuscany. Through having been up in the middle of the night it felt like she’d only just got off to sleep and her eyes were tired and scratchy. As she went to turn over, a sharp stabbing pain lanced through her lower back and, in the process of slowly becoming more awake, awareness of the dull ache in her arms took hold. She had slept on the sofa, and grabbed hold of the back of it now to pull herself up into a sitting position. Damage assessment revealed no more suffering than she would have expected from the previous day’s cleaning and knew that a bath or shower would help things considerably. Daylight awaited beyond the curtains although she had no idea yet what time it was as the alarm clock seemed to have disappeared off the table. Outside, the still of the night had been replaced by a chorus of birdsong, something Bella hadn’t woken to for years. Slumping back down, she