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

allowed herself the broadest of smiles before unzipping the sleeping bag and swinging her feet to the floor. The back pain niggled at her and she massaged it gently as she went round pulling the curtains to reveal broad patches of blue sky dappled with clouds, some grey, others white.

Fully awake, at last, hunger transcended her every other need and she shuffled to the kitchen, still dressed in what she had worn to The Lamb, the night before. Rumpled and grubby, looking like she’d just come in from an all-night party, Bella wandered around the kitchen, preparing her breakfast, still wondering whether her dream had any significance. With the bread being toasted and the kettle on the boil, she unlocked the kitchen door and stepped out into the crisp morning air. It was country-fresh and she inhaled deeply, taking in the view of the garden in all its glory. She was no gardener but even she could tell it was out of control and knew she’d have to get someone in to look after it. From her first visit, she’d got a picture in her mind’s eye of how she wanted it to look but it wasn’t something she viewed as a priority. Get it tidied up first, then take another look. Suddenly, Bella gave a shriek and did a little skip backwards as something rubbed against her leg. Looking down she saw the most gorgeous cat. It was not a kitten, being quite large, and it had a healthy-looking coat of short, dark hair. At first she thought it was black but, as she knelt down to stroke it, on closer inspection it turned out to be a deep chocolate brown.

“Hello, beautiful! Where did you come from?”

Wherever she went, the cat followed. Bella, who had never owned a pet in her life, was captivated at first. It sat around in the kitchen, purring contentedly while she had her breakfast, defying Bella’s attempts to shoo it out the door into the garden. She tried ignoring it but when she started folding up her sleeping bag, the cat jumped up onto it, wanting to play. It began to test her patience because she was feeling a little frayed around the edges from her disturbed night. Deciding to go up and have a shower, she grabbed her tote bag from the corner and so did the cat. Prising it off, gently, Bella headed for the stairs and when she looked back, the cat was still sitting in the corner, looking up at her, like an inscrutable stone sculpture. Once under the stinging needle-like jets of the powerful shower, she felt refreshed and for several minutes she stood, motionless, giving herself up to the remedial effect of the water and feeling her body relax. Her thoughts drifted to Ben, wondering what he was doing right at this moment. I’ll be thinking of you, he had said. Was he thinking of her right now? She grinned lasciviously and reached for the soap, starting to wash her arms and shoulders. Closing her eyes she moved her hands down to soap her breasts and gave a sharp intake of breath as they proved to be ultra-sensitive. It was a sure sign her period was due and the pain that came with it. It would explain the headaches, too. She was only thankful it hadn’t happened before the weekend. When she had finished, she turned the water off and opened the door of the cubicle. There right in the middle of the pile of her discarded clothes, sat the cat and she feigned a look of displeasure.

“And who said you could sit there?” The cat, miaowed, seeking attention, as Bella reached for her towel.

“Don’t you have a home somewhere, hm?” She bent down and patted the animal’s head. There was no collar or tag around the cat’s neck. No means whatsoever of identification. Secretly, she was beginning to enjoy its company.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, speaking to it as though it were a young child. “Just let me dry myself and get dressed and we’ll see if we can’t find you a drink of milk. What d’you say to that?” As if it understood, the cat’s purr took on a deep resonance.

In no time at all, this being only her second visit, Bella had come to feel very much at home in the cottage. More and more she was of the opinion that she would like to use it as her base and go back to London when it suited her. The success of her last book had disrupted the normal pattern of her life and, in itself, caused her to think more closely about what she was doing and what direction she wanted her life to take. So, even before the cottage had become a fait accompli, Bella had put her life under the microscope. As she had said to Ben, something wasn’t right. A way of life that she had enjoyed for years was suddenly in question, probably for a number of different reasons, but she knew now that fate had intervened and it was up to her to seize the opportunity. She finished dressing and put her wet hair up in a towel, before going down to the kitchen. Her enthusiasm for finishing off the cleaning had diminished but she knew it had to be done and then she’d like to take a good look around the garden,

“What are you like with a vacuum cleaner?” she asked the cat, hopefully, as she opened the fridge door. The only milk she had was UHT and she wasn’t sure if the cat would like it. Her worries proved superfluous as it despatched the offering rapidly and sat licking its lips before it started on a well-practised cleaning routine. Bella made herself another coffee and began drying her hair, the ache in her muscles beginning to recede and her thoughts turned to how quickly she could set herself up to work from the