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

in hindsight, it might not have been a bad thing.” Nothing in the look on his face gave any indication of what was on his mind.

“What makes you say that?” she asked, a little warily. There was a moment’s delay before he answered, as Ben chose his words carefully, and Bella experienced the most odd sensation. It was as if the world was standing still, waiting for his reply, although she could hear the sound of cars coming and going from the pub’s car park in the background and the cries of the gulls overhead.

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, as I certainly would have done if that group hadn’t have come along.” He spoke quietly and in earnest, adding sincerity to his words. “You might have that impression anyway, I don’t know.” She went to speak but he held up a hand. “I’ve no experience of this sort of thing and I very nearly made a fool of myself, back there.” Her face softened and she reached across the table to take his hand.

“ You’re so beautiful, Bella, and I don’t deny I want you,” he looked up, into her eyes, holding her gaze to demonstrate how sincere he was. It had never failed him, in the past. “I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you these past weeks, that’s why I had to come down and see you, whatever the risk. Laura included!” She smiled at him with her eyes. “And I’ve been thinking about many other things besides,” he continued. “My life. My future. My family. My marriage.” Heavy emphasis was placed on the last item on the list and Bella’s back stiffened, in shock, as she sensed what he was about to say. He squeezed her hand before he took the irrevocable step.

“Are you going to say what I think you’re going to say?” His gaze didn’t waver as he replied to her question.

“If Tina and I were to split up…” he hesitated to give the words full effect. ‘Do you think there’s any possibility of you and I having any sort of a permanent relationship?”

Chapter Eleven

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Ben provided an interesting diversion for Laura’s fertile imagination, offering another means of putting a spoke into the lucky wheel of fortune that always seemed to stop in all the right places for her sister. Laura’s jealousy of Bella had been meticulously nurtured into hatred, fuelled again in more recent years by Bella’s success, as she had watched the fledgling author’s career take off then go supersonic when Lingering Doubts had hit the afterburner.  All through her life she had had to play second fiddle to the girl who seemed to have the Midas touch in every aspect of her life and the cottage was the final straw. The seeds of her jealousy were handed down at birth in the form of a genetic imprint, ready to sprout when needed, as part of the natural development of her personality. This side of her character first surfaced with her parents, playing one off against the other, then her sister came along, tailor-made as prey for Laura’s ravenous green-eyed monster. Bella had tried her hardest to please her older sister in so many ways when they were young but it was a labour that would have defeated Hercules himself. But something more sinister, more consuming even, drove Laura’s repugnance of her sister. It was Bella, and Bella alone, that she held responsible for her father’s death. The father that she had loved so dearly. When Rupert had tried to act as surrogate for Patrick, with the best of intentions, Laura had treated him with a suspicion which, with the passing of the years, had grown into deep resentment.

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Although there were signs in the distance that the weather was improving, the rain was still falling heavily and Laura didn’t feel inclined to leave the car. Having made her way to the village, her mind full of the implications of the solicitor’s arrival at the cottage, she wanted somewhere where she could sit and think. The car park in front of the church, only big enough to accommodate half a dozen cars, was empty and Laura had pulled up and parked under the huge chestnut tree. Against her sister’s wishes she had wanted to see the cottage, anxious to discover exactly how well Bella had profited from her close relationship with Rupert. Well, now she knew and it sickened her. She was the elder of the sisters and, if anyone should have had the cottage, it should have been her. All she’d got she reminded herself, was that fucking necklace, which she couldn’t even hock off, which had been her plan. Rupert had even thwarted that, the old bastard. Was there any way open to her, she wondered, whereby she could lay her hands on the cottage? Any means, legal or otherwise, because she’d just love to see the look on Bella’s face when she threw her out. Her thoughts returned to the solicitor and the significance of his visit. How timely for her to have been there and found out what was going on. Well, she’d stir things up there alright. His was no business call, you could tell by the way they looked at each other. What was his name again? Holdsworth? Hollingsworth! That was it. She’d got the letter about the will at home somewhere so it shouldn’t be too difficult to find out where he lived. Oh, I’m going to enjoy this. I think I’ll start my little game when I get back to the cottage. Slowly, the shape of her mouth changed assuming the hint of a grin but it was totally lacking in humour, motivated instead by the inviting prospect of causing trouble.

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When the rain eventually stopped about fifteen minutes later Laura drove out of the car park and along to the village green, which she circumnavigated in order to head back the way she had come.

“Who’d want to live in this fucking