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

Negotiating the last bend Bella was forced to bring the car skidding to a halt, stunned to find a figure standing facing the cottage less than five yards in front of it, his right arm raised. To her utter dismay she was appalled to notice that two of the downstairs windows were broken. The car had hardly stopped, enveloped in a cloud of dust, before she had her door open and was on her feet, running towards him.

“Stop! Stop it at once!” she screamed. “What d’you think you’re doing?” Alfie Flint stood frozen in the pose of a cricketer about to return a ball from the boundary. His left hand was held against his body, cradling a number of large stones there. On the ground, by the wall of the cottage, several more stones lay scattered around where they had hit the wall and rebounded having missed their target. Bella ran up and scooped the stones away from him onto the ground before looking into his face. What she saw there shocked her. A look of such unmitigated hatred made her suddenly fear for her own safety. Was he dangerous, violent even? What did she really know about Alfie Flint and what was he doing here? His eyes were red-rimmed and there were tears running down his pudgy unshaven cheeks. Without warning he crumpled, much as though he was an inflatable doll and someone had opened a valve releasing the air. Alfie sank to his knees, sobbing, and rested his face in his hands.

“I ‘ates this place, Miss. I ‘ate it!” The undisguised violence of the statement was quite frightening. Never before had she heard such a tortured voice and rarely had she felt so woefully inadequate. They made a strange tableau, the two of them, in front of the cottage with the car close by, its engine still running.

Bella banged frantically on the back door of The Lamb, having entered the small garden from the gate in the fence bordering the car park. Where was anybody? Samuel Handysides for one. She banged again, harder this time, and the door flew open to reveal the landlord, his usual calm self-control obviously having deserted him.

“What the ‘ell’s goin’ on?” The look of surprise on his face when he recognised Bella tempered his vexed mood somewhat.

“Miss Foxton! What on earth be you’m doin’ here, at the back door? And why all the ‘ammerin’?”

“It’s Alfie, Samuel…” she exclaimed, visibly distressed.

“You found ‘im!” he interjected, before she was able to say another word. “Where on earth was ‘e?”

“At Willow Cottage.” She told him, breathlessly. “I’d left to come into the village…” Bella paused to try and regain her composure, “…but I had to go back as I’d forgotten something and there he was!” There was a stunned look on Samuel’s face. “He was throwing stones, at the windows would you believe, and he’s broken two of them!” The landlord closed his eyes, briefly, in disbelief.

“Where is ‘e now?” Samuel asked, quietly, with a sigh.

“In my car, in your car park” she replied. “He’s in a bit of a state.” The landlord followed her as she turned away and led him to her car. Alfie was slumped, utterly dejected, in the front passenger seat muttering darkly to himself. His demeanour changed noticeably when he spotted Samuel.

“I didn’t mean no ‘arm!” he cried out, as Bella opened the door but his troubled eyes were fixed firmly on the man at her shoulder. She stood back to let Samuel help him out and her heart went out to Alfie, looking at the sorry state he was in as he emerged. Samuel saw the distraught look on her face, mindful of what had gone on in the room over the saloon bar the night before. Thinking quickly he knew he had to act before things got out of hand.

“Why don’t you come into the parlour, Miss Foxton? I think I might be able to explain.” Bella nodded enthusiastically more concerned about Alfie than anything else right at that minute. Samuel had his arm round Alfie’s waist, supporting him, as they retraced their steps. Waiting at the back door, her hands firmly planted on her hips, was none other than Cora Flint. The frosty look on her face turned to one of pure surprise when she saw Bella.

“Take him upstairs, if you please, Cora.” The look in his eyes told her he’d handle the situation. “I’m just going to have a word with Miss Foxton, ‘ere.” Cora didn’t even acknowledge Bella but held out her hand towards her brother. Alfie, with mournful eyes and contrition written all over his face, bowed his head and grasped her outstretched hand following her through the parlour and out of sight. Samuel turned to Bella, the look on her face indicating that she was still in a state of shock from what she had witnessed. Even so, he admitted to himself, she was still a fine-looking woman.

“’ow’s about I put on a cup o’ tea? What d’you say to that?” He was kindness itself and Bella was grateful for his concern. The parlour, as Samuel called it, was the pub’s kitchen. What caught her eye immediately was the stone floor in a black and white diamond pattern like nothing she had ever seen before. Like the rest of the building the parlour was redolent of another era with its high ceiling and varnished woodwork. She sat at the large, solid wooden table in the centre of the room and looked around while Samuel busied himself making the tea. To her left, against the wall, was an ancient free-standing kitchen cabinet painted a sickly, light green. It stood about six feet tall and over two feet wide and was curved at the top. There were two long, narrow doors to its bottom cupboard, a bureau-style pull-down door in the middle and two smaller doors to the top cabinet each of these containing a panel of engraved glass. All the door handles were