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

fashioned from forged tubular steel about the thickness of a ball-point pen. To Bella’s mind it was one of the most hideous pieces of furniture she had ever seen. There was a work surface either side of the cabinet, with a set of two, boxed-in, shelves above each one, and the landlord was busy at the far one. Behind her, underneath the windows that looked out onto the small garden, was a stone sink, flanked on both sides by a pressed steel work surface. The only time Bella recalled having seen taps like those above the sink was in old black and white movies. Bowing to the demands of progress and, presumably, necessity there was a fairly new-looking fan oven and hob, against the wall to her right. This stood at one end of a working surface beneath long narrow windows set high in the wall. At the other end was a commercial dishwasher. Much to her surprise she noticed a microwave oven tucked away in the corner, seemingly embarrassed to have been caught out in such surroundings.

“There you go!” Samuel placed a floral-patterned china cup and saucer in front of her and she recognised the unmistakable aroma of Earl Grey tea which surprised her. But it had been a day of surprises and she was still finding it difficult to come to terms with what had recently happened. Granted Alfie wasn’t your normal adult male but his behaviour was unbelievable. What on earth had provoked such a reaction? Samuel Handysides had returned with a drink for himself and sat down opposite her. The smile she gave him was cursory, a flicker of emotion that flared and died, an indication that her thoughts were elsewhere searching for an explanation. It was up to him to provide it.

“You missin’ London?” he asked innocently. At first it seemed as though she hadn’t heard his question but then the blank look on her face disappeared as she forced herself to concentrate.

“London?” she repeated, throwing her head back and laughing. “I’ve hardly given it a thought! What makes you ask?” She tried to read what was going on behind the enquiring look in his soft, brown eyes and the kindly smile .

“Some folks’d find it difficult adjustin’ to village life, that’s all.” Bella wasn’t prepared to be sidetracked, however, and said what was on her mind.

“What on earth was Alfie up to, Samuel?” she asked, incredulously. “And how did he get up to the cottage anyway?” The landlord of The Lamb sat back in his chair, seeming to diminish in size as he considered his reply and several seconds passed before he spoke.

“We found Alfie’d gone a couple of hours back,” he began, talking in a small, tired voice as though he were speaking reluctantly. “How long ‘e ‘ad been gone, we weren’t sure…”

“He lives here with you, then?”

“Not all the time. We takes ‘im off Cora’s ‘ands when ‘e gets a bit much for ‘er, every now an’ then.” Bella nodded. “It’s just me an’ Norah, the missus, that runs this place with a bit of part-time help you see. Pub’s been in the family for generations.” She didn’t find that difficult to believe seeing how little it had changed.

“Has he done anything like this before?” Curiosity made her impatient to get some answers.

“Not often, Miss Foxton,” Samuel replied, with a sigh. “And generally we finds ‘im somewhere along the ‘igh street. We either gets a phone call or someone brings ‘im back ‘ere.” Neither of them had touched their tea which was slowly getting cold. The landlord was preoccupied with providing plausible answers to Bella’s questions while she was intent on finding out exactly what was going on.

“So he must have walked across the fields to the cottage, then?” Samuel Handysides gave a small laugh. It was a nasal sound, more like a little snort.

“Don’t be soundin’ so surprised! He might be a bit doolally in the ‘ead but there ain’t nothin’ wrong with ‘is legs.”

“But why Willow Cottage?” Each word was pronounced slowly and emphasised to underline the fact that it was what she couldn’t understand. What she did know, though, was that Alfie’s appearance there was, in some way, related to her own experiences and conclusions. Samuel’s face altered, taking on a more earnest look, as he sat forward in the way of someone about to share a confidence.

“You needs to understand about Alfie, Miss Foxton. To know exactly what happened to ‘im. Maybe then, it’ll all make some kind of sense to you.” There was an openness to his face, a sincerity in his words, that made her want to believe him. “Let me takes you back to the time of ‘is accident.” In anticipation, Bella made herself more comfortable on the chair but she couldn’t get the sight of Alfie’s face, as he stood in front of the cottage, out of her thoughts.

“Willow Cottage were Alfie’s ‘ome, you see,” Samuel began, and Bella raised her eyebrows at the revelation. “Cora’s as well, for that matter. Old man Flint worked for Lord Easterbrook, your uncle. That land out back of the cottage was all part of the estate, at one time.” He looked thoughtful, for a moment “Owned by some American pension fund, I thinks it is, now. Strange old times we be a-livin’ in,” he said, wistfully. Briefly, his eyes took on a sad, distant look, at the memory of times past.

“Anyways,” he went on, dragging his thoughts back to the present, “Old Sid, Sid Flint that is, was a big man and a bit of a tyrant. Between you and me,” he whispered, leaning towards Bella, “there’s a lot of ‘im in Cora. Sometimes I gets a shiver down me back just lookin’ at ‘er, she reminds me of ‘im so.”

“He’s dead then, this Sid Flint?”

“Oh my gosh, yes,” Samuel replied. “Some ten, twelve years back. Collapsed in church in the middle of matins one Sunday. It was just like ‘e’d been shot, Miss Foxton.