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

more as compensation.” She climbed out of the bath and reached for a towel. “For my silence,” she added. Ben hung his head, suddenly feeling very old and bone weary. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? Like a house of cards the elements of his life were delicately balanced and could come crashing down round his ears if his criminal activities were exposed. She had the nerve to get away with it but he would, he knew, be ruined.

“You don’t think for one moment that I can lay my hands on that amount of cash?”

“I don’t care how you get it, quite frankly. But you will.” Having dried herself, she discarded the towel and began to rub moisturiser into her stomach and breasts. To his horror Ben found himself getting excited again.

“The thought of so much money turn you on, eh, Ben?” Deliberately, Barbara gently massaged the smooth, creamy lotion into the soft flesh of her inner thighs, not taking her eyes off him.

“You bitch!” he exploded, standing up quickly. “How long have you been planning this?” She smiled enticingly as her fingers inched a little higher.

“Don’t blame me, darling!” Her voice was silky smooth. “You started it. You and your taking ways. I’m just following your example.” Closing her eyes she began to sway to a gentle inner rhythm.

“You’re disgusting, do you know that?” he snarled, and her eyes flew open, gleaming wickedly.

“I’m sure that’s just what your wife would think about you if she found about tonight’s little activities!” All the pigeons were coming home to roost now and his despair seem to shrink him as he stood before her. In a soothing voice, much as a mother would speak to a naughty child, she addressed him.”

“Why don’t you get yourself dressed Ben then come into the lounge. I’ve got something for you, before you go.”

After she had gone from the room, he was left with an overwhelming sense of guilt and self-pity and dressed himself in a trance-like state. Exhausted by the evening’s sexual gymnastics, the spectre of blackmail was too much to cope with and it was far simpler to cloak himself in remorse as some sort of protection.. For the first time, and solely because of Barbara’s threat, the execrable nature of his infidelities and the plundering of the firm’s accounts weighed heavily upon him. With leaden steps he entered the lounge, consoling himself with the fact that his life had hit rock bottom. At least things couldn’t get any worse.

“Ah, Ben, there you are!” The soothing voice again. She patted the sofa. “Come here and sit next to me.” Robot-like he did as he was told. Barbara pressed the remote control she was holding and the television fizzed into life, revealing a screen which showed a clear blue background. Ben frowned, turning towards her but she put a finger to her lips, motioning him to silence.

“Just watch!” Obeying instructions once more he directed his attention to the screen as a brief spell of interference replaced the background colour and, finally a picture became clear. Barbara wasn’t paying attention to the screen but studied Ben’s face instead as he watched a replay of earlier events. Himself in the bath then the arrival of the two women in the doorway. A thrill ran through her as she saw him go pale, shocked at the realisation that the evening’s frolics had been captured on camera.

“And I didn’t have to do a thing,” she confessed, patting his knee and obviously pleased with herself. “It’s all part of the security system. All I had to do was to make sure that we kept in range of the camera.” Arranging her sweetest smile for him, she added, “So you are going to be a good boy and do as you’re told, I take it?” Without warning Ben got up from the sofa. Whatever else might happen to him in the future, all he knew now was that he had an overpowering urge to throw up.

He had rushed from the apartment after being sick without confronting Barbara again and found himself in tears as he tried to remember where he had parked the car. As he walked the streets he was talking to himself, cursing himself, his stupidity and Barbara Richmond, in a loud voice. Somehow he managed to stumble on the street where he had left the BMW anxious now to put as much distance between that woman and himself. With relief he spotted the car and hurried towards it but something caught his eye. Was it a trick of the light, he wondered, brushing tears away with the back of his hand as he got closer. Anger and disbelief flooded through him as he saw the ravaged paintwork. It looked like someone had thrown acid over the bonnet and roof. His world came to a complete standstill and, in that fleeting moment, he thought he might as well go and throw himself under a bus. Then the ability to think deserted him completely and he could only stand and stare helplessly at the car. The wanton desecration of mindless vandalism was the last straw and he eventually shuffled towards the vehicle wanting to get home, get to bed and shut the world out. Or maybe get drunk. How he had made it home in his dazed and exhausted state he couldn’t remember. But neither could he remember ever having felt so pleased to be back. A quick glance at the car’s clock told him that it was approaching 10.30pm. With luck, Tina would be in bed and he could have a couple of glasses of scotch before going up. With the way things had been going that evening he should have known better. She was in the kitchen, fussing around, when he walked in  and immediately he sensed that the atmosphere was not one of harmonious domestic bliss and his heart gave a lurch.

“Enjoy your evening, dear?” In the way of the guilty, he wondered how she