Constance and Charles smiled at each other as Ralph strode outside to lay his pipe down in the old ashtray he kept on an old mounting block not far from the kitchen door.
“Obviously a lot on his mind,” commented Charles, watching Constance dishing up the omelette and passing him his plate.
“Help yourself to salad and bread, Charles,” she offered as Ralph re-entered the kitchen.
“How’s young Delia today?” he asked, settling himself into his chair at the head of the table.
“Much the same,” replied Charles dolefully.
“Give her time, Charles. Give her time.”
“That’s what everyone says. But how much time? It’s been a few weeks now and I know you both say you are happy to have her here but I still feel it’s such an imposition.”
“Forget it, Charles. We love her and we will do anything we can to help get her back to her old self, “said Ralph, buttering his bread. “I was hoping to have a game of chess with you this afternoon but I have a couple of young hopefuls who have booked lessons thinking they are the next top show jumpers so I shan’t be free till this evening.”
Charles smiled. “I have plenty to do at Canleigh and I haven’t written a word since …,” he broke off.
“You need to get back to your work, Charles,” said Constance quickly. “Stop worrying about Delia and think about yourself. You’ve had a horrible time lately and you should be kind to yourself. You love writing and you should get back to it. Lose yourself in it as fast as you can. It will do you the world of good.”
Ralph nodded in agreement. He badly wanted to get Delia back on her feet and bring a smile to Charles’s face after what Margaret had done to the family. Charles had never spoken about Margaret’s dalliances but Ralph had guessed and it would have been a miracle anyway if she hadn’t been up to no good with the amount of time she spent away from the estate and gallivanting around the world. It was blatantly obvious she had never loved Charles and was only after what she could get. So Ralph had decided a long time ago to keep his counsel and that if things did go badly wrong he and Constance would just have to be there to help pick up the pieces … and that time was now.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, piling salad on his plate. “Perhaps Star could help.”
“How do you mean?” asked Charles.
“Constance sits Delia by the window every afternoon. If we move Star up to my stables, I can get one of the grooms, or even Philip, when he is back from school, to walk Star by the house. If Delia sees her pony it might just make her want to get on him again.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Charles with a tiny glimmer of hope. “I know we all talk to her about Star but actually seeing him might just jolt her into wanting to get outside and ride. Quite frankly anything is worth a try at this stage.”
“I’m sure it will do Philip good too,” remarked Constance. “He’s lost all interest in riding since Delia arrived. He spends all his free time with her. As soon as he’s washed and dressed in the morning, he takes up her breakfast tray and sits with her until it is time for school. When he comes home he does his homework by her side and stays there until bedtime. He needs to get back out in the fresh air so bringing Star here will help him too if he thinks it will help Delia.”
“I’ll instruct Perkins to bring Star over this afternoon,” said Charles, eager to get their plan into action as fast as possible. “Does Delia talk to Philip at all?” he asked.
Constance shook her head. “It upsets him dreadfully. You know how close those two are.”
“It’s a damned shame,” muttered Ralph bitterly, spearing a lettuce leaf with his fork. “But that girl is young and healthy and a very determined young lady. She’ll bounce back eventually.”
“Yes, once she gets her head around what has happened and learns to forgive herself, she will be fine,” remarked Constance, putting a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. She was quite worried about him. He was looking much older than he was and worry lines had appeared on his brow. She had also seen him biting his bottom lip quite often lately, something he only did when under great stress.
A companionable silence settled on the group as they ate and Charles thought about all the meals he had eaten at this table over the years with his two best friends. Charles and Ralph had both been incarcerated in Colditz Castle during the last days of the war and due to their mutual love of chess, spent quite a bit of time during those long, miserable days trying to beat each other and talking about their love of Yorkshire. At the time Ralph and Constance owned a farm in Lancashire but Ralph, born and bred in a tiny village near Harrogate, hankered to move back to Yorkshire. After the war and Tangles came up for sale, Charles, who had kept in touch with Ralph, sent him the details and within months and with the help of a massive inheritance from an elderly uncle, Ralph, Constance and their sixteen-year old son, Andrew became Canleigh’s new neighbours.
Before the war Ralph had competed at the highest level in the show jumping world and been chosen to represent Great Britain in the Olympics where he had won a bronze medal but afterwards, having no wish, or the energy, to renew the hurly burly of travelling all over the world to continue his career, he turned to teaching others. A disused barn was turned into six luxury en-suite rooms with a large airy lounge, dining room and kitchen. This was followed by an impressive indoor training ring and stable block and it wasn’t too long before ambitious youngsters from far and wide booked themselves and their horses in for four weeks instruction from one of the top show jumpers in the world. Constance cooked and washed for their guests, revelling in looking after them to the best of her ability. The business had proved most lucrative and provided the funds to indulge their other passion of rescuing animals in distress. There were now sheep, goats, cows, dogs, chickens and naturally quite a few horses and ponies who resided in peace at Tangles. All this activity resulted in a need for lots of willing hands and along with the stable staff Ralph employed there were always people popping in to offer their services for the sanctuary. Tangles was a really amazing place with amazing people and Charles and Anne, along with Delia, were frequent visitors.
Charles glanced up at the framed photograph on the wall opposite him. A smiling Andrew Kershaw, his pretty young wife, Shirley, and their new baby were grouped together on the lawn, only hours after young Philip was christened. Charles had been delighted when asked to be one of the baby’s Godfathers. The ceremony was conducted in St. Mary’s with a party afterwards at Tangles. It had been a wonderfully happy day for them all.
Then, just a few short months later, on a cold January evening, Andrew and Shirley had an outing to the cinema in Harrogate and decided to go on Andrew’s treasured motorbike but while they were cosily snuggled up inside the darkness laughing at the antics of the actors and actresses in a crazy comedy, the weather outside turned treacherous. Snow came down, thick and fast, freezing hard as the temperature plummeted and their journey home ended in one final skid across the road straight into the path of an oncoming car. They were catapulted into the air, landing with sickening thuds on the impacted ice. Andrew died instantly. Shirley lingered for another day.
It had been a dreadful shock for Ralph and Constance, eased only by Shirley’s parents agreeing that Philip should remain at Tangles. Charles did what he could to ease the pain, being there when Ralph wanted to talk, cuddling the tiny Philip as Constance busied herself in the kitchen. He was desperate to do anything to keep the hurt at bay. It had been a miserable time for them all but it cemented their friendship to an even deeper level and Charles couldn’t imagine not having them around. They all supported each other. True friends indeed.
Ralph finished his meal and leaned contentedly back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking. Velvet, that mare we took in a while ago and discovered she was in foal … well, Delia did profess a desire to see it born. It won’t be long now so perhaps as well as Star, Philip could also bring Velvet up to the house; pique Delia’s interest again and stir her into wan
ting to see the emergence of the new arrival. She and Philip have also missed two shows and there’s the Great Yorkshire in July. It would be a shame if Delia couldn’t compete. I had high hopes of her this year.”
“Don’t hold out any hope of her being ready for that,” said Constance. “It’s going to take a while longer to get her back on her feet.”
“Don’t be too sure, Constance,” remarked Ralph. “That girl is a fighter and a damned good little rider. With her attitude and my training, she could make the Olympics one day.”
“Philip is pretty good too,” said Charles, having spent considerable amounts of time watching both youngsters being schooled by Ralph.
“Yes, but he hasn’t the killer instinct like Delia. He’s more careful and although keen, he hasn’t the determination or the drive to win, to be the best. Your daughter has enough of that for both of them,” Ralph laughed.
Charles rubbed his eyes painfully. He felt so tired and drained of energy.
Constance noticed his gesture.
“I think you need a bit of a holiday, Charles. Why don’t you get away for a while? You’ve had a dreadful few weeks. Get up to Blairness for a few days. Delia is fine here and I’m sure bringing the ponies up to the house will aid her recovery.”
Charles sighed. “I could certainly do with getting away. It’s all been a dreadful strain … Mother, Delia … Margaret … Rathbones have set the wheels in motion for the divorce but Margaret is holding out for a huge and quite absurd settlement. She wants two million pounds as a lump sum, another two thousand pounds every month for life and Canleigh House, for God’s sake. Says she spent precious time doing the place up, conveniently forgetting it was my money that she was using, and insists she needs somewhere in London to live. If she doesn’t get what she wants she’s threatening to give the press lots of tantalising titbits about her antics with several lovers before Parfitt came on the scene. She’s determined to create an almighty scandal if I don’t comply so it seems I have little choice. have to think of the children and keep all this as low key as possible … for their sakes.”
“Oh, Charles. I’m so sorry,” sympathised Constance. “I can’t believe she can be so vindictive . . . and uncaring of the children. Has she no shame?”
“It seems not. There are pictures in the tabloids every day of her on the beach in skimpy swimsuits with the wonderful Parfitt in tow. The press are buzzing around her. She’s thoroughly enjoying the attention and is making the most of it. She knows I’ll give in eventually. It doesn’t matter much about Canleigh House, to be honest. I never stay there and it was only going to be rented out. She can have it if she wants it; although I will make it a condition she renames it. Once the divorce comes through, she will lose all rights to the Canleigh name.”
“What about the children? Will you allow her to see them?” asked Ralph.
“I really don’t know. The way they all feel about her now … I think we will have to leave it a few months before anything is decided. I’m going to leave it to them though. I know I told Margaret I wouldn’t allow it but I shouldn’t prevent them from seeing their mother if they really want to … that is, if Margaret actually agrees to have any contact with them. Quite frankly from past experience, I would be surprised if she did.”
Ralph shook his head sadly. “Those poor children … having such a mother.”
“I know … and I hate having Richard and Victoria so far away, even though I have been reassured they are both managing to concentrate on their studies and Richard is gleefully enjoying end of year exams, positive he is going to do well. That boy is certainly very bright,” Charles said with pride.
“He works very hard and I’m sure he will make a fantastic surgeon one day,” said Constance, knowing of Richard’s medical ambitions. “But before they come back to Canleigh at the end of term, get yourself away for a nice break. Go and relax somewhere.”
Knowing Constance was right, Charles did as he was told. He had been toying with the idea of buying an Italian villa as he loved Italy so much and dearly wanted to spend more time there. He went straight back to Canleigh and instructed Susan Armitage to search out properties for sale in the Lake Como region. She found two that looked good possibilities with large and plentiful rooms and swimming pools. Flights were booked and on the morning he was due to leave, Charles paid a visit to Delia, wishing fervently she would acknowledge him in some way before he left.
“I’m so sorry you aren’t well enough to join me but I’ll only be gone for a few days. It will be lovely to have a villa of our own in Italy, won’t it, Delia? As you will be better by the summer holidays, we’ll all be able to go over then . . . unless there is somewhere else you would like to go,” he said positively, as much for his benefit as for hers.
He hated these one-sided conversations. He never really knew what to say and found it thoroughly frustrating.
“I’m driving down to London today and staying at the Ritz tonight and then flying at seven o’clock in the morning.”
Delia laid still. Her eyes were closed but flickered now and again indicating she was awake but whether or not she was listening remained a mystery. Charles felt a twinge of annoyance. He had done his absolute best to get through to her. Since that first apology weeks ago he had repeated it every day, hoping upon hope she would say something. Anything … even if she sat up in bed and castigated him for leaving her that day. But no. There was nothing. No smile, no eye contact, no word. Nothing. Simply nothing.
“I do hope you’re feeling better by the time I get back. I know the Kershaw’s will look after you admirably … don’t give them a hard time Delia. They are as worried about you as I am and it would be lovely if you could acknowledge their amazing care and kindness. If you need me at all I shall come back instantly. That goes without saying.”
Yet again, there was no reaction from his daughter and with a sigh Charles kissed her cheek and left the room.
The next day he flew out of Heathrow and from that moment, strangely enough, Delia’s health began to improve. She lay in bed watching the hands of her bedside clock creep round to seven o’clock. As soon as they did, she stretched, got out of bed and walked to the window. The flight had taken off. For a wonderful few days she was free of her father, with his pathetic apologies and what she considered false concern. Her anger at him for abandoning her on that dreadful day … and now, just so he could swan off and enjoy himself in Italy, was intense. She didn’t know if she could ever speak to him again and couldn’t imagine how they were going to rub along when she had to return to Canleigh … because she would have to at some point … but for once in her life, she didn’t want to be at the Hall. She wanted to stay here, safe with the Kershaw’s. What a pity she and Philip weren’t old enough to marry so that she could. How happy she would be then, living here and knowing that as soon as her father died she would have Canleigh, thanks to Richard and the treasured piece of paper hidden in the stables. That time couldn’t come quickly enough.
CHAPTER 11
TANGLES - JUNE 1964
Philip didn’t want to get up and laid in bed, listening to the pigeons cooing outside his window in the branches of the old apple tree. It was a Saturday morning and normally, once their homework was done, any free time was usually a great opportunity for him and Delia to ride virtually all day but since she had been bedridden and wouldn’t talk to anyone, his joy in their favourite pastime had sunk to an all time low. He missed Delly more than she would ever know and so badly wanted her to get better. She was bossy, could be moody, was a slave driver when she wanted anything doing but she was his best friend; made him laugh, awed him with her recklessness in the saddle and most of all she loved him. Nothing had been said but he knew she planned for them to marry when they were old enough. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Thankfully that time was still a long way off and anything could happen before then. He wouldn’t worry about it now.
Hearing the clink of china in the kitchen, Philip stirred himself. Gran
was so busy and the least he could do was help her by taking up Delia’s breakfast tray.
“Morning, young man,” smiled Constance when he entered the kitchen still dressed in his dressing gown and slippers.
“Morning, Gran.”
“It’s going to be a lovely day today,” Constance said, looking out of the window. “Perhaps you could parade Star and Velvet under Delia’s window again, once I get her out of bed.”
Philip took the tray his grandmother handed him with its cornflakes, boiled eggs, buttered bread and orange juice. “Of course I will. I bet Star wonders what on earth is going on, not having seen Delly for such a while.”
“Verity must be wondering the same about you. You’ve hardly been on her back for weeks.”
“I know but I’m not keen on riding on my own. It’s just not the same without Delly.”
He walked upstairs with the tray despondently, wishing Delia would hurry up and recover. He felt very lonely without her. He had other friends, those he went to school with and some from the Pony Club but it was always Delly whose company he most enjoyed, right from when they were tiny children and he was taken to play in the nursery at the Hall. While Richard pored over books and Vicky played with her dolls, Philip and Delly fought over who was going to ride the rocking horse first. Delly always won of course but generous in her victories, let him ride after her and then gave him her ice cream at the nursery tea.
The pair grew close with their love of horses. Perkins taught Delia to ride but once she was proficient and could ride by herself down to Tangles, down to Tangles she would come. She loved being here with all the animals, adored Ralph and Constance and loved Philip. She was always saying that next to Canleigh, it was the best place on earth and any time she could spend here was a real bonus. However, none of them had expected her to languish in a bedroom at Tangles for so long.
Philip knocked and pushed open her bedroom door, carefully balancing the tray but nearly dropping it when he entered the room.
Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) Page 17