“Good. I’ll have to put the phone down now. My head has never been so bad. I’ll see you in the morning … and don’t drink too much. You don’t want a hangover tomorrow when all the family are here.”
“No, Delia. Of course not. See you tomorrow,” said Philip, swallowing hard and wondering why he didn’t just tell her to go to hell. He was a grown man and if he wanted to drink too much he damned well would.
* * *
Sue Cartwright, proprietor of ‘The Tack Shop’ in Harrogate, drove her smart new white van towards Tangles, butterflies in her tummy because she was about to see Philip Kershaw.
“He’s out of bounds,” she muttered, turning off the Harrogate road and up the track leading to the Tudor mansion. “He’s getting married in two weeks’ time. For goodness sake girl, get a grip. He’s not for you. He belongs to the high and mighty Lady Delia Canleigh.”
God, how she detested Delia, a snobby, self-indulgent cow, and who, from what Sue could see, had everything. She was the daughter of a wealthy Duke, lived in a splendid Georgian mansion, had time and money to do as she wanted, owned expensive horses and worst of all, was engaged to Philip Kershaw, whom Sue had adored from way back in their childhood when they sat next to each other at the village primary school. Sue had loved him then and it had never changed, and if anything, her feelings grew deeper over the years but although Philip was warm and friendly towards her it was always Delia Canleigh for him and in a very short while he would tie that knot forever. Damn, damn, damn!
Tangles looked more spectacular than ever this afternoon, thought Sue as she turned up the drive, resenting Delia’s right to it all. It wasn’t fair and she wanted to cry. Philip was such a lovely man and Delia simply wasn’t right for him. She was too … Sue tried to think of the right words and all she could come up with was tyrannical … yes. That was perfect. Delia was quick-tempered, haughty, a complete snob and in general, not very nice … and tyrannical. That summed her up well.
But perhaps that was just her perspective. Delia was well respected in the village and received much sympathy and understanding. Everyone made excuses for any misdemeanours due to her having had a nervous breakdown after her mother left Canleigh in such a dramatic way and the Dowager died. ‘Poor Lady Delia’ was often voiced in the village shop, post office or the garage. To lose her mother in such scandalous circumstances and then her Granny, whom she adored and was her rock in all things, was a terrible blow for such a young girl but now she was finally marrying young Philip Kershaw, whom everyone liked, they were delighted and hoped the marriage would give Delia the stability and happiness she deserved. All the villagers were invited to the wedding and were eagerly looking forward to the celebrations. Sue, although having her business in Harrogate, still lived in the village with her elderly mother so had also received her invitation but watching Philip marrying that woman was going to tear her apart. She was absolutely dreading it and had no idea how she was going to get through the day.
Sue knew Delia would destroy Philip in time and didn’t know what to do about it. What could she do? He had never looked at her, not in that way at least. He visited Sue’s shop every time he was in town and was always willing to have a long chat over a cup of coffee and feeling unusually bold, Sue tried flirting with him on the odd occasion but he never flirted back and on leaving the shop just left her feeling deflated and stupid.
Sue stopped her van at the back door of Tangles and gave herself another talking to. She would really have to get over this passion. In two short weeks, Philip would be out of her reach forever and she just had to face it. She would also have to stop bringing out his orders and would have to get a member of staff to do it. Bumping into the new Mrs. Kershaw more often than was necessary would not do her any good.
Philip had ordered two head collars earlier in the week and Sue removed them from the van, crossed the shingle drive and banged hard on Philip’s back door. He wasn’t always in and sometimes she had to drive down to the stables to find him but he was at home and when he opened the door, it took all her strength not to fling her arms around him and beg him not to marry Delia. Instead, she smiled and held out the head collars.
“Your order,” she said simply.
Philip smiled warmly, relieved to see a friendly face.
“Sue! How nice. I was just making a pot of tea. Care to join me?”
Sue wished she wasn’t in such a rush and would have to miss this opportunity to have him all to herself, even if it was for a short while. Her face flushed uncontrollably and she could have kicked herself for
adding extra blusher to her cheeks before she journeyed out to Tangles. She must look like a clown.
“I’m so sorry. I’d love to but I have to get back … my assistant has to get off to the hospital to see her husband who has had his appendix removed and I promised I’d be back in about half an hour.”
Philip’s face fell. He liked Sue immensely and although he couldn’t burden her with his problems, she was easy to talk to.
Sue noticed his expression and wondered why a man about to get married looked so worried.
“Will you and Lady Delia be going to Jim’s party tonight?” she asked, struggling to find something to say as Philip accompanied her back to her van, holding open the door for her.
“Delia isn’t … she has a migraine … she’s just rung,” he added, admiring Sue’s head of shining blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders, gleaming in the strong sunshine. He felt like putting out a hand and stroking it. Whatever was the matter with him?
“Will you still go?” Sue asked, sinking gracefully into the driving seat, heart thumping wildly as she was going to the party and the spark of excitement at the thought of being in the same room with him for a whole evening without his fiancé was a tantalising prospect.
Philip smiled and shut the van door. The window was open so they could converse easily.
“I have to. Jim’s my best man, as well as my best friend. I can’t let him down.”
Sue took a deep breath and smiled widely. “Good. I’ll be able to claim a dance then.”
Philip looked down at her lovely face, perhaps slightly too plump but pleasantly so. She had grey green eyes, a neat little nose and a very kissable mouth. Her figure was good, well rounded, but not fat and that head of hair was awesome. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed before. Sue was really quite stunning, and she was nice …. very nice indeed … and so easy and relaxing to be with.
“Yes, Sue. You will. I’ll look forward to it,” he said.
Their eyes locked for a brief second, sending shock waves through both of them. In a complete flap, Sue started the van and headed for the road, her mind racing, heart going crazy and half an hour later, had no idea how she had managed to reach Harrogate safely as she certainly hadn’t been concentrating on her driving.
Meanwhile, Philip, having watched the white van disappear down the drive, felt a deep sense of excitement in the pit of his stomach and began to wonder if he was wise to go to Jim’s party after all.
CHAPTER 13
CANLEIGH, YORKSHIRE – MAY 1972
Delia lay on her bed and groaned, not with the pain, which was receding with the help of painkillers and the cold compress Mrs. Hardy had thoughtfully supplied, but because Vicky had arrived earlier than expected. It was highly irritating as the plan was for the Canleigh family to arrive en masse tomorrow and the thought of having to make small talk with her silly younger sister was not how Delia wanted to spend her evening. They had little liking for each other and without a third person present, the conversation would be a real strain.
Apart from the wedding, there was nothing to talk about as their lives and tastes had run along different lines. They hadn’t attended the same schools. Delia was mad about Canleigh, horses and the countryside and oozed confidence. Vicky, shy and anxious as a young child was terrified of horses. Delia vividly remembered witnessing Vicky’s stupid screaming fit when she had her first riding lesson and had little patience
with her younger sister from that day on. However, Vicky had changed somewhat since recovering from what Delia considered a somewhat ridiculous eating disorder. Being a most attractive young woman with a title and seen frequently in London, at the theatre watching ballet or listening to opera, wearing the latest fashions and driving fast cars, naturally courted the attentions of the press and she appeared frequently in the tabloids. Out of all of the three siblings Vicky seemed prone to be most like their mother, apart from there being, as far as Delia was aware, a distinct lack of men in her life. Vicky was often pictured spilling out of various noisy venues in Oxford or London with a crowd of other silly girls and sometimes Delia had wondered if perhaps her younger sister preferred the company of the same sex, although according to Richard, Vicky actually did have a boyfriend now, whom he didn’t consider a particularly good catch.
Delia clenched her teeth and winced as an almighty sneeze erupted, followed by a violent coughing fit and she could have screamed as a piercing pain shot through her head. Gingerly she sat up, blew her nose, shot a couple more migraine tablets into her mouth, drank a glass of water, and cursed loudly.
“Bugger, bugger, bugger,” she hissed. “Please don’t tell me I have a cold as well as a damned migraine.”
Prone to migraines for a couple of years after the loss of Granny, put down to stress by the ageing Dr. Arnold, they had disappeared after Delia, at the age of eighteen, was allowed to live at Canleigh on her own while her father resided at Blairness. This was the first attack for a very long time but no doubt it was caused by the tension she was feeling with the forthcoming wedding and, of course, the whole family descending on Canleigh at once. She began to think her idea of a get-together before the wedding wasn’t such a good one. At least Vicky and Richard were only here this weekend but Father was going to be in situ for the whole fortnight leading up to the ceremony. It was a long time since they were residing in the same building and being pleasant to him for two whole weeks was going to be exhausting. Delia had planned and arranged the whole wedding but he still felt he should actually be in residence for the last stages, especially as he was paying for the whole shindig and she hoped he wasn’t going to question any of her decisions.
The only good thing about this migraine was it meant she had a great excuse for not attending that dratted birthday party in the village this evening. Delia dreaded such gatherings, playing the Lady of the Manor, a role in which she excelled but which could pall after an hour or two.
She glanced at the bedside clock. It was only five thirty. She rolled over, clamping the compress to her head and closed her eyes. She was going nowhere and wanted to speak to no-one for at least a couple of hours.
* * *
Philip hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sue since she pulled out of his drive and panic and excitement engulfed him at the thought of the evening ahead. He fervently wished Delia was going. He had a funny feeling that to go on his own would be asking for trouble but what could he do? He had to go. Jim was expecting him and he couldn’t let him down now.
Philip banged around in the vast kitchen, throwing a spaghetti Bolognese together. Cooking was a pleasure to him. Granny had insisted he learn to look after himself as she didn’t believe in the male species being entirely useless in the kitchen. She had taught him the basics but he liked experimenting with herbs and spices, different cuts of meat and varieties of fish and often cooked up some scrummy meals when he had the time. He wasn’t that hungry tonight but knew it was important to eat something if he was going to have a pint or two … and that’s all it would be, he promised himself. He would make an appearance in the village hall for perhaps an hour, if he could get away with it, hopefully avoiding talking or dancing with Sue. It could probably be managed fairly easily as he knew everyone who was going so could make sure he was engrossed in conversation with anyone and everyone to avoid her. Then he could return home and tuck up in bed with a good book. He could do with an early night. He’d been working extremely hard lately as two stable hands were off sick with some kind of flu virus and he hoped they would all be back to full health before the wedding. Delia and he had planned a two-week honeymoon in the Seychelles but if the girls weren’t better, he would be reluctant to leave his business for any length of time.
The meal was good and he felt calmer once he had eaten. He dashed upstairs for a shower, wondering how he was going to cope, sharing the house with Delia on a permanent basis. She was terrifically neat and tidy whereas he tended to leave a room as if a storm had erupted, although she didn’t seem to mind. At least nothing was said but when she was at Tangles, they were either down at the stables, out with the horses or active in bed, and although she kept a change of clothes in his wardrobe, hadn’t actually moved in yet with all her luggage.
He squared his shoulders and thought about Delia as a permanent fixture. He had lived with the knowledge that it was going to happen for years but now the time was virtually here, alarm bells were ringing loudly. Life wouldn’t be dull with Delia but would certainly be a challenge. He did love her and he knew she idolised him but she wasn’t the easiest person in the world to be with, that was for sure.
Philip examined himself in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. He scrubbed up well and felt better now he had on clean blue jeans and a pale blue shirt, freshly ironed that day by Molly. He looked assured and in control but inwardly matters weren’t quite that simple. His feelings were in turmoil. If Delia was with him tonight, he wouldn’t have to be concerned with this niggling feeling about Sue. His hand hovered over the telephone recently installed in the bedroom. Perhaps he should ring her. She might be feeling better. His hand went back to his side. Once Delia made up her mind it was impossible to change it and he knew her migraine must be severe or she would definitely be going with him. It was an extremely rare occurrence for them to be attending a social event without the other and perhaps he should just make the most of his unexpected freedom.
He looked around the room. Just a hint of excitement rushed through him as he quickly tidied up, putting his dirty clothes in the bin and making the bed. Why was he doing that? Nobody bar him would be seeing it later.
* * *
Delia awoke, relieved to discover she felt slightly better. There was now just a dull ache in her head and the nausea had disappeared. It was seven thirty and she was beginning to feel hungry, having eaten very little all day due to the migraine. A bit of exercise and fresh air wouldn’t do any harm either. She got out of bed, had a quick wash and cleaned her teeth in her bathroom and then pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. Dinner was normally served at this time but she didn’t want anything substantial and anyway, Vicky would be in the dining room and she really didn’t want to join her. She would sneak down to the kitchen, have some cereal and get out of the house for a while via the kitchen door. She didn’t feel well enough to ride but a walk down to the lake might be a good idea. It had started to rain but her Barbour would keep her dry.
Her luck wasn’t in. Having descended the main stairs and turning to go down to the kitchen, she was startled by the front door being thrown open. A dishevelled Vicky burst into the entrance hall, shaking her wet hair and virtually catapulting into Delia.
“Oh, hi,” Vicky giggled, coming to a grinding halt. “Sorry … didn’t mean to bowl you over but I just went out to lock the car and it started to pour with rain … goodness knows why … it raining I mean, not why I locked the car … although I don’t really know why I should here … habit, I suppose … living in a big city … not like here … all quiet and no crime.”
“Oh, for goodness sake,” snapped Delia. “Do stop going on. Your prattle is beginning to make my head ache again.”
Vicky gulped nervously and planted a kiss on Delia’s cheek. “Sorry … didn’t mean to.”
She pointed a hand out of the window. “What do you think? Brilliant little car … got me up here in no time.”
Delia walked over to the window and glanced out at Vicky’s prized p
ossession. It obviously gave Vicky a real thrill but wasn’t a match for Delia’s beautiful silver Jaguar E type with its long bonnet and powerful four-litre engine, parked down in the garages in the stable block and which Vicky hadn’t seen yet. Two weeks ago, Delia and Richard had celebrated their twenty-first birthday and inherited a million pounds each from darling Granny. Vicky, being only nineteen, had two more years to wait for hers. As it was becoming a real pain to drive off the estate now that the battered old Landrover and the shooting break were so ancient it was illegal to take them on the road and father had the Rolls with him, Delia had decided to treat herself. She had always hankered after a Ferrari but Philip had been aghast about spending so much money on a car but one day she would have one. She would just have to work on him a little harder.
“It’s okay, I suppose,” she said, lacking enthusiasm.
Delia looked at her sister appraisingly. Vicky was still too thin. She was wearing jeans so her legs weren’t visible but the short-sleeved t-shirt revealed skinny arms and no bust to speak of. However, she looked far better than the scarecrow who crept around Canleigh two Christmases ago. Her eyes sparkled, her creamy skin was clear of blemishes and her short dark hair shone with health. She would look good in her bridesmaid dress.
“You look well, considering,” remarked Delia starchy. “Have you had anything to eat?”
Vicky shook her head, hating the inevitable questions about food. “I didn’t want dinner so Hardy is bringing up some sandwiches and coffee to the library.”
“Right,” said Delia, resigning herself to having to spend some time with her sister after all. “I’ll ring down and tell him I’ll join you. I don’t want much either.” She turned regally, leaving Vicky to follow her into the library.
Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) Page 21