Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama)

by Carole Williams

  Coffee and liqueurs were served in the library, Ruth trying hard to stifle a yawn. She was tired too. It had been a long journey up to Yorkshire and the strain of meeting Richard’s family was beginning to tell and she was really looking forward to the moment when she could crawl into that lovely comfy bed upstairs and drift off into a dreamless sleep.

  “Tired?” asked Richard, sitting down beside her on the sofa to the right of the fireplace where they had a reasonably good view of the lake through the French windows.

  Ruth smiled at Richard. “Just a bit.”

  “That’s a shame. I was hoping to take you on a stroll down to the lake … it’s splendid on an evening such as this,” said Richard.

  “It sounds delightful but would you mind terribly if we did it tomorrow evening instead?”

  Richard nodded, surprised he felt so disappointed and vaguely wondered if his father had suggested it whether or not Ruth would have made the effort and gone with him. It was an intriguing thought.

  Charles had walked over to his desk and was idly flicking through his latest chapter, intending to ask Richard to read it. Charles respected his opinion on anything he wrote. Richard was good at constructive criticism. Vicky and Barrie sat holding hands on the sofa opposite Richard and Ruth and Delia was standing looking out of the windows, staring in the direction of Tangles, deep in thought, a glass of Drambuie in her hand. That would mix well with the wine, Charles thought critically. He would talk to her tonight after all. She was obviously suffering dreadfully and he felt deeply sorry for her. She would be lost without Philip. They had been so close for so many years. During the telephone conversation with Philip earlier, the young man had been somewhat reticent to tell Charles why he and Delia had split but eventually Charles had managed to wheedle out of him that there was another woman. Charles couldn’t imagine how that must have affected Delia. She must be utterly devastated. No. He couldn’t leave it until the morning. His child was hurting badly and although their relationship wasn’t of the best, he had to see what he could do to ease her pain.

  Delia suddenly turned from the window, grabbed the brandy decanter, poured a liberal amount into her glass and then neatly sandwiched herself on the sofa next to Barrie, ignoring the annoyed look Vicky threw her from Barrie’s other side.

  Charles cleared his throat, desperately wanting to break the tension but not quite knowing how to.

  “Richard is right, Victoria. It’s a beautiful evening. Why don’t you take Barrie for a stroll?”

  “God, how boring,” growled Delia, knocking back the Courvoisier in one go. “I fancy something far more exciting … how about a good gallop over the fields to clear the cobwebs, Barrie? I’m sure you can ride … and ride well,” she said, rubbing her hand up and down his leg suggestively, eyes sparkling wickedly and a twisted smile on her lips. “I’m sure you would find the experience thrilling … especially with me to monitor your every move.”

  “Barrie’s going nowhere … and anyway he doesn’t like horses much, do you Barrie?” said Vicky icily. It was rare she got angry but her blood was boiling now. How dare her sister muscle in … and so blatantly. It was absolutely shameful and embarrassing.

  “You don’t know what you will be missing,” murmured Delia, gazing up at Barrie adoringly, totally ignoring her younger sister.

  Richard was appalled and watched with disquiet as the already unsettled evening was threatening to become a complete disaster. The last thing Vicky needed was a massive blow to her confidence and self-esteem. She had recovered well from the anorexia but stress could easily set it off again and then there was Father. Charles, with his heart condition, had to be careful and watch his blood pressure and it was definitely rising now. He looked positively thunderous and about to explode at any moment.

  Richard stood up and moved to Delia’s side. “Why don’t you go to bed? Come on. I’ll come up with you, tuck you up … even read you a story,” he joked. “Just as I used to when we were kids … remember?”

  “I’m going for a ride. Demon and I are going to gallop off into your precious sunset,” she replied, angrily wiping away a tear before it ran down her face, remembering all the beautiful evenings she and Philip had ridden out together to sit at the south gates and watch the sun sink slowly. Who would do that with her now?

  Ruth was moved to pity by the anguish in Delia’s face. It must have been a harrowing experience, being jilted, especially just before the wedding and simply galling to have to pretend to be okay when her heart must be breaking. No wonder Delia was behaving badly. To have suddenly become all alone after being one of a pair for so long must be incredibly difficult. With a sudden rush of sympathy, Ruth knelt down beside her.

  “Would you like me to come up with you, Delia? I would be quite happy to.”

  Delia stood up abruptly, sweeping Ruth aside and almost knocking her to the floor. If Barrie hadn’t grabbed her, she would have gone flying across the Aubusson carpet.

  “Go to hell the lot of you!” Delia yelled. “None of you really care about me, you never have!”

  With that she dashed out of the room, banging the door behind her.

  CHAPTER 17

  CANLEIGH – JUNE 1972

  Ruth couldn’t sleep. The events of the evening kept her mind alert and active and eventually, not bothering to slip on a dressing gown as it was so warm, she slid out of bed to sit by the south facing open window in her thin, white cotton nightdress.

  There was a half moon, throwing eerie shadows across the gardens below and in the distance it was just possible to see the lake shimmering softly. A light, cool breeze fanned Ruth’s warm body nicely. It soothed her, as did the faint rustlings of the trees, disturbed by the soft wind. An owl hooted, from the direction of the stables a horse whinnied and even though the Hall was a distance from the main road, Ruth heard a car cruise past, blaring its horn loudly as it travelled through Canleigh village towards Leeds.

  Her thoughts turned, as they had far too often, to her ‘problem’. Nearly three years had been spent studying medicine and in all that time Ruth knew it wasn’t for her. She was pathetic and should have been stronger and firmer with her overbearing parents who were determined to steer their daughter in the only direction they considered right but it was always easiest to agree with their wishes … and the wisest course of action to take to avoid friction.

  Ruth thought about her parents. They were in partnership with two other general practitioners, running a frantically busy and expanding surgery in Reading, which they wanted Ruth to join. They were totally committed to their calling and wrapped up in each other. Ruth, on her arrival in the world, was an unwelcome intrusion and having given birth, her mother promptly employed a nanny and returned to work. Childhood was a lonely experience. After making one mistake her parents had no intentions of making another and her mother arranged a sterilisation as soon as it was physically possible, preventing her only child from having any siblings with which to play and confide. Conversations at home were adult and dull, confined to medical matters and Ruth’s future career in that field. There was no other path to follow as far as they were concerned and if Ruth should happen to state a wish to be employed in some other occupation it was swiftly dismissed as a childish whim and not to be taken seriously.

  When Ruth obtained A-levels in chemistry, maths, physics and biology, enabling her to study medicine at Oxford they were overjoyed and it was good to bask in their pleasure at her achievements. The first two years at medical school hadn’t been too bad, concentrating on pre-clinical work. She enjoyed the instruction in anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, psychology, medical sociology and the basics of pathology and pharmacology. In fact, Ruth was relatively happy, making many friends, including Richard, and enjoyed the first real interest her parents took in her now she was actually doing something positive towards their goal of having her work with them.

  Then the three-year clinical course commenced and Ruth was plunged into an environment in which she felt ill at ease
. She disliked being attached to a ‘firm’ of two consultants, senior registrar, registrar, senior house officer, and a newly qualified house officer. Following them around for hours on end, permanently on her feet, having never ending questions fired at her, witnessing the patients’ humiliation as they were pummelled, poked and prodded by nervous medical students was definitely not her cup of tea.

  Ruth hated every minute of it and knew she had to get out and the longer she left it the more stressed, irritable and nervous she became but the very idea of telling her parents turned her blood to water. They would disown her. She would be a non-person in their eyes for evermore.

  She so envied Richard who had tried so hard to help and advise her. He was definitely in the correct profession for his particular talents but unlike her parents, he wasn’t blind to the fact that there were many other careers which could be just as fulfilling and worthwhile. They had talked endlessly about the problem, Richard plainly setting out all the pros and cons to make Ruth’s final decision easier.

  He was a good friend and Ruth knew that friendship was all it ever would be between them. Although he was handsome and brilliant and what most of his contemporaries considered a good catch, he was too engrossed in his career for a real relationship to be successful and added to this was the fact that a spark between them just wasn’t there. Ruth was perfectly happy with their purely platonic friendship, positive Richard felt the same way and anyway, he would need a far grander, more mature partner to bring to Canleigh when the time came.

  It was plain that he loved Canleigh very much. “I’d love you to see it, Ruth,” he had exclaimed enthusiastically when he invited her for this weekend. “It’s a grand old place, a really beautiful building surrounded by even more beautiful, peaceful countryside. It’s just what this doctor ordered, Ruth. A weekend away from Oxford and the hospital … give your head a chance to sort itself out. We can swim and ride and walk or you can just laze about in your room, by the pool or in the gardens with a good book if you so wish. Whatever you would like to do.”

  “But aren’t you going home to get ready for your sister’s wedding? Surely your family won’t want me cluttering up the place,” she had replied, alarmed at the prospect of spending time in the ancestral home of a Duke. He was bound to be grand and forbidding and Ruth found the prospect of meeting him somewhat daunting.

  Sensing she was anxious, Richard had hurried to allay her fears. “You’ll enjoy it, Ruth. I promise you. The family aren’t a frightening bunch. Father is an old softie, although he can be firm when he likes. You’ve met Vicky, you get on great, and that just leaves Delia ... and Philip of course. Delia is a law unto herself, can be terrifically bossy and temperamental but as she is on the point of marrying Philip, who she has been inseparable from since they were kids, she will be so excited and wound up about the wedding she will be easy to get along with. Please say you’ll come, Ruth. It’ll be so nice to have your company on that long journey up to Yorkshire. You’ve no idea how boring it can be on your own.”

  So, Ruth acquiesced and here she was, still pondering on her ‘problem’ amid the splendour of a fabulous Georgian stately home … and what a stately home it was. Ruth thought of the east wing with its truly wonderful décor and artistic treasures, the delightful gardens, the promise of a swim in that fabulous pool in the morning followed by a ride around the estate and then an evening stroll by the lake. She almost hugged herself with happiness. Richard had been right. She really was enjoying it. At least some of it … she felt very sad for Delia and couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling, especially after the dreadful display she had put on this evening. It had been so embarrassing for them all but in a way, Ruth could sympathise. Delia’s heart was broken and she was lashing out with pain and anger. It was understandable and no doubt she would feel embarrassed and would apologise to everyone tomorrow.

  Footsteps could be heard on the tarmac path leading up from the stables towards the Hall to the right of Ruth’s window, interrupting her train of thought. She shivered. Richard had said nothing about ghosts, although there must be one or two in a house as old as this. She sat still and watched, waiting for a sign that the footsteps belonged to a live person who should emerge from the dense shrubbery, hiding the path from view, at any second.

  Ruth sighed with relief when Delia emerged, her figure instantly recognisable in the subtle moonlight. She must have been riding as she was wearing trousers and riding boots. Delia grew closer to the Hall and looked up towards Ruth’s room. Although not sure if Delia could see her, Ruth raised a hand in greeting. There was no response. Delia put her head down and strode out of view around the side of the building.

  Feeling rebuffed, Ruth sighed, hoping the ride had made Delia feel a little better. Charles, mortified by Delia’s outburst, had apologised for his daughter’s behaviour following her dramatic departure from the library and though all of them sympathised with Delia’s plight, they hoped there would be no more such scenes during the weekend. Charles, Richard, and she then decided it was time to retire while Vicky and Barrie elected to take a stroll down to the lake.

  Ruth wondered how poor Vicky had dealt with the flirting between Delia and Barrie. Admittedly, Delia had been the instigator but Barrie had done very little to discourage her. Ruth remembered how vulnerable and sickly Vicky appeared when they first met, slowly recovering from the debilitating anorexia. It was a pleasure to see how well she looked now with her sparkling eyes, beautifully clear skin, and a lovely little figure and Barrie had contributed a lot to Vicky’s wellbeing, boosting her self-esteem and confidence. Ruth hoped Richard wasn’t right in his opinion that Barrie was a libertine and only interested in Vicky for the wrong reasons. It would devastate her if Barrie let her down, with every chance that the illness would take over again. It was a depressing thought. She wondered what Charles thought of the young man whom his youngest daughter was so in love with.

  Charles! Ruth bit her lip, her heart missing a beat. “I think it’s time to get some sleep, my girl,” she told herself firmly, going back to bed smiling widely. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Having only just snuggled down, luxuriating in the soft downiness of the mattress and crisp cotton sheets, she heard a soft tap on the door. She sat up, wondering if she was mistaken. Who on earth would want her in the middle of the night? It certainly couldn’t be Richard … and no, Charles would never do such a thing.

  The tap came again, quiet but firm. Ruth got out of bed and wrapped herself in her white cotton dressing gown which matched her nightdress before opening the door, astounded to see a grim looking Delia on the threshold.

  “I want a word with you,” Delia snarled, pushing her way passed Ruth to stand menacingly in the middle of the room, the faint whiff of horses coming in with her. She had removed her boots but was wearing scruffy jeans and a thin cotton blouse. “Shut the door. I don’t want to wake the whole household.”

  Startled into obedience, Ruth did as she was told, her hands trembling slightly on the door handle.

  Without further ado, Delia launched into confrontation. “I’m not going to mince my words. I’ve come to warn you that if you’ve any designs on my brother, to forget them right now. Richard’s title and fortune are not for the likes of you. Do I make myself clear?”

  “What?” Ruth gasped, astounded by the words but even more by the ferocity in which they were delivered.

  “Oh, don’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about,” said Delia scathingly. “Not only have you arrived here with designs on my brother but once you met my father, you really got stuck in,” she snapped, her dark eyes full of hate.

  Ruth, appalled by the attack, spat back quickly. “How dare you!” she said angrily, with rising indignation and resentment.

  But Delia was desperate. To see a woman, and a very attractive one at that, turn up with Richard had been a ghastly shock to the system. Richard hadn’t brought a woman home before and all the signs were ominous. The world was suddenly full of fort
une hunters; Barrie was an obvious one, then there was this ridiculous female and finally, that bloody Sue woman with Philip. She was with him now. Delia knew because she had galloped Demon up to the south gates but there was no joy in watching the sunset without Philip and his arms around her so she had turned Demon towards Tangles, her gorgeous, trusty horse heading towards the house without a stumble in the dim light.

  Delia had known it would be folly to go to Tangles again that day but couldn’t help herself and the amount of alcohol she had consumed before, during and after dinner, was giving her false courage but as soon as Demon turned towards the house Delia pulled him up sharply. That bloody woman’s van was there. It was definitely hers. The security light was on outside the kitchen and Delia could see the van clearly with the words ‘The Tack Shop’ emboldened in big green lettering with a picture of a saddle and bridle beneath. There was a light on in Philip’s bedroom and terrible, savage pain ripped through Delia again and again. It wasn’t hard to imagine what was going on in there. The tears coursed down her cheeks while Demon stood patiently, sensing there was something badly wrong. She turned him; in slow motion, it seemed to her, towards the Hall and instead of heading back at full pelt like they usually did, Demon walked slowly home, his rider overcome with grief on his back.

  Eventually, they reached the stables. The weather forecast had predicted rain throughout the night and Demon hated to get wet so she would stable him for the night. She slid off his back outside his loose box, hugged his neck, and cried softly into his coat. The horse nuzzled her protectively, trying hard to give her solace and it gradually worked. The tears ceased, she wiped her face, blew her nose with a tissue she had stuffed in the pocket of her jeans, took off the saddle and bridle and let Demon into his box. He whinnied softly as she walked away and she blew him a kiss. He was the only constant in her life now and she loved him so much. Nearly as much as Philip.