Vicky gave a weak smile. “Yes, Ruth. I’ll survive … but I’m desperately tired. Hardy mentioned that the primrose bedroom has been prepared for me. Would you mind if I go up and have a nap? I’m not sure whether I’ll come down to dinner though. I might well have something upstairs if I become hungry.”
“This has all been a dreadful shock for you, darling. Go on up, get plenty of rest and we’ll speak in the morning,” said Charles, giving his daughter a comforting hug before she left the room.
“And how about you, Charles,” asked Ruth, sitting beside him on the sofa. “How do you feel?”
“Like Vicky, just tired. It was a long drive and then coming home to all of this … this angst.”
He opened his arms and Ruth slid into them, relishing the warmth of his body next to hers again. She had missed his physical presence terribly in the last few traumatic days and even though their reunion was caused by such ghastly events, she was inordinately pleased to be with him again.
* * *
The next morning, as Charles met with the police and the fire officer and decided on a plan of action to restore the wrecked parts of the Hall, and Vicky remained closeted in her room, Ruth drove nervously to Pinderfields Hospital in Wakefield to where after emergency treatment in Leeds, Delia had been transferred.
Up until she walked into the office of the burns specialist, Gary Sutherland, a tall figure with a kindly smile, a white coat and calm, reassuring tone of voice, Ruth had no real idea of the extent of Delia’s injuries. Her hands and arms had received first degree burns which would heal in a matter of weeks but Ruth was horrified to learn she had also suffered second degree burns to one side of her face, where there was also a deep wound caused by falling on a jagged piece of glass when Barrie hit her, and even with plastic surgery, Delia would be left disfigured for the rest of her life. However, his final words on Delia’s condition gave Ruth a tremendous jolt.
Gary Sutherland looked at her kindly. “But please don’t worry about the baby. We’ve done tests and there is nothing of concern and we won’t start any plastic surgery until after it’s born.”
“Oh, my God,” Ruth gasped.
Gary Sutherland looked appalled. “Oh dear,” he said, “I am so sorry. I presumed you knew. I should never have said anything … patient confidentiality ….”
Even as her head was whirling with the information he had just imparted, Ruth felt sorry for him. The poor man looked so worried.
“It’s fine,” she said, pulling herself together. “Yes, it’s a surprise but I won’t tell her that I know. I promise.”
Unable to see Delia because she was sleeping after the first round of treatment undergone on arrival at the hospital, Ruth drove slowly back towards Leeds, lost in thought. Her mind was in turmoil as she tried to think whose baby it could be and could only come up with one answer. According to Vicky, Delia had been having an affair with Barrie since she was arrested in November and Gary Sutherland had confirmed she was about ten weeks along. Ruth felt a terrible sadness for Vicky. She would know instantly that the baby was Barrie’s. What a terrible twist of fate that her sister was carrying the child she had so longed for.
Glad that everyone was fully occupied at home for a while Ruth parked up in a country lane, opened the window and listened to the birds singing in the trees and the rustle of the breeze as it wafted gently across the fields and hedgerows. She breathed in the fresh, clean air and tried to think what to do for the best. Vicky and Charles would have to be told but not just yet. It would be too cruel. And what would happen to Delia in the future? A great deal of nursing care would be necessary but she couldn’t return to Canleigh. Delia was financially independent and would have to rely on her own resources. Charles would never allow her home now. Even though she was so terribly injured and her beautiful looks gone for ever, being pregnant with Barrie’s child would be enough of a reason. Charles might forgive her for the fire, indeed he probably would, but not the affair with Barrie, resulting in his death. He would be ever mindful of the hurt and misery it would cause Vicky. She would be his first concern. No, Delia had really sealed her fate and Ruth shuddered to think how she would react when she was able to take in what had happened to her.
Ruth returned to Canleigh, dreading the journey down the drive and having to pass the wreckage of Barrie’s car again. His body had been removed overnight but the car had still been there when she had left the estate earlier. She needn’t have worried. The Jaguar had been taken away and estate workers were hard at work, hacking at what remained of the charred oak tree as it was now considered too dangerous to leave standing. It would also have been a sore reminder to the family, especially Vicky, of what had occurred on that spot every time they entered or left the estate.
In Ruth’s absence, Charles had been busy and various craftsmen swarmed about the house, assessing the damage and deciding on how best to restore it and Vicky was up and dressed, sitting on the sofa by the crackling fire in the library with a large notepad and pen on her lap, writing furiously with a determined look on her face.
“Hello, Ruth,” she said, brightly. “You’ve timed that just right as Hardy should be here any minute with coffee. I’ve rung Barrie’s parents,” she went on. “They are naturally distraught so I offered to help organise the funeral … there’s so much to think about … book the service in their local church, choosing the coffin, flowers, hymns … who to invite. There’s also the death to register, the insurance to claim, his personal belongings to be packed up and sent to them … gosh, I didn’t realise there was so much to do … it’s going to be next week … would you … would you mind coming with me, Ruth . . . please? I don’t think I can go on my own and I don’t want to ask Father.”
They travelled down to Oxford the following week. Alex had wanted to join them but was unable to find a relief manager for the club. Since the family had returned to Canleigh he had rung Vicky every morning, ostensibly to report on what was happening with the business, but really to check on her and for the joy of hearing her voice. Ruth had been pleased to see how these phone calls cheered Vicky up and how she emitted a growing glow of happiness after the two had spoken.
Having given the matter of Richard’s car some thought, Vicky decided she and Ruth could drive it down to the funeral in Oxford and as Ruth was happy to return to Leeds by train, could continue on to London with it so it could be sold, as she had promised her father. Feeling stronger after a few days at Canleigh and with the knowledge that she would never have to face Barrie again, she also wanted to return to the flat, remove all of his belongings and then rent it out, unable to bear living there again. Alex was offering to share his flat with her for the time being and she wanted to return to work and get on with her life.
The funeral was an ordeal. Barrie’s mother, a short dumpy little woman with permed grey hair, dressed in a smart black suit and low-heeled black leather court shoes, fussed over Vicky relentlessly, having no idea what unhappiness the girl had endured at the hands of her son. Luckily, Vicky’s bruises and mouth had healed and she bore no outwardly signs of the terrible beating she had received at his hands.
After a tense couple of hours in the presence of Barrie’s parents and relatives, Vicky and Ruth managed to slip away, making the excuse that Ruth had a train to catch. Standing on the platform, waiting for the train to come in, Vicky kissed Ruth goodbye.
“Thank you so much, Ruth, for all you’ve done … especially for me. I couldn’t have managed to get through the past few weeks without you. You’ve been an absolute brick and Father made the best decision of his life when he married you.”
Ruth hugged her hard. “Thank you. That’s a lovely thing to say. Now you look after yourself. If you want us for anything you know where we are … although I have a funny feeling you will be looked after very well by Alex,” she grinned. Vicky grinned back but didn’t comment.
As Ruth sat on the train, heading back up north, she felt relieved to think that Alex would look after Vicky to t
he best of his ability and looked forward to hearing they were officially a couple sometime in the future. The family needed some good news desperately and Ruth knew Charles liked Alex immensely and would be delighted … and Vicky would need Alex badly when informed Delia was pregnant with Barrie’s child. Thank God for Alex.
* * *
Canleigh was a hive of activity for the next few weeks. All the furnishings and much of the furniture in the rooms affected by the fire were disposed of and once the walls and floor thoroughly cleaned, carpenters and painters were busily working there every day. Ruth’s task was to choose new colours and fabrics for all of the rooms, apart from Delia’s.
“I don’t know what we should do with her rooms,” said Charles one evening as they sat together in the library after dinner. “As cross as I am with Delia, once she’s discharged from hospital, I suppose she should come home, so should they be restored to how they were before the fire or should we give them a completely new look?”
Ruth studied him under her lashes. She still hadn’t told him Delia was pregnant but it couldn’t be left much longer. Once Delia left the sanctuary of her private ward at the hospital it would be plain for all to see that she was going to have a baby. It was going to be a terrible shame to shatter their present peace but it was going to have to be done and now might be a good time. Charles was relaxed after dinner and had nothing to do for the rest of the evening apart from retire to bed. If his blood pressure was going to be raised, this was the best time to do it.
“I’m afraid Delia has more to contend with than her injuries,” she said quietly, crossing her fingers under her leg, praying for the strength to tell him what she had to.
“Oh?” He looked at her enquiringly.
Ruth gulped and then took his hand, wishing fervently she didn’t have to tell him such shocking news.
“She’s pregnant,” she said simply.
Charles didn’t say a word. He sat, watching the flames flickering in the fireplace and Ruth began to wonder if he had heard her. “Charles ….”
“I heard you,” he said, wearily wiping his hand across his brow. “And do we know who the father is?”
“Not for certain as we don’t know what she has been up to … but I have a nasty suspicion it might be Barrie. She’s been having an affair with him ever since he helped her with bail.”
Charles stood up and went to the fireplace, stared at the flickering flames for a couple of minutes and then turned to face Ruth, a look of anguish on his face which broke her heart. She would have done anything to spare him this.
“If it is Barrie’s, she can never come back here, Ruth. Not anymore. It hurts me more than anyone will ever know to have to say it but she simply can’t, whatever she says or does to try to wriggle out of what she has done. God,” he turned to stare at the portrait of the Dowager over the fireplace, “I am so glad Mother isn’t here to witness any of this. She would be horrified that her precious Delia could behave as badly as she has. Delia was always her favourite, you know. They were like peas in a pod really. Delia idolised her and if she hadn’t died so early on in Delia’s life, none of this would have happened. She would have been able to steer Delia away from doing all the rotten things she has done … unlike me. I don’t know where I have gone wrong but I certainly haven’t been the father I should.”
“Charles … please … none of this is your fault … you can’t blame yourself.”
“Oh, but I do, Ruth. I abandoned Delia here, after her mother left and my mother died. The girl had a breakdown and although the Kershaw’s were brilliant and looked after her at Tangles for me, I should have remained here for her instead of vanishing up to Blairness. I only considered my own grief. I was selfish and abandoned my child when she needed me most.”
“From what you’ve told me before, she refused to speak to you. She blamed you for turning Margaret out of Canleigh and for your mother’s fatal stroke. You said yourself Dr. Arnold said it was best to leave her at Tangles where she was loved and well cared for to give her a chance to get over it.”
“Yes, that’s perfectly true but even after I returned, we never talked about any of it. I tried … more than once … but she blanked me every time. She would find some excuse to leave the room. Anything to avoid it. She put up an impenetrable wall around herself and just wouldn’t allow me in. I hate to say it but I gave up then. It was obvious she was happier at Tangles than she was at Canleigh with me so I agreed that she should remain there until she wanted to return to Canleigh while I shut myself away at Blairness. It seemed the right thing to do at the time. She was happier without me … or so I thought but I should have insisted she remain here with me. I should have been stronger, more fatherly, than I was … should have got much closer to her … to all of them I suppose. I have been a useless father for years. It was wonderful when they were little. We had such fun … I always felt I had to make up for Margaret’s lack of interest so Mother and I did all we could … we had some wonderful days out at the coast, fabulous picnics, lots of laughter … building special memories … then it all went so horribly wrong … and has continued to do so … so yes, Ruth, I do blame myself. I took my eye off the ball once Mother died and Margaret disappeared off to goodness knows where with her dratted lover. Richard and Vicky were away at school and then University and Delia remained here, without her family around her. I tried, of course … I bought her Demon, who she desperately wanted … I paid for the estate management course at Askham Bryan she wanted to do … but that’s another thing … I had no idea she wanted to do it because of Canleigh. That she harboured hopes of running the estate. I assumed she wanted to do it to be able to help Philip at Tangles after they married. So, you see, Ruth, I got it all wrong didn’t I? I didn’t give her ideas of running Canleigh a chance. I dismissed it immediately. I could have listened. I could have given it serious thought but I didn’t. I just ruined her last shred of faith in me and look where it’s got me. Richard is dead, Vicky is distraught and Delia is in hospital, disfigured and pregnant with her brother in law’s baby. Oh yes, Ruth, I’ve been a brilliant father,” he finished bitterly.
Ruth stood up and put her arms around him, hugging him close. There was nothing she could say.
* * *
The awkward first meeting was one Ruth would never forget. She entered the private room at the end of the ward and looked at the woman in a scarlet negligee sitting up in bed and staring out of the window. From that angle, Ruth could see no difference. Delia’s long dark hair, pulled forward to cover most of her face, was recently washed and shone in the sunlight streaming through the window. She appeared seemingly calm, the nervous pulling of her fingers, almost as if she wanted to wrench them from her hands, the only sign of agitation. Ruth recalled Charles mentioning that Delia did it all the time when she was recovering from her nervous breakdown after the trauma of her mother’s dramatic departure from Canleigh and the death of his mother.
Ruth left the door open, in case she felt the need to flee. The woman in the bed could do her no physical injury but Ruth hated to admit she made her nervous. There was an aura of something not quite nice around Delia … not exactly evil but extremely close. Ruth hesitated, desperately wanting to leave the room, the hospital and Wakefield and drive back to the safety of Canleigh and Charles. If there was one place in the world she didn’t want to be, it was here with Delia but she was and there were things which had to be said.
“Delia?” said Ruth quietly. “How are you?”
“Oh, it’s you … I wondered how long it would take someone from the Hall to deign to visit me,” said Delia, jeeringly.
With a sudden movement, her hands shot up and she whipped her hair back, pointing to the huge dressing on the right side of her face.
“Actually, I’m just marvellous, stepmother dear. They kindly allowed me to see this earlier today when they took the bandages off. A really kind, sympathetic nurse stood beside the bed with a mirror … and I’m going to look absolutely fantastic with my
beautiful new scar … it’s deep and long … and only just missed my eye … but I’m supposed to be lucky, because it did. It’s going to mean a lot of operations and then there’s no guarantee it will disappear. Maybe fade a little but I am going to look just great for the rest of my life … and it’s all down to bloody Barrie. I’m so glad he died. He deserved every bit of pain. I hope he suffered in absolute agony.”
Ruth stood silent, listening to the tirade, massively relieved Charles hadn’t accompanied her. He had suggested it but she knew he didn’t really want to and she wanted to spare him something from the ghastly mess Delia had hurtled them all into. Gaining courage, she moved further into the room and pulled up a chair beside the bed.
“I am sorry, Delia. It must be simply awful for you.”
Delia stared at Ruth, her dark brown eyes gleaming scornfully. “Don’t pretend you care … and it’s obvious Father doesn’t, otherwise he would be here … but then he buggered off when I had a nervous breakdown as a child so I couldn’t really expect him to turn up now.”
“I know about the baby,” said Ruth, defiantly staring back at Delia.
“What?” exclaimed Delia, sitting up abruptly. “I thought my state of health was supposed to be confidential. How dare they tell you? It has nothing to do with you … or anyone else.”
“There was no malice in it. It was just a chance remark made when I enquired about your injury and the treatment you were having. The consultant reassured me that the baby wouldn’t be affected. He assumed as close family your father and I would know you were pregnant.”
“Close family!” spat Delia. “That’s a joke.”
“Delia,” said Ruth with more confidence than she felt. “Who is the father? Is it Barrie?”
Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) Page 59