Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) by Carole Williams (uplifting novels TXT) 📕

“Delia ….”

Her strength returned in full force.  She turned on Richard vehemently.  “At this moment in time I couldn’t care less … not about him … not about Vicky … and certainly not about you.  I meant what I said downstairs.  I’m going to get even for what you’ve done to me.”

It was Richard’s turn to pace.   “This is getting out of hand, Delia.  Please, calm down.  Father and I have been talking for months about a replacement for Dick.  What else were we supposed to do?  As far as we were concerned you were marrying Philip.”

“But I wasn’t exactly going miles away, was I,” Delia screamed. “I could have been here every day … I would have … I would die for this place … you know I would … while you, you couldn’t care less about it.  It could fall down around your ears and you wouldn’t give a damn … all you’ve ever cared about is your stupid career.”

Striding to the wardrobe she pulled out two of the suitcases packed days ago, ready for her move to Tangles.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Richard wearily, scratching his head.  “you can’t go anywhere now.  It’s getting late.”

“If you think I’m staying under this roof with you and Father for one more night, you’re very much mistaken.”

“You can’t, Delia.  We need to sort this out … calmly … in the morning.  Give them to me,” he said, trying to arrest the suitcases from her grasp.

“Let her go, Richard,” cried Vicky from the doorway, dressed in a flimsy cornflower blue negligee, looking pale and exhausted.  “The sooner she’s off the premises the better.”

“Go back to your room, Vicky, please … I thought Ruth was looking after you?” panted Richard, still tussling with Delia, who was trying to bite his hand and kick his shins.  He couldn’t believe she was acting like this.  She had completely lost control.

“I’m here,” said Ruth from behind Vicky.  She had left Vicky in her own room as she insisted she wanted to be left alone.  Ruth, thinking it was for the best had acquiesced with relief, desperate to retire herself.  She had only just begun undressing when she heard the commotion further down the corridor and decided to see what was happening, although she hadn’t expected to find Richard and Delia literally fighting over suitcases.

“Will you leave me alone!” screamed Delia.  “Let go, Richard!”

“No.  You’re not going anywhere tonight … you’ve had a drink… you shouldn’t drive.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” yelled Delia, her stiletto heel driving into Richard’s leg and ripping his trousers.

“Aaaah,” cried Richard, dropping his hold on the suitcases.  Blood was pouring from a nasty gash and he clutched his leg.

Delia, seeing her chance grabbed her luggage, her handbag and car keys from the bedside table, pushed Vicky and Ruth aside and fled down the corridor.

“And good riddance,” shouted Vicky.  “Don’t ever come back!”

Ruth looked in despair at Richard, who was examining his leg, mopping up the blood with his handkerchief.  Vicky, crying quietly went back to her room.

“Are you okay?” asked Ruth.

“I’ll have to go after her,” said Richard.  “She shouldn’t drive.  She could kill someone … or herself … she’s had too much to drink and she’s angry.”

“Well that needs seeing to first,” said Ruth, pointing to his leg.  The wound was bleeding profusely and needed bandaging.

Richard looked quickly round the room.  “A pillowcase will do for now.  I haven’t got time to rummage around the kitchen for the first aid kit. Rip one up, Ruth, please.”

Ruth ripped one off a pillow, knelt on the floor and wrapped up his leg.  “That should hold for a while but it does need proper care.”

“You don’t have to tell me that … but it can wait a while.  I must catch Delia.”

Despite being in pain, Richard was gone in a flash.  Wearily, Ruth headed back to her own room, stopping to listen at Vicky’s door but all was quiet so she continued on her way, shutting her door behind her with relief.  She hoped Richard would be okay but she certainly wasn’t going to wait up and see if he and Delia returned.

It only took a few moments to complete her toilette and she sunk into the softness of the bed with great pleasure and closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her.  Her mind was too active.  The scene last night with Delia, warning her off Richard; the ride this morning, Delia’s exhibition in the Canleigh Arms, dinner this evening enjoying Charles’ company; Vicky’s dreadful revelations and this final row in Delia’s room.  All this in twenty-four hours … and she had come away for peace and quiet.  She giggled.  What a joke that was.  It would seem very tame going back to Oxford after this little lot.

The roar of Delia’s powerful E-Type penetrated the stillness of the night.  The car surged up the drive from the stables, passed the Hall and headed towards the main road.  It turned towards Leeds and gradually faded into the distance.

Ruth wondered where Delia would go.  She hadn’t mentioned any friends so maybe to a hotel somewhere.  It seemed she was pretty wealthy in her own right thanks to the inheritance from the grandmother so money wouldn’t be a problem.  She could go wherever she wanted.  As long as she didn’t come back before Ruth and Richard left in the morning.  Ruth didn’t think she could bear any more histrionics this weekend.

Sleep wouldn’t come.  She tried hard, focusing on counting sheep and then counting down from three hundred very slowly but temperature seemed to be a problem.  One minute she was too hot and then after throwing off some covers, too cold.  Then she had a coughing fit and had to sit up and pour a drink from