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

as keen as her.  Richard, showing signs of wanting to be a doctor and spending hours playing about with the skeleton Margaret had brought him home from one of her interminable trips.  Richard, rambling over the Scottish hills with him on one of their long walks at Blairness.  Richard, devouring the books Charles wrote; always interested, always supportive, and always proud.  Richard, doing well at school with glowing reports and excellent exam results.  Richard, his precious son.  Charles opened his eyes and let the tears fall.

*   *   *

Philip Kershaw sat at the old oak table in the kitchen at Tangles and thought long and hard about the morning ahead.  He was going to attend the funeral.  He had to.  Richard had been his friend when they were growing up.  Even though Philip was closer to Delia than Richard … and Richard wasn’t so keen on tearing about the countryside on horseback as they had been, he had still figured largely in Philip’s young life, during school holidays and on their frequent trips to Blairness when Philip was always included.  Philip had considerable respect for Richard, trying to make his own way in the world, wanting to become a top surgeon and working hard towards his goal.  He could have had a life of luxury at Canleigh and possessed his own money to do more or less as he liked, having inherited a million pounds from his grandmother, but no, Richard had chosen a hard path and by all accounts had been tipped to achieve the dizzy heights in his career.  Richard was going to be a great loss to the medical world.

Philip took a sip of coffee from his mug with a picture of a rearing black horse on the side.  It reminded him of Demon, who was now back at Canleigh.  Perkins had rung Tangles the evening before last to announce Delia was home and wished to have Demon returned to the Canleigh stables.  With trepidation in case Delia was around, Philip had ridden him over and then Perkins had kindly driven him back to Tangles.  Nervous of meeting Delia again, Philip was relieved to get back onto his own land.  His marriage with Sue had proved strong and they still loved each other passionately but it was certainly much easier with Delia out of the way.  Now she was back it was going to be different.  Sue was wary and jealous of her and Philip was … Philip didn’t know how he felt about Delia … or about what had occurred in Richard’s flat.  It was all very peculiar.  Why had Delia been in America all this time with this person they were saying was Margaret’s illegitimate son?  Why had she brought him back to England and to Richard’s flat?  And what really went on?  Philip knew how Delia resented Richard and although he hadn’t been at Canleigh on the night Delia flounced out after a huge row with Richard and their father, he heard rumours that she had threatened to kill them and knowing Delia as he did, it did make him wonder.  At that time she was reeling from the shock of their broken engagement so to be denied her ambition of running Canleigh only days afterwards must have been a terrible blow.    She must have been so devastated and Philip still felt guilty for the part he had played in her misery.  He wasn’t looking forward to meeting her again, especially with the question hanging over her as to whether she had something to do with Richard’s death.  But he would know.  As soon as he looked into her eyes, he would know the truth.  Delia could never lie to him.

*   *   *

The day was suitably grey and depressing.  A light rain drizzled on and off, the dark clouds swirled overhead ominously and it was dreadfully cold.  Ruth awoke with a crushing sense of depression.  Stephen was sleeping deeply in his crib beside her.  She threw her duvet off, rolled out of bed and stood for a second, looking down at her darling son.  He looked so angelic; his little body, relaxed in sleep.  She badly wanted to pick him up and have a cuddle but there was no point in disturbing him yet.  Moving quietly across the room, she unlocked the door that led to her sitting room and went straight to the window at the far end.  She could see the church across the lawns.  During the summer it was hidden from view by the dense leaf-laden trees but now they were bare it was possible to see it clearly.  The vicar’s car was already there.  No doubt he was turning the heating was on and doing last minute checks to make sure the ceremony later that morning would go well.  Ruth had popped over yesterday when the flowers had been delivered and were being arranged.  The church looked beautiful.  Masses of white roses, lilies, and chrysanthemums adorned the nave and chancel.  The order of service cards had been delivered and would be given out to guests as they arrived.  Outside, a plot had been dug for Richard’s coffin next to his grandfather and grandmother.  It was all so very sad and Ruth wished Charles could have been here with her today.  It was so awful for him, to have to remain at the hospital and although she had arranged with the funeral director to have the requested recording made, it wouldn’t be the same.

The funeral was at eleven o’clock.  It would take around an hour and then guests were to be given a buffet lunch in the ballroom.  Around a hundred people were expected, many of Richard’s fellow students, staff from the Radcliffe Infirmary, at least those who could be spared; old school friends of Richard,  friends of Charles, many of whom Ruth had never met, villagers who had known Richard all his life and of course, the estate and household staff.  Security guards would