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

no sign of it and Vicky, numb with shock, was in no state to care one way or the other as the depression that had weighed her down heavily for many months intensified by the second.

She took a sip of her vodka, trying to get her head around what she had just heard from the journalist who had rung just minutes ago.  The woman had gleefully asked for her comments regarding the dismissal of Delia’s trial this morning due to lack of evidence, totally unaware Vicky had no idea of what had just occurred in Oxford but was more than pleased to update her.  Somehow, Delia’s barrister, Cubitt-Jones, had worked his magic and the judge ruled there was insufficient evidence to prove Delia had killed Rocky in anything other than self-defence, or planned Richard’s murder and, therefore, there was no case to answer.  According to the journalist, the court had been in uproar and a triumphant, smiling Delia left the building with her arm linked possessively through Barrie’s.

“It was good of your husband to provide so much support to your sister at this time,” purred the woman at the other end of the telephone.  “Will he be bringing her back to London to stay with you or will she be returning to the ancestral home?”

“I’ve no idea,” Vicky snapped and banged the telephone down sharply.

Vicky had known the trial was going well for Delia, having read all the newspapers and listened to the news on television with avid interest during the last two days but still couldn’t really believe she had been released and gotten away, literally, with murder.  Delia was so damned clever … such an excellent actress when she wanted to be.  And now she would be unbearable.  She would be given access to Richard’s inheritance and along with that and what she already possessed from their grandmother’s legacy, would be immensely rich and free to go where she liked and with whom she liked and probably cause yet more havoc in the family and that was what Vicky was worried about the most.

Thanks to Delia, Vicky’s marriage was in tatters and she couldn’t pretend differently any longer, and there was every reason to feel fearful for her future now Delia was unconfined, especially after the dreadful row with Barrie three days ago which had left Vicky in no doubt about exactly what he thought of her and terrified for her life.

Their relationship had been rocky right from the moment Vicky stepped back into the club after her trip up to Canleigh.  Being in Barrie’s presence became increasingly difficult, knowing Delia had somehow persuaded him to put up bail and then slept with him immediately afterwards.  Vicky had wanted to confront him but the words would never come.  Perhaps if she didn’t say them, it wouldn’t be real and she could pretend it had never happened and it was almost a relief when he took to disappearing for two days every week when the club was quiet.  Supposedly, it was to play golf at a prestigious club in the Midlands but he always returned reeking of Delia’s perfume.

They didn’t speak about what was going on but it was there, in the icy atmosphere between them.  Vicky withdrew into a shell and Barrie kept out of her way as much as possible or they sat in frosty silence if they were alone together.  Alex became a rock and Vicky leaned on him more and more, knowing he had guessed what was going on but didn’t know what he could do to help her.  Vicky knew he loved her and had done for a long time.  It was apparent every time he looked at her and as her feelings for Barrie underwent a massive change from love to near hate, she realised too late she had married the wrong man.  How different life would have been if she had fallen in love with Alex instead of Barrie.

Vicky, heartbroken and miserable before the row, had tried to concentrate on the business but her mind was all over the place and she completely messed up two important functions the day before Delia’s trial.  All hell broke loose.  Barrie exploded with anger when he discovered her mishandling of such highly prized clients, culminating in a furious confrontation when he came up to the flat, having spent hours trying unsuccessfully to rectify the damage.  He had been drinking and was looking for a fight.

“You’re bloody useless,” he had yelled at her.  “For God’s sake woman.  We’ve worked so hard to build up this business.  What the hell did you think you were doing, not putting one function in the diary and then forgetting to book the caterers for another?  You’ve lost us a huge amount of revenue and our reputation is going down the pan.”

“I’m sorry,” Vicky trembled.  “I’m finding it all so difficult at the moment … Richard … Delia … you.”

“Well, pull yourself together.  Richard is dead and as for Delia ….”

Vicky looked at her angry husband aghast, knowing this was going to be the showdown that had been threatening for weeks.  Barrie was in his business suit, pulling at his tie, his face red with fury.  He reeked of whisky.

“Oh, yes.  Delia,” she said quietly, the anger, which had been building for months beginning to boil over.  “My lovely, trustworthy, faithful sister … for whom you put our business at risk to help her with bail … and then brought back here to have sex … no doubt in our bed.”

Barrie had the decency to look uncomfortable.  In fact, he couldn’t even look at her.  He made to leave the room.

“Don’t you turn your back on me,” Vicky yelled.  “I want an answer.  Why did you have to go running to help her?  The one person you knew I could never forgive for what you both did at Canleigh before we even got married.  What’s so