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

was dead.  Vicky wasn’t difficult to wake as she had been disturbed by Ruth talking on the telephone.  She was still using the guest room, unable to return to the master bedroom after what had occurred there.  Ruth knocked and entered.  Vicky, looking fragile, dressed in a virginal white cotton nightdress, pulled herself up to rest against the velvet headboard, and stared worriedly at Ruth when she sat on the bed and took Vicky’s hand in hers.

“I am so very sorry, Vicky,” Ruth murmured softly, not wanting to have to say the words she knew she must.

“Oh no!” Vicky cried, her eyes widening with alarm.  “Not Father.  Please don’t tell me it’s Father.”

“Oh, no,” Ruth said quickly, grasping Vicky’s hand tighter.  “No, Vicky.  It’s … Barrie.  He’s had a car crash at Canleigh.  I’m so sorry, love but he’s dead.”

Vicky’s eyes widened with surprise.  “What?  How … why … what about Delia … was she with him?”

“No.  Apparently, they seem to have had some kind of a row and there’s been a fire in her bedroom.  She’s injured and is in hospital.  Vicky, your father is returning home tomorrow so I’m going to have to go back to Canleigh too.  Do you want to come with me?”

“Yes.  I think I do.  I don’t know what use I shall be but we all need to be there for Father … and I want to be with the two of you.  I don’t want to remain here on my own.  Oh, goodness, Ruth.  What about Barrie’s parents?  They need to know.”

“Hardy told the police you were unwell and the rest of us are scattered around the country so they are arranging for someone from Oxford police station to do it.  It can’t be left for long as it will be all over the news in the morning.”

“I suppose it will,” said Vicky, sorrowfully.  “Ruth.  I think I must be an awful person.   The only thing I feel is some kind of weird relief.  I should be devastated … my husband is dead … but I don’t even want to cry.  Whatever is the matter with me?”

Ruth sat down beside her and hugged her close.  “It’s the shock, Vicky … and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.  That man put you through hell … and he can’t do it again.  You’re totally safe now and won’t ever have to worry about him walking through the door or working at the club anymore.  The next few weeks will probably be hard but once all the funeral business is over and done with, you’ll be free to get on with your life … and put all this behind you … now,” she said, picking up the bottle of sleeping pills beside the bed.  “Take one of these … and if you don’t mind, I’ll have one too.  We don’t need to spend hours tossing and turning, thinking about what might or might not have happened.  It will be bad enough, dealing with it all, when we reach Canleigh.”

Ruth left Vicky to sleep, glad that she hadn’t had to deal with any hysterics, and went to bed herself, hoping the sleeping tablet would do its job.  Her mind was all over the place with so much to think about and plan for.

And now, here they all were, back at Canleigh and one more bend and the Hall would come into view.  Charles was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles had turned white, Vicky was crying softly on Tina’s shoulder in the back.  Ruth just stared anxiously, willing the Hall to look the same as it always had.

At first glance, it didn’t look too bad.  Delia’s bedroom window was black with smoke, as were her sitting room and the guest room windows at either side of it, along with the stonework surrounding them.  Another police car, along with a fire engine, stood on the gravel near to the steps to the front door.  The firefighters were winding up hoses and packing their equipment away.  They all looked weary.

“Why are they still here?” asked Vicky, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.  “I thought the fire was last night.”

“They would have remained to make absolutely sure there was no chance of it starting up again,” said Charles.  “And probably trying to find out what actually caused it.”

He pulled up the Rolls next to the two vehicles and turned off the engine.  “I’m half frightened to go in,” he said.  “Heaven only knows what we are going to find.”

“We’ll do it together … come on, darling.  It really doesn’t look too bad from here.  It could have been a whole lot worse,” replied Ruth.  “And we’ll soon have it repaired and restored and in a few weeks’ it will be as good as new.”

Charles squeezed her hand.  “Yes, darling.  You’re right.  As always.”

Tina was taking Stephen out of the car and Hardy, his face a picture of misery and concern, descended the front steps and opened the passenger door of the Rolls.  The strong smell of smoke drifting down from above caused Ruth to recoil.

“I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” Hardy said quietly to Ruth as she moved to get out of the car.  “It all happened so quickly.”

Charles was standing on the gravel and gazing up at the top floor with a look of dismay on his face.  He had heard Hardy.  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Hardy.  You were in a dreadful position and you did your best.  If you and Anderson hadn’t acted so fast and rushed up to Delia’s room so quickly, it would have been quite a different story.  Delia is a very lucky woman to have survived and it’s all thanks to both of you, dragging her out of her bedroom.  It must have been terrifying.  You were both very brave … and I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank you,