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

“Yes, Sue.  You will.  I’ll look forward to it,” he said.

Their eyes locked for a brief second, sending shock waves through both of them. In a complete flap, Sue started the van and headed for the road, her mind racing, heart going crazy and half an hour later, had no idea how she had managed to reach Harrogate safely as she certainly hadn’t been concentrating on her driving.

Meanwhile, Philip, having watched the white van disappear down the drive, felt a deep sense of excitement in the pit of his stomach and began to wonder if he was wise to go to Jim’s party after all.

CHAPTER 13 CANLEIGH, YORKSHIRE – MAY 1972

Delia lay on her bed and groaned, not with the pain, which was receding with the help of painkillers and the cold compress Mrs. Hardy had thoughtfully supplied, but because Vicky had arrived earlier than expected.  It was highly irritating as the plan was for the Canleigh family to arrive en masse tomorrow and the thought of having to make small talk with her silly younger sister was not how Delia wanted to spend her evening.  They had little liking for each other and without a third person present, the conversation would be a real strain.

Apart from the wedding, there was nothing to talk about as their lives and tastes had run along different lines.  They hadn’t attended the same schools.  Delia was mad about Canleigh, horses and the countryside and oozed confidence.  Vicky, shy and anxious as a young child was terrified of horses.  Delia vividly remembered witnessing Vicky’s stupid screaming fit when she had her first riding lesson and had little patience with her younger sister from that day on.  However, Vicky had changed somewhat since recovering from what Delia considered a somewhat ridiculous eating disorder.  Being a most attractive young woman with a title and seen frequently in London, at the theatre watching ballet or listening to opera, wearing the latest fashions and driving fast cars, naturally courted the attentions of the press and she appeared frequently in the tabloids.  Out of all of the three siblings Vicky seemed prone to be most like their mother, apart from there being, as far as Delia was aware, a distinct lack of men in her life.  Vicky was often pictured spilling out of various noisy venues in Oxford or London with a crowd of other silly girls and sometimes Delia had wondered if perhaps her younger sister preferred the company of the same sex, although according to Richard, Vicky actually did have a boyfriend now, whom he didn’t consider a particularly good catch.

Delia clenched her teeth and winced as an almighty sneeze erupted, followed by a violent coughing fit and she could have screamed as a piercing pain shot through her head.  Gingerly she sat up, blew her nose, shot a couple more migraine tablets into her mouth, drank a glass of water, and cursed loudly.

“Bugger, bugger, bugger,” she hissed.  “Please don’t tell me I have a cold as well as a damned migraine.”

Prone to migraines for a couple of years after the loss of Granny, put down to stress by the ageing Dr. Arnold, they had disappeared after Delia, at the age of eighteen, was allowed to live at Canleigh on her own while her father resided at Blairness.  This was the first attack for a very long time but no doubt it was caused by the tension she was feeling with the forthcoming wedding and, of course, the whole family descending on Canleigh at once.  She began to think her idea of a get-together before the wedding wasn’t such a good one.  At least Vicky and Richard were only here this weekend but Father was going to be in situ for the whole fortnight leading up to the ceremony.  It was a long time since they were residing in the same building and being pleasant to him for two whole weeks was going to be exhausting.  Delia had planned and arranged the whole wedding but he still felt he should actually be in residence for the last stages, especially as he was paying for the whole shindig and she hoped he wasn’t going to question any of her decisions.

The only good thing about this migraine was it meant she had a great excuse for not attending that dratted birthday party in the village this evening.  Delia dreaded such gatherings, playing the Lady of the Manor, a role in which she excelled but which could pall after an hour or two.

She glanced at the bedside clock.  It was only five thirty.  She rolled over, clamping the compress to her head and closed her eyes.  She was going nowhere and wanted to speak to no-one for at least a couple of hours.

*   *   *

Philip hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sue since she pulled out of his drive and panic and excitement engulfed him at the thought of the evening ahead.  He fervently wished Delia was going.  He had a funny feeling that to go on his own would be asking for trouble but what could he do?  He had to go.  Jim was expecting him and he couldn’t let him down now.

Philip banged around in the vast kitchen, throwing a spaghetti Bolognese together.  Cooking was a pleasure to him.  Granny had insisted he learn to look after himself as she didn’t believe in the male species being entirely useless in the kitchen.  She had taught him the basics but he liked experimenting with herbs and spices, different cuts of meat and varieties of fish and often cooked up some scrummy meals when he had the time.  He wasn’t that hungry tonight but knew it was important to eat something if he was going to have a pint or two … and that’s