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

all it would be, he promised himself.  He would make an appearance in the village hall for perhaps an hour, if he could get away with it, hopefully avoiding talking or dancing with Sue.  It could probably be managed fairly easily as he knew everyone who was going so could make sure he was engrossed in conversation with anyone and everyone to avoid her.  Then he could return home and tuck up in bed with a good book.  He could do with an early night.  He’d been working extremely hard lately as two stable hands were off sick with some kind of flu virus and he hoped they would all be back to full health before the wedding.  Delia and he had planned a two-week honeymoon in the Seychelles but if the girls weren’t better, he would be reluctant to leave his business for any length of time.

The meal was good and he felt calmer once he had eaten.  He dashed upstairs for a shower, wondering how he was going to cope, sharing the house with Delia on a permanent basis.  She was terrifically neat and tidy whereas he tended to leave a room as if a storm had erupted, although she didn’t seem to mind.  At least nothing was said but when she was at Tangles, they were either down at the stables, out with the horses or active in bed, and although she kept a change of clothes in his wardrobe, hadn’t actually moved in yet with all her luggage.

He squared his shoulders and thought about Delia as a permanent fixture.  He had lived with the knowledge that it was going to happen for years but now the time was virtually here, alarm bells were ringing loudly.  Life wouldn’t be dull with Delia but would certainly be a challenge.   He did love her and he knew she idolised him but she wasn’t the easiest person in the world to be with, that was for sure.

Philip examined himself in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door.  He scrubbed up well and felt better now he had on clean blue jeans and a pale blue shirt, freshly ironed that day by Molly.  He looked assured and in control but inwardly matters weren’t quite that simple.  His feelings were in turmoil.  If Delia was with him tonight, he wouldn’t have to be concerned with this niggling feeling about Sue.  His hand hovered over the telephone recently installed in the bedroom.  Perhaps he should ring her.  She might be feeling better.  His hand went back to his side.  Once Delia made up her mind it was impossible to change it and he knew her migraine must be severe or she would definitely be going with him.  It was an extremely rare occurrence for them to be attending a social event without the other and perhaps he should just make the most of his unexpected freedom.

He looked around the room.  Just a hint of excitement rushed through him as he quickly tidied up, putting his dirty clothes in the bin and making the bed.  Why was he doing that?  Nobody bar him would be seeing it later.

*   *   *

Delia awoke, relieved to discover she felt slightly better.  There was now just a dull ache in her head and the nausea had disappeared.  It was seven thirty and she was beginning to feel hungry, having eaten very little all day due to the migraine.  A bit of exercise and fresh air wouldn’t do any harm either.  She got out of bed, had a quick wash and cleaned her teeth in her bathroom and then pulled on jeans and a t-shirt.  Dinner was normally served at this time but she didn’t want anything substantial and anyway, Vicky would be in the dining room and she really didn’t want to join her.  She would sneak down to the kitchen, have some cereal and get out of the house for a while via the kitchen door.  She didn’t feel well enough to ride but a walk down to the lake might be a good idea.  It had started to rain but her Barbour would keep her dry.

Her luck wasn’t in.  Having descended the main stairs and turning to go down to the kitchen, she was startled by the front door being thrown open.  A dishevelled Vicky burst into the entrance hall, shaking her wet hair and virtually catapulting into Delia.

“Oh, hi,” Vicky giggled, coming to a grinding halt.  “Sorry … didn’t mean to bowl you over but I just went out to lock the car and it started to pour with rain … goodness knows why … it raining I mean, not why I locked the car … although I don’t really know why I should here … habit, I suppose … living in a big city … not like here … all quiet and no crime.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” snapped Delia.  “Do stop going on.  Your prattle is beginning to make my head ache again.”

Vicky gulped nervously and planted a kiss on Delia’s cheek.  “Sorry … didn’t mean to.”

She pointed a hand out of the window.  “What do you think?  Brilliant little car … got me up here in no time.”

Delia walked over to the window and glanced out at Vicky’s prized possession.  It obviously gave Vicky a real thrill but wasn’t a match for Delia’s beautiful silver Jaguar E type with its long bonnet and powerful four-litre engine, parked down in the garages in the stable block and which Vicky hadn’t seen yet.  Two weeks ago, Delia and Richard had celebrated their twenty-first birthday and inherited a million pounds each from darling Granny.  Vicky, being only nineteen, had two more years to wait for hers.  As it was becoming a real pain to drive off the estate now that the battered old Landrover and the shooting break were so ancient it was illegal to take them on the road and father had the