“Well, if neither of you ladies would like it, I suppose we’ll have to sell it. I certainly have no use for a sports car,” Charles attempted a smile.
“I’ll drive it down to London when I go back,” offered Vicky, sorrowfully. “I can sell it down there easily enough.”
“Thank you. I don’t really want to see it here, as a constant reminder. Let’s go back downstairs. I don’t know about you two but I need a drink after all this.”
That’s a relief anyway,” Charles continued as they descended the stairs back to the library, where Hardy had opened the French windows to allow in the fresh air. “We can still use our rooms, Vicky can have one of the guest rooms for the time being, and the nursery is unaffected. I’ll not look at the crimson rooms until later. I don’t think I can face it at the moment,” he said, glancing up at the portrait of his mother over the fireplace, wondering what she would have thought of her precious Delia now.
He nodded at the brandy decanter and then glanced at his wife and daughter. “Would you like one?”
Both women nodded, watching him pour a liberal amount into three glasses. Vicky and Ruth took the drinks gratefully, needing something to steady their nerves after such a traumatic homecoming.
Vicky moved to the French window, stared out blankly, and then threw back the brandy in one gulp.
“Are you okay?” Ruth asked, deeply worried how this was all going to affect the young woman she had grown so fond of. Vicky was physically on the mend from the assault in London but was still vulnerable and Ruth was at her wits end to know what more she could do to help her … and then there was Charles to worry about … Barrie’s funeral to get through … and the biggest problem of all … Delia. Someone from the family should visit her in hospital. Vicky wouldn’t and shouldn’t. Charles certainly couldn’t, as it would make him too angry. Therefore, Ruth had a nasty feeling it was going to have to be her. She, too, drank her brandy quickly.
Vicky gave a weak smile. “Yes, Ruth. I’ll survive … but I’m desperately tired. Hardy mentioned that the primrose bedroom has been prepared for me. Would you mind if I go up and have a nap? I’m not sure whether I’ll come down to dinner though. I might well have something upstairs if I become hungry.”
“This has all been a dreadful shock for you, darling. Go on up, get plenty of rest and we’ll speak in the morning,” said Charles, giving his daughter a comforting hug before she left the room.
“And how about you, Charles,” asked Ruth, sitting beside him on the sofa. “How do you feel?”
“Like Vicky, just tired. It was a long drive and then coming home to all of this … this angst.”
He opened his arms and Ruth slid into them, relishing the warmth of his body next to hers again. She had missed his physical presence terribly in the last few traumatic days and even though their reunion was caused by such ghastly events, she was inordinately pleased to be with him again.
* * *
The next morning, as Charles met with the police and the fire officer and decided on a plan of action to restore the wrecked parts of the Hall, and Vicky remained closeted in her room, Ruth drove nervously to Pinderfields Hospital in Wakefield to where after emergency treatment in Leeds, Delia had been transferred.
Up until she walked into the office of the burns specialist, Gary Sutherland, a tall figure with a kindly smile, a white coat and calm, reassuring tone of voice, Ruth had no real idea of the extent of Delia’s injuries. Her hands and arms had received first degree burns which would heal in a matter of weeks but Ruth was horrified to learn she had also suffered second degree burns to one side of her face, where there was also a deep wound caused by falling on a jagged piece of glass when Barrie hit her, and even with plastic surgery, Delia would be left disfigured for the rest of her life. However, his final words on Delia’s condition gave Ruth a tremendous jolt.
Gary Sutherland looked at her kindly. “But please don’t worry about the baby. We’ve done tests and there is nothing of concern and we won’t start any plastic surgery until after it’s born.”
“Oh, my God,” Ruth gasped.
Gary Sutherland looked appalled. “Oh dear,” he said, “I am so sorry. I presumed you knew. I should never have said anything … patient confidentiality ….”
Even as her head was whirling with the information he had just imparted, Ruth felt sorry for him. The poor man looked so worried.
“It’s fine,” she said, pulling herself together. “Yes, it’s a surprise but I won’t tell her that I know. I promise.”
Unable to see Delia because she was sleeping after the first round of treatment undergone on arrival at the hospital, Ruth drove slowly back towards Leeds, lost in thought. Her mind was in turmoil as she tried to think whose baby it could be and could only come up with one answer. According to Vicky, Delia had been having an affair with Barrie since she was arrested in November and Gary Sutherland had confirmed she was about ten weeks along. Ruth felt a terrible sadness for Vicky. She would know instantly that the baby was Barrie’s. What a terrible twist of fate that her sister was carrying the child she had so longed for.
Glad that everyone was fully occupied at home
