Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama)

for a while Ruth parked up in a country lane, opened the window and listened to the birds singing in the trees and the rustle of the breeze as it wafted gently across the fields and hedgerows.  She breathed in the fresh, clean air and tried to think what to do for the best. Vicky and Charles would have to be told but not just yet.  It would be too cruel.  And what would happen to Delia in the future?  A great deal of nursing care would be necessary but she couldn’t return to Canleigh.  Delia was financially independent and would have to rely on her own resources.  Charles would never allow her home now.  Even though she was so terribly injured and her beautiful looks gone for ever, being pregnant with Barrie’s child would be enough of a reason.  Charles might forgive her for the fire, indeed he probably would, but not the affair with Barrie, resulting in his death.  He would be ever mindful of the hurt and misery it would cause Vicky.  She would be his first concern.  No, Delia had really sealed her fate and Ruth shuddered to think how she would react when she was able to take in what had happened to her.

Ruth returned to Canleigh, dreading the journey down the drive and having to pass the wreckage of Barrie’s car again.  His body had been removed overnight but the car had still been there when she had left the estate earlier.  She needn’t have worried.  The Jaguar had been taken away and estate workers were hard at work, hacking at what remained of the charred oak tree as it was now considered too dangerous to leave standing.  It would also have been a sore reminder to the family, especially Vicky, of what had occurred on that spot every time they entered or left the estate.

In Ruth’s absence, Charles had been busy and various craftsmen swarmed about the house, assessing the damage and deciding on how best to restore it and Vicky was up and dressed, sitting on the sofa by the crackling fire in the library with a large notepad and pen on her lap, writing furiously with a determined look on her face.

“Hello, Ruth,” she said, brightly.  “You’ve timed that just right as Hardy should be here any minute with coffee.  I’ve rung Barrie’s parents,” she went on.  “They are naturally distraught so I offered to help organise the funeral … there’s so much to think about … book the service in their local church, choosing the coffin, flowers, hymns … who to invite.  There’s also the death to register, the insurance to claim, his personal belongings to be packed up and sent to them … gosh, I didn’t realise there was so much to do … it’s going to be next week … would you … would you mind coming with me, Ruth  . . .  please?  I don’t think I can go on my own and I don’t want to ask Father.”

They travelled down to Oxford the following week.  Alex had wanted to join them but was unable to find a relief manager for the club.  Since the family had returned to Canleigh he had rung Vicky every morning, ostensibly to report on what was happening with the business, but really to check on her and for the joy of hearing her voice.  Ruth had been pleased to see how these phone calls cheered Vicky up and how she emitted a growing glow of happiness after the two had spoken.

Having given the matter of Richard’s car some thought, Vicky decided she and Ruth could drive it down to the funeral in Oxford and as Ruth was happy to return to Leeds by train, could continue on to London with it so it could be sold, as she had promised her father.  Feeling stronger after a few days at Canleigh and with the knowledge that she would never have to face Barrie again, she also wanted to return to the flat, remove all of his belongings and then rent it out, unable to bear living there again.  Alex was offering to share his flat with her for the time being and she wanted to return to work and get on with her life.

The funeral was an ordeal.  Barrie’s mother, a short dumpy little woman with permed grey hair, dressed in a smart black suit and low-heeled black leather court shoes, fussed over Vicky relentlessly, having no idea what unhappiness the girl had endured at the hands of her son.  Luckily, Vicky’s bruises and mouth had healed and she bore no outwardly signs of the terrible beating she had received at his hands.

After a tense couple of hours in the presence of Barrie’s parents and relatives, Vicky and Ruth managed to slip away, making the excuse that Ruth had a train to catch.  Standing on the platform, waiting for the train to come in, Vicky kissed Ruth goodbye.

“Thank you so much, Ruth, for all you’ve done … especially for me.  I couldn’t have managed to get through the past few weeks without you.  You’ve been an absolute brick and Father made the best decision of his life when he married you.”

Ruth hugged her hard.  “Thank you.  That’s a lovely thing to say.  Now you look after yourself.  If you want us for anything you know where we are … although I have a funny feeling you will be looked after very well by Alex,” she grinned.  Vicky grinned back but didn’t comment.

As Ruth sat on the train, heading back up north, she felt relieved to think that Alex would look after Vicky to the best of his ability and looked forward to hearing they were officially a couple sometime in the future.  The family needed some good news desperately and Ruth knew Charles liked Alex immensely and would be delighted … and Vicky would need Alex badly when informed Delia was pregnant