“Think about it Delia, please. Vicky is already heartbroken after being told she can’t have children … and traumatised by recent events. If you go through with this you will cause her incredible heartache. Do you really want to bring a living reminder into the world at such a dreadful time for her and don’t you think you’ve already heaped enough misery onto her … having an affair with her husband … and what you both did to her at the flat?”
Delia shifted uncomfortably in the bed and her eyes couldn’t quite meet Ruth’s. Gaining strength from Delia’s unease, Ruth continued.
“There’s still time, Delia. They could probably do the operation here … and no-one need ever know. I promise I shan't say a word. Please. You can’t possibly hate Vicky that much.”
Delia sat still, her whole body rigid with defiance. “You must be joking. I could spit on the whole accursed, nauseating family … you included. Not one of you gives a jot for my welfare so why the hell should I be any different? And as for the child … I’m keeping it and that’s final. Now that I’m physically revolting,” she waved a hand at the dressing on her face, “what chance do I have of ever being married and having a child? I’ll be bloody lucky to get a man into bed ever again … and then he’ll have to be blindfolded. So, my chances of getting pregnant again are pretty remote, wouldn’t you say?”
“But …,” Ruth protested, beginning to panic. Delia was a much stronger character than her and she knew she was out of her depth but she had to keep trying … for Vicky … for Charles. “Have you thought this through properly? You’re bitter at the moment, of course you are. I can understand that but think about what you are doing. You’ll destroy Vicky … and your father. What about him? Don’t you care how he feels? Deep down he loves you, Delia … and I am sure in time he will try and forgive you ….”
“That pompous bastard! It’s all his bloody fault that I’m the way I am. Please don’t elaborate … spare me the mushy rubbish. That man wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t clap eyes on me again. Blimey, he has fooled you if you think he has any kind feelings towards me. You’re thicker than I thought. No, step-mother dear, you are deluding yourself. I told the old bastard I would dance on his grave and I will. He began to destroy my life years ago and has continued in the same vein and I’ll do nothing, nothing whatsoever to make his life any easier. I’m having this child and you can all rot in hell!”
A gasp from the doorway made Ruth and Delia turn. Charles was leaning on the door. He looked exhausted and his face was white with anger. Ruth closed her eyes for a brief second, willing this conversation not to have taken place, exceedingly fearful of what this could do to him.
“You’ll never change, will you?” Charles said quietly, his eyes fixed on his daughter. “I had actually hoped your present predicament might have softened you but no. I can see you’re still the arrogant, selfish, avaricious female you always were. I pity you, Delia. I really do. I came here to offer assistance and try and patch things up but it’s obviously a complete waste of my time,” he finished, turning back into the corridor.
Throwing a look of utter contempt at Delia, Ruth jumped up from her chair and made to follow him. “Now look what you’ve done,” she cried. “Christ, Delia. You know his health isn’t good ... and if you’ve placed him in more danger ....”
Ruth hurtled out of the room and down the corridor, almost colliding with a nurse pushing a drugs trolley. She rounded a corner and saw Charles near the exit doors. He was slumped on a seat. His face was grey and he looked twenty years older.
“Just take me home, Ruth,” he said. “I really don’t think I feel well enough to drive.”
CHAPTER 36 CANLEIGH - APRIL 1974
“You’re not going back to Canleigh until a doctor has looked at you,” commanded Ruth, shocked by how frail Charles appeared.
“This isn’t an Accident and Emergency hospital, Ruth. I can’t bother any of the doctors here and anyway, there’s nothing wrong that a good nights’ rest won’t sort out. I’m just tired, that’s all. Let’s just get home … please.”
Ruth left her little Fiat run-around in the hospital car park and they journeyed back to Canleigh in the Rolls with her at the wheel. Charles sat in the passenger seat with his eyes closed and didn’t say a word. Ruth glanced at him every few seconds, desperately worried and cursing Delia under her breath, wishing he hadn’t heard her dreadful tirade. It had obviously hurt him badly and she had to get him home as quickly as possible and into bed. Then she was going to call one of the doctors from Dr. Arnold’s practice to have a look at him.
Ruth drove as quickly as she could, cursing under her breath at every traffic light, every learner driver, every obstacle that slowed their progress. It was home time for every school throughout Wakefield. Hordes of parents arriving on foot or by car to collect their precious offspring cluttered up the pavements and the roads. Lollipop ladies seemed to spring from nowhere to stop all the traffic. Ruth wanted to scream with frustration until there was a clear run up to the M1 motorway when she could put her foot down, throwing the car into the outer lane and passing cars at a furious pace, uncaring of the speed limit. She really didn’t like the look of Charles. His breathing was harsh, his
