CHAPTER 6 YORKSHIRE – JUNE 1964
Happily unaware of the catastrophic events of the day ahead, Lady Delia Canleigh bounded down the wide stone steps of Canleigh Hall dressed in her vermilion school uniform.
“What a beautiful morning,” she announced, eyeing the clear blue sky and her surroundings with appreciation.
The Canleigh lawns stretched out in front of the gravelled drive, the enormous old trees in the far off woods, full to bursting with leaves, majestic in the background. Birds circled overhead and pigeons could be heard calling to each other. Delia’s heart sang with joy. She had just spent a fabulous hour riding, tore home to shower and change for school and now there was English literature to look forward to this morning and then history and music later. She wasn’t crazy about school but to have all three of her favourite subjects in one day was going to make it very bearable indeed and then, when she arrived home, she was riding with Philip and now the nights were warmer and lighter she was allowed to stay out until nine o’clock. Heaven!
Hardy, who was to drive Delia the five miles to school held open the rear door of the Rolls Royce and smiled in agreement. The Yorkshire weather had been appalling for most of May, with lots of rain and thunderstorms. However, it had brightened up and been incredibly hot for the May half-term holiday with June beginning as May had ended and the sun was already high in the sky this morning, promising another warm and fine day.
“Haven’t you forgotten something, Lady Delia?” he asked.
Delia, her long thick dark hair, which was supposed to be tied back for school but was now flowing loose, turned her dark brown eyes questioningly on the butler with his crooked nose, which he professed had been broken when trying to separate two soldiers in a drunken brawl during the war. He was dressed, as usual, in his impeccable butler’s uniform complemented by the sparkling black leather shoes, which he religiously polished every night, a habit from his army days.
“Your books,” he said helpfully.
“Oh!” Delia laughed, dashing back up the steps.
Hardy smiled. No doubt Lady Delia’s head was full of horses again. She was competing with Star in yet another show on Saturday and had talked about nothing else for days.
A short time later Delia re-appeared carrying a heavy bag which slowed her progress. She was an attractive girl; slim, tall for her age, with good bone structure, as they would say in the modelling world and masses of beautiful hair. Another few years and she would be stunning. Men would come running and Master Philip Kershaw would really have to look to his laurels if he had any serious designs on her, thought Hardy.
Delia smiled at the butler with gratitude. She would have been in serious trouble if she had arrived at school without the completed homework, finished just before midnight last night. It should have been done earlier in the evening but the draw of joining Philip earlier than usual because he hadn’t any homework for once, had been too great. Anyhow, what did it matter if she didn’t get top marks for her work, it was only maths and geography and she hated both. What was the point of learning more than how to add up, subtract, divide and multiply? As for learning about other parts of the world, she had all she wanted here at Canleigh and little desire to find out how others lived or what their countries looked like.
Apart from Scotland … Delia loved Scotland … stunningly beautiful with few people to get under one’s feet and the wonderful historic Blairness, the second best place in the world, Canleigh naturally being the first. It was delightfully exciting, living in a medieval castle for a few weeks every year, having mock battles with Richard and his friend … and Philip, of course … pretending they were fending off marauding English soldiers. Vicky and her friend never joined in. They were too lady-like for such behaviour but Delia and Richard, along with their invited guests, were allowed to ride horses borrowed from a nearby riding school which was great fun, taking picnics and exploring the surrounding countryside for hours on end.
They would have liked to spend Easter holidays at Blairness too but Father insisted on dragging them all around Italy, France and Switzerland on various cultural holidays to broaden their horizons. Although Delia could appreciate the art in the Louvre in Paris and the Uffizi in Florence, loved the gondola rides in Venice, found the Vatican fascinating and adored their rambles in the Swiss mountains, there was only one place she really wanted to be and that was Canleigh and she could never stop the grin spreading all over her place when on the return journey, the plane landed on English soil. Desperate to get back to Canleigh as soon as possible, it was so frustrating when occasionally Father insisted they stay in London for a night as he had business to attend to with Rathbones, the family solicitors, before journeying back to Yorkshire although having a night or two at the Ritz did help to soften Delia’s impatience. Father always booked a four-bedroom suite and the sheer luxury of their surroundings with the huge beds, marble bathrooms, comfortable sitting rooms, fabulous English food and, of course, the famous afternoon tea, which was a firm favourite, certainly helped to ease her restlessness.
However, as splendid and glamorous as the Ritz was, when the time came to leave it, Delia couldn’t get home fast enough. On arriving at Kings Cross and boarding the train to travel first class back to Yorkshire, her excitement would grow by the minute and when they reached Leeds and Hardy and Perkins met them with the Rolls
