“He’s just washing his hands. He’ll join us in a minute. Sit down, Charles. Lunch is ready.”
He did as he was told, allowing the soothing atmosphere of Constance’s kitchen to envelop him. It was always the same. Any tensions faded when in this room. Constance’s cheery personality, the aga, the rocking chair, the dogs, content in their baskets, the aroma of delicious food and freshly ground coffee. It was a sanctuary from the outside world and all its problems. He began to relax.
Ralph Kershaw, now in his fifty-eighth year, strode into the kitchen; a tall man of military bearing. There were a few grey hairs remaining on his virtually bald head and his face was weather-beaten, a tribute to his love of the outdoor life. His working clothes of dark brown corduroy trousers and a check short-sleeve shirt were of good quality but well worn. He had taken his boots off in the hall and entered the kitchen in his slippers, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe.
“Ralph!” Constance warned.
Startled out of his reverie, Ralph glanced at Constance and then at her accusing look at his pipe.
“I am so sorry, my dear. I quite forgot myself.”
Constance and Charles smiled at each other as Ralph strode outside to lay his pipe down in the old ashtray he kept on an old mounting block not far from the kitchen door.
“Obviously a lot on his mind,” commented Charles, watching Constance dishing up the omelette and passing him his plate.
“Help yourself to salad and bread, Charles,” she offered as Ralph re-entered the kitchen.
“How’s young Delia today?” he asked, settling himself into his chair at the head of the table.
“Much the same,” replied Charles dolefully.
“Give her time, Charles. Give her time.”
“That’s what everyone says. But how much time? It’s been a few weeks now and I know you both say you are happy to have her here but I still feel it’s such an imposition.”
“Forget it, Charles. We love her and we will do anything we can to help get her back to her old self, “said Ralph, buttering his bread. “I was hoping to have a game of chess with you this afternoon but I have a couple of young hopefuls who have booked lessons thinking they are the next top show jumpers so I shan’t be free till this evening.”
Charles smiled. “I have plenty to do at Canleigh and I haven’t written a word since …,” he broke off.
“You need to get back to your work, Charles,” said Constance quickly. “Stop worrying about Delia and think about yourself. You’ve had a horrible time lately and you should be kind to yourself. You love writing and you should get back to it. Lose yourself in it as fast as you can. It will do you the world of good.”
Ralph nodded in agreement. He badly wanted to get Delia back on her feet and bring a smile to Charles’s face after what Margaret had done to the family. Charles had never spoken about Margaret’s dalliances but Ralph had guessed and it would have been a miracle anyway if she hadn’t been up to no good with the amount of time she spent away from the estate and gallivanting around the world. It was blatantly obvious she had never loved Charles and was only after what she could get. So Ralph had decided a long time ago to keep his counsel and that if things did go badly wrong he and Constance would just have to be there to help pick up the pieces … and that time was now.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, piling salad on his plate. “Perhaps Star could help.”
“How do you mean?” asked Charles.
“Constance sits Delia by the window every afternoon. If we move Star up to my stables, I can get one of the grooms, or even Philip, when he is back from school, to walk Star by the house. If Delia sees her pony it might just make her want to get on him again.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Charles with a tiny glimmer of hope. “I know we all talk to her about Star but actually seeing him might just jolt her into wanting to get outside and ride. Quite frankly anything is worth a try at this stage.”
“I’m sure it will do Philip good too,” remarked Constance. “He’s lost all interest in riding since Delia arrived. He spends all his free time with her. As soon as he’s washed and dressed in the morning, he takes up her breakfast tray and sits with her until it is time for school. When he comes home he does his homework by her side and stays there until bedtime. He needs to get back out in the fresh air so bringing Star here will help him too if he thinks it will help Delia.”
“I’ll instruct Perkins to bring Star over this afternoon,” said Charles, eager to get their plan into action as fast as possible. “Does Delia talk to Philip at all?” he asked.
Constance shook her head. “It upsets him dreadfully. You know how close those two are.”
“It’s a damned shame,” muttered Ralph bitterly, spearing a lettuce leaf with his fork. “But that girl is young and healthy and a very determined young lady. She’ll bounce back eventually.”
“Yes, once she gets her head around what has happened and learns to forgive herself, she will be fine,” remarked Constance, putting a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. She was quite worried about him. He was looking much older than he was and worry lines had appeared on his brow. She had also seen him biting his bottom lip quite often lately, something he only did when under great stress.
A companionable silence settled on the group as they ate and Charles thought about all the meals
