Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama), Carole Williams [ebook reader 8 inch .TXT] 📗

Ruth felt a mixture of relief and disappointment that Charles wouldn’t be in the pool and as he would have breakfast before them and then they were going riding she probably wouldn’t bump into him again until this evening.  She wondered what he would do with himself all day.  Write his novel, she assumed, especially now there was no wedding to organise.

They ventured down into the main hall and through a door at the rear which took them straight into the changing rooms adjacent to the swimming pool.  There were four large cubicles, all with their own shower and toilet with a pile of fluffy white bath towels and a generous supply of expensive sweet-smelling shampoo, conditioner, shower gel and moisturiser for after their swim.

Leaving her bathrobe in the changing room Richard indicated was for her use, Ruth self-consciously walked through to the pool and slipped into the warm water, instantly relaxing as it washed over her.  Richard, a strong swimmer, was doing the crawl and reached the far end in seconds, smiled at her and headed back to the shallow end.  Ruth waited for him, allowing herself to get used to the feel of being in the water.  It was ages since she had been swimming and having seen Richard’s prowess, knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him.  She had plenty of stamina and could keep going for a long time but could only do the breaststroke.  As Richard reached her, she stretched out her arms in front of her, placed her feet against the side of the pool, firmly pushed away and cruised along slowly, enjoying the seductive feel of the water lapping around her face and neck, caressing her gently.  Richard flashed past her quickly, reached the end and passed her again, grinning as he came up for air.  She smiled back.  This was washing away all her tension, although the exercise was making her hungry and she looked forward to a breakfast, which was sure to be excellent and plentiful.

They slipped easily into their own worlds as they journeyed up and down the pool for a few more lengths.  Richard gave up first and waited patiently for Ruth to finish her final length and join him at the shallow end.

“Well, has that woken you up?” he joked.  “How did you sleep last night by the way?  Well, I hope.”

“Remarkably well,” she replied, having already decided she could never tell him about Delia’s midnight visit.  The less said about that the better although Ruth wasn’t looking forward to meeting her again.  She leant back, holding the sides of the pool and did cycling movements in the water with her legs.

“What a wonderful start to the day.  It must be lovely to be able to do this every day.”

“Well, there is a pool in Oxford … or I believe there are a couple of hotels with pools you can use … for a nice fee of course.”

“I know but it’s an effort finding the time to get there and back and this is just so fabulous, being able to walk straight out here and then head in for breakfast.  What luxury.”

“Talking of food,” he said, “are you hungry now because if you’re not, I certainly am.”

“Oh, I’m famished,” she said quickly, suddenly wanting to get out of the water and go in search of sustenance.

“Great.  Let’s have a shower and get into the dining room then.  I’m dying for a coffee. You can leave your swimsuit in the green box by your cubicle door.  One of the staff will wash and dry it and then put it back in your room when it’s ready.”

“How nice,” replied Ruth, thinking how lovely it was to be waited on.  It was a different world from that in Oxford, or at her parent’s house come to that.

Breakfast was divine.  The array of succulent bacon, sausages, fried and scrambled eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, along with kippers and fresh salmon Hardy had displayed on the enormous Chippendale sideboard set Ruth’s tummy rumbling as soon as they entered the dining room.  The aroma of coffee and fresh homemade bread was more than welcome and then there were cereals, fresh melon, strawberries and grapes.

They helped themselves and sat down near to each other, just as Vicky entered the room.

“Morning both,” she announced gaily, helping herself to a small portion of cereal and a few strawberries.  “What are you two up to today?”

“We’re riding as soon as we’ve finished,” said Richard.

“Oh, jolly dee,” replied Vicky, sitting down next to Ruth.  “I hate riding,” she told her, “and horses … nasty, smelly creatures who bite and kick.  Yuk.  Give me a fast car any day if you want speed and excitement.”

Ruth laughed.  “Well, I can ride but am not particularly good at it.  I haven’t ridden for years and will be quite happy to plod along slowly.  Anything more than a trot and I shall probably fall off.”

Richard grinned.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll put you on my old Dolly.  She just ambles along at her own pace.  It’s no good trying to get her to move very fast these days,” remembering how he used to canter along on her when he was younger.

“I presume Father has been and gone,” remarked Vicky, pouring herself a coffee from the pot on the table.  She drank it neat, no sugar or milk for her.

“Yes,” said Richard.  “We just missed him and it doesn’t look as if Barrie or Delia have ventured down yet.”

Vicky laughed.  “Barrie … you must be joking.  He never gets up early.  If I don’t ring him every morning he wouldn’t make it to lectures on time … and you know Delia.  She’ll go out riding and have her breakfast when she comes home.”

Breakfast over, Richard and Ruth returned to their rooms to put