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

stupid presents back with her.  That dreadful stuffed horse she gave me at Easter was fine for a child of five.  She seems to forget I’m thirteen.”  Delia grimaced.  “Yet another present for Granny to give to Battersea Dogs Home for their next charity event.”

Richard laughed.  “But she did give me Herbert a few years ago … and he is useful.”

Philip and Delia giggled, remembering Richard’s look of delight when he had opened the gold papered package and found a full-sized skeleton inside.  Eight-year old Vicky had been in the room at the time and had screamed and screamed and shot down to the library to cry hysterically to their father that Richard had a dead body in his room.

“Do you remember how cross Granny was?” said Delia.  “I thought she was going to explode at Mother as Vicky got the creeps and wouldn’t sleep at Canleigh and had to spend a few days at the Dower House to get over her fright.  I know Granny is made of stern stuff with her Victorian attitude but underneath all that, she has a squashy, lovely inner core.  I hope she lives until she’s really, really old so that I will be too and won’t die long after her.  I love her so much and can’t imagine life without her.”

Philip and Richard looked at Delia sympathetically, knowing how close and alike Delia and Anne were, which was probably why they had a special bond.  They laughed at the same things, had almost the same opinion on about anything which crept up in conversation and above all shared an intense passion for Canleigh.

“It must have been very hard for her,” mused Richard.  “After Grandfather died … bringing up Father from the age of ten, running Canleigh, having it turned into a military hospital during the war and training to be a nurse herself and worrying about Father bombing the Germans … and then when he was shot down, being holed up in Colditz.  She must have been desperately worried.”

“Granny is a tremendously strong person.  She would have coped admirably.  She is simply splendid,” stated Delia firmly.

“Splendid she might be but she can’t make cake and lemonade like Philip’s Nan,” said Richard.  “Should we get cracking?  I could really do with some of that lemonade and I expect the dogs and horses want some water.”

“Good idea,” said Delia, salivating at the thought of the promised cake.  She possessed a dreadful addiction to chocolate in whatever form and the amount of it she consumed on a daily basis would certainly change the body shape of anyone who wasn’t as active as her.

“I mustn’t stay too long though,” she said to Philip.  “I promised I would take the dogs back to the Dower House for five o’clock and feed them.”

“Your Granny is a marvel.  How she puts up with this lot I really don’t know,” said Philip, laughing as the three mongrels charged towards the teenagers and jumped all over him, adding paw marks to his white t-shirt, licking his face and the more he laughed, the more they made sure he needed a decent wash. Delia giggled at their antics and agreed with him.

Freckles and her offspring finally decided Philip was clean enough and set off in pursuit of a rabbit who had dared to venture out of its warren further down the field but the rabbit was quicker than them and disappeared back down its hole seconds before they reached it. The teenagers mounted their ponies and turned them in the direction of Tangles, not surprised when the dogs decided it was too much effort to keep searching for the runaway rabbit and followed them.

*   *   *

Delia felt rather sickly in the searing heat as she and Richard rode sedately to the Dower House from Tangles after tucking into too much of the chocolate cake.  It had been truly delicious and she hadn’t been able to resist having a second large slice.  Now she wished she hadn’t been so greedy.

Reaching the Dower House, they fed and watered the dogs and left them to sleep until the Dowager returned.

“I do hope it’s not so hot tomorrow,” said Richard, his face shiny with sweat as they walked the ponies back to Canleigh.  “I’m certainly not riding again if it is.  I shall spend the day around the pool.  I’ve lots of reading to catch up on this hols and I don’t want to leave it till the last minute before we go back to school.”

“Oh, you are so boring,” snapped Delia, her tummy doing somersaults, although she would never admit it to her twin, determined to never show any signs of weakness in front of him.

“And you are very rude,” he replied as they reached the field at the side of the stables where the ponies could be released to enjoy good grazing and hopefully cool down under the shade of the oak trees.  They let them free, checking first that there was plenty of water for them in the container by the gate and left them to it.

They walked back to the stables carrying the saddles and bridles and hung them in the tack room.  Delia loved the smell of the room, the leather, and the saddle soap.  She had spent many a happy hour there with Perkins, chatting about the horses and their care.  It had been Perkins who had taught her to ride when she was small and she was very fond of the elderly man who had been so patient with her headstrong ways, wanting to gallop before she had learnt to trot.

“This room reeks of horses,” uttered Richard, “I don’t know why you want to spend so much time in here.”

“Oh, for goodness sake.  I don’t know how you will manage when you eventually become Duke and are lucky enough to own all this,” she swept her arms around