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

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Canleigh was a hive of activity for the next few weeks.  All the furnishings and much of the furniture in the rooms affected by the fire were disposed of and once the walls and floor thoroughly cleaned, carpenters and painters were busily working there every day.  Ruth’s task was to choose new colours and fabrics for all of the rooms, apart from Delia’s.

“I don’t know what we should do with her rooms,” said Charles one evening as they sat together in the library after dinner.  “As cross as I am with Delia, once she’s discharged from hospital, I suppose she should come home, so should they be restored to how they were before the fire or should we give them a completely new look?”

Ruth studied him under her lashes.  She still hadn’t told him Delia was pregnant but it couldn’t be left much longer.  Once Delia left the sanctuary of her private ward at the hospital it would be plain for all to see that she was going to have a baby.  It was going to be a terrible shame to shatter their present peace but it was going to have to be done and now might be a good time.  Charles was relaxed after dinner and had nothing to do for the rest of the evening apart from retire to bed.  If his blood pressure was going to be raised, this was the best time to do it.

“I’m afraid Delia has more to contend with than her injuries,” she said quietly, crossing her fingers under her leg, praying for the strength to tell him what she had to.

“Oh?”  He looked at her enquiringly.

Ruth gulped and then took his hand, wishing fervently she didn’t have to tell him such shocking news.

“She’s pregnant,” she said simply.

Charles didn’t say a word.  He sat, watching the flames flickering in the fireplace and Ruth began to wonder if he had heard her.  “Charles ….”

“I heard you,” he said, wearily wiping his hand across his brow.  “And do we know who the father is?”

“Not for certain as we don’t know what she has been up to … but I have a nasty suspicion it might be Barrie.  She’s been having an affair with him ever since he helped her with bail.”

Charles stood up and went to the fireplace, stared at the flickering flames for a couple of minutes and then turned to face Ruth, a look of anguish on his face which broke her heart.  She would have done anything to spare him this.

“If it is Barrie’s, she can never come back here, Ruth.  Not anymore.  It hurts me more than anyone will ever know to have to say it but she simply can’t, whatever she says or does to try to wriggle out of what she has done.  God,” he turned to stare at the portrait of the Dowager over the fireplace, “I am so glad Mother isn’t here to witness any of this.  She would be horrified that her precious Delia could behave as badly as she has.  Delia was always her favourite, you know.  They were like peas in a pod really.  Delia idolised her and if she hadn’t died so early on in Delia’s life, none of this would have happened.  She would have been able to steer Delia away from doing all the rotten things she has done … unlike me.  I don’t know where I have gone wrong but I certainly haven’t been the father I should.”

“Charles … please … none of this is your fault … you can’t blame yourself.”

“Oh, but I do, Ruth.  I abandoned Delia here, after her mother left and my mother died.  The girl had a breakdown and although the Kershaw’s were brilliant and looked after her at Tangles for me, I should have remained here for her instead of vanishing up to Blairness.  I only considered my own grief.  I was selfish and abandoned my child when she needed me most.”

“From what you’ve told me before, she refused to speak to you.  She blamed you for turning Margaret out of Canleigh and for your mother’s fatal stroke.  You said yourself Dr. Arnold said it was best to leave her at Tangles where she was loved and well cared for to give her a chance to get over it.”

“Yes, that’s perfectly true but even after I returned, we never talked about any of it.  I tried … more than once … but she blanked me every time.  She would find some excuse to leave the room.  Anything to avoid it.  She put up an impenetrable wall around herself and just wouldn’t allow me in.  I hate to say it but I gave up then.  It was obvious she was happier at Tangles than she was at Canleigh with me so I agreed that she should remain there until she wanted to return to Canleigh while I shut myself away at Blairness.  It seemed the right thing to do at the time.  She was happier without me … or so I thought but I should have insisted she remain here with me.  I should have been stronger, more fatherly, than I was … should have got much closer to her … to all of them I suppose.  I have been a useless father for years.  It was wonderful when they were little.  We had such fun … I always felt I had to make up for Margaret’s lack of interest so Mother and I did all we could … we had some wonderful days out at the coast, fabulous picnics, lots of laughter … building special memories … then it all went so horribly wrong … and has continued to do so … so yes, Ruth, I do blame myself.  I took my eye off the ball once Mother died and Margaret disappeared off to goodness knows where with