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

“You don’t know what you will be missing,” murmured Delia, gazing up at Barrie adoringly, totally ignoring her younger sister.

Richard was appalled and watched with disquiet as the already unsettled evening was threatening to become a complete disaster.  The last thing Vicky needed was a massive blow to her confidence and self-esteem.  She had recovered well from the anorexia but stress could easily set it off again and then there was Father.  Charles, with his heart condition, had to be careful and watch his blood pressure and it was definitely rising now.  He looked positively thunderous and about to explode at any moment.

Richard stood up and moved to Delia’s side.  “Why don’t you go to bed?  Come on.  I’ll come up with you, tuck you up … even read you a story,” he joked.  “Just as I used to when we were kids … remember?”

“I’m going for a ride.  Demon and I are going to gallop off into your precious sunset,” she replied, angrily wiping away a tear before it ran down her face, remembering all the beautiful evenings she and Philip had ridden out together to sit at the south gates and watch the sun sink slowly.  Who would do that with her now?

Ruth was moved to pity by the anguish in Delia’s face.  It must have been a harrowing experience, being jilted, especially just before the wedding and simply galling to have to pretend to be okay when her heart must be breaking.  No wonder Delia was behaving badly.  To have suddenly become all alone after being one of a pair for so long must be incredibly difficult.  With a sudden rush of sympathy, Ruth knelt down beside her.

“Would you like me to come up with you, Delia?  I would be quite happy to.”

Delia stood up abruptly, sweeping Ruth aside and almost knocking her to the floor.  If Barrie hadn’t grabbed her, she would have gone flying across the Aubusson carpet.

“Go to hell the lot of you!” Delia yelled.  “None of you really care about me, you never have!”

With that she dashed out of the room, banging the door behind her.

CHAPTER 17

CANLEIGH – JUNE 1972

Ruth couldn’t sleep.  The events of the evening kept her mind alert and active and eventually, not bothering to slip on a dressing gown as it was so warm, she slid out of bed to sit by the south facing open window in her thin, white cotton nightdress.

There was a half moon, throwing eerie shadows across the gardens below and in the distance it was just possible to see the lake shimmering softly.  A light, cool breeze fanned Ruth’s warm body nicely.  It soothed her, as did the faint rustlings of the trees, disturbed by the soft wind.  An owl hooted, from the direction of the stables a horse whinnied and even though the Hall was a distance from the main road, Ruth heard a car cruise past, blaring its horn loudly as it travelled through Canleigh village towards Leeds.

Her thoughts turned, as they had far too often, to her ‘problem’.  Nearly three years had been spent studying medicine and in all that time Ruth knew it wasn’t for her.  She was pathetic and should have been stronger and firmer with her overbearing parents who were determined to steer their daughter in the only direction they considered right but it was always easiest to agree with their wishes … and the wisest course of action to take to avoid friction.

Ruth thought about her parents.  They were in partnership with two other general practitioners, running a frantically busy and expanding surgery in Reading, which they wanted Ruth to join.  They were totally committed to their calling and wrapped up in each other.  Ruth, on her arrival in the world, was an unwelcome intrusion and having given birth, her mother promptly employed a nanny and returned to work.  Childhood was a lonely experience.  After making one mistake her parents had no intentions of making another and her mother arranged a sterilisation as soon as it was physically possible, preventing her only child from having any siblings with which to play and confide.  Conversations at home were adult and dull, confined to medical matters and Ruth’s future career in that field.  There was no other path to follow as far as they were concerned and if Ruth should happen to state a wish to be employed in some other occupation it was swiftly dismissed as a childish whim and not to be taken seriously.

When Ruth obtained A-levels in chemistry, maths, physics and biology, enabling her to study medicine at Oxford they were overjoyed and it was good to bask in their pleasure at her achievements.  The first two years at medical school hadn’t been too bad, concentrating on pre-clinical work.  She enjoyed the instruction in anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, psychology, medical sociology and the basics of pathology and pharmacology.  In fact, Ruth was relatively happy, making many friends, including Richard, and enjoyed the first real interest her parents took in her now she was actually doing something positive towards their goal of having her work with them.

Then the three-year clinical course commenced and Ruth was plunged into an environment in which she felt ill at ease.  She disliked being attached to a ‘firm’ of two consultants, senior registrar, registrar, senior house officer, and a newly qualified house officer.  Following them around for hours on end, permanently on her feet, having never ending questions fired at her, witnessing the patients’ humiliation as they were pummelled, poked and prodded by nervous medical students was definitely not her cup of tea.

Ruth hated every minute of it and knew she had to get out and the longer she left it the more stressed, irritable and nervous she became but the very idea of telling her parents turned her blood to water.  They would disown her.  She would be a non-person