Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) by Carole Williams (positive books to read .TXT) 📗

estate matters and his writing, he always found time to join the children two or three times a day for an hour and on weekends, he and Anne, with one of the nursery maids, would pop them into the Rolls and drive across to the beach at either Filey or Scarborough.  They would all come home, tired, flushed and happy and although Charles always invited her on these trips, Margaret regularly declined, unable to see the attraction of sitting on a chilly beach digging sandcastles and eating sandwiches while beating off flies and seagulls.

However, even though Charles was remote and distant, he was incredibly generous and deposited thousands into her personal bank account every month.  It was a real novelty to have so much money of her own and gave her immense pleasure to be able to buy what she wanted whenever she wanted, even though it was rare for her to go further than Leeds or Harrogate to spend it.  With nothing else to occupy her, Margaret’s days were filled with pampering sessions at the best beauty salons in the area.  She read numerous fashion magazines and endured dress fittings for dresses she might never wear, as they didn’t entertain and accepted very few invitations.  She regularly shopped in Harrogate, visited the famous Turkish Baths for a few hours, and enjoyed afternoon tea at the Old Swan hotel before ringing for Perkins or Hardy to collect her.

Then, when Delia and Richard were five and Victoria was three years old, she decided to visit London on the pretext of buying Christmas presents.  Charles had no objection and she spent a fantastic weekend at the Savoy and explored every floor of Harrods.  She visited the children’s’ section first and bought three rocking horses, dolls for Delia and Victoria with a variety of outfits and an electric train for Richard; lots of books and games were also thrown in.  Satisfied she had shown willing as far as the children were concerned, she purchased a gold paperknife for Charles and a gold watch for Anne.  Then she turned full attention on herself; adding furs, handbags and shoes to her purchases.

She journeyed back to Canleigh feeling elated and far happier than she had for a very long time.  Charles hadn’t objected to more trips to London and as the years progressed, she went more and more until it was a long weekend every couple of months.  She didn’t associate with anyone while she was there as she had no real desire to renew any kind of relationship with her old acquaintances and had never made any real long-term friends at school.  She just revelled in the freedom from Charles, Anne, the children and Canleigh.

Then, three years ago, while deliberating on whether to buy a gorgeous pair of black stilettos in Harrods, she bumped into Lady Amelia Manderville, whom she had met prior to her marriage while doing the rounds of balls and parties with Aunt Sarah.  A white gloved hand was placed on her shoulder and Margaret turned to see a grown-up version of the silly young woman she had known years ago.

“Margaret!  How wonderful to see you again.  We really must have a coffee and catch up.”

From that moment Margaret’s life began to change and although she didn’t know it at the time, the meeting would lead to her ultimate downfall.

CHAPTER 4

 

LONDON – JUNE 1964

The carriage door slammed back, causing Margaret to jump out of her reverie.

“We’ve only half an hour to go before we reach Kings Cross, Your Grace.  Is there anything else you require?” asked the waiter, finding it hard to keep his eyes on Margaret’s face.

She looked at him languidly.  The gin had soothed her superior air.  She crossed her long, well-tanned, bare legs.  The white strappy sandals on her feet accentuated the scarlet polished nails on her toes.  She watched his face, turning pink, as his eyes widened and grew darker as they followed her movements.  He swallowed.

“No, thank you,” she said, dragging out the words, enjoying his reaction.  She wondered what he would say if she drew down the blinds of the carriage and ravaged him, using him as a practice session before she turned her full attention to Simon later this evening.  Then she looked at the paunch of his belly stretching his white jacket to the limit and his fat, fleshy fingers and the desire dampened immediately.

Desperate now to get rid of him she snapped.  “I said, No.  Thank you.”

He almost sneered at her as he turned and slammed the carriage door shut behind him.

*   *   *

Margaret lit another cigarette and returned to her musings, remembering that encounter with Amelia and how her life became more exciting almost immediately.

In her teens, Amelia had been a simpering blonde-headed fly-by-night who always looked immaculate but didn’t seem to have a brain in her head.  She hadn’t changed much, just added a few fine lines to her pale and pasty face, her blue eyes shone just as vividly and her long blonde hair was curled into a French pleat.  She wore a pearl necklace and earrings, a white suit by Dior, Gucci black patent shoes, and carried a matching clutch handbag.

“It’s so lovely to see you,” Amelia cooed.  “We thought your gorgeous husband must have done away with you as no-one has heard from you or seen you since your marriage.  How long are you here for, darling?  Are you free this evening?   We’re having a small gathering for Archie’s fortieth; dinner, followed by a bit of a dance and then fireworks at midnight.  Oh, do say you’ll come.  You will know mostly everyone from our debutante days and it’s going to be such fun.”

Margaret had winced.  She had never liked Amelia very much as the woman could never stop talking; mostly about inconsequential things, rarely let anyone else get a word in and bored everyone around her to