Free The Tangling of the Web by Millie Gray

Maybe, she thought, it was just their firstborn Margo flying the nest that was getting to him. Sally shrugged. Or more likely that it was her refusal to ask Josie to give up the basement flat so that Margo could move in when she married.
    Why couldn’t they understand, she wondered, that for me to have put out Josie would reinforce the feelings of rejection that Josie has felt all her life. True, she lives in cloud cuckoo land, but how else could she have survived the abusive childhood she had endured if she had not had a means of escape? Sally sniffed back her tears. And after all, it could be the making of over-indulged Margo when she has to live in a cramped bedroom at her mother-in-law’s guddle of a house. But then rumour has it that Ella Souter, who had been widowed by the war, is a gallus, accommodating lady – but hasn’t sunk as far as the ladies of the night who frequent the Four Marys bar to make a living – no, she is more a ‘must be at a party every night’ and ‘new lover every season’.
    With bile rising in her throat, Sally finally recalled how she was forced to concede that Margo’s wedding would be a day to remember. This had come about when only a week after Harry had given his promise to Margo he had breezed in and, doing a jig around the room, announced that his darling daughter would not only drive in state from the church to the Albyn Rooms on her wedding day, but instead of it being on a Monday hadn’t Ginny offered to accommodate them on a Saturday. This statement not only astonished Sally but caused her sleepless nights, wondering why Ginny was being so benevolent.
    Margo had insisted that Bobby, her thirteen-year-old brother, be her chief usher, whilst relegating her fourteen-year-old sister, Helen, from bridesmaid to flower girl. The reasoning behind this was that Margo thought Helen, whom she considered to be less attractive than herself, had what her granny called ‘a gift from the gods’ – charisma – so she was afraid her younger sister would take attention away from her. Sally was still reminiscing about this when she felt a touch on her arm.
    Looking up into Bobby’s green eyes, she was pleased that everyone in attendance would be able to see how he resembled his dad. He had Harry’s athletic build – true, his hair was fairer than Harry’s, but it did have the same curly kinks. She smiled when she remembered that only yesterday he had told her that having to have your shoes built up was all the rage now. Even his pal, Ron, had bought some platform-soled shoes – in Ron’s case it was to make him seem taller than his five feet three inches. ‘Mum, are you listening to me?’ Sally nodded when she realised he was asking her to accompany him to the back of the church. Rising to follow him, she became aware that throughout the congregation a whispering had started – she knew they were speculating as to why she had been summoned.
    As the click-click-clicking of her heels echoed ominously on the church floor, she felt panic rising in her breast. What is wrong? Has Margo at last come to her senses and decided that life with the Souters won’t suit her? Or, more likely … ? Now she had allowed her fertile imagination to take control, Sally found herself breaking into a run for the last few yards. This was because she now believed the problem wasn’t with Margo but with Harry! Oh yes , she screamed inwardly, Dr Hannah was wrong when he advised me that Harry was as fit as a fiddle and now … and now. Oh no, please God, don’t let him be like his father and die long before his time.
    Bolting through the doors and into the vestibule, a tearful Sally stopped abruptly before sinking against the wall. Relief seeped in. Thankfully Harry was standing beside Margo. Sally thought he had never looked more handsome and debonair. The greying of his hair at the temples gave him an air of sophistication, and somehow he had thrived on the wedding preparations and lately he had walked