Free The Tangling of the Web by Millie Gray Page A

with an air of confidence – unlike herself, who was consumed by a feeling of impending disaster.
    ‘Mum, look at me,’ Margo pleaded. ‘What do you think? Will I do? And Mum, what if I’m not doing the right thing?’
    Sally looked to Harry for guidance, but he deliberately turned his gaze away. But then, she asked herself, has he ever taken any of the awkward family decisions? No.
    Drawing on the inner strength that up till now had never failed her, Sally took Margo’s hand in hers. ‘My darling child,’ she murmured, ‘without a doubt you are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen. And know something else?’ Dropping Margo’s hand, Sally now stepped back to get a full view of her daughter. ‘The dress and the veil,’ she mused, ‘I now admit are worth every penny. Oh aye, a right royal princess you look.’ Drawing Margo into an embrace, Sally then whispered in her ear, ‘So come on, girl, don’t you disappoint your audience. Go in there and knock them dead.’ Then to herself she said, And don’t you worry, if marrying Johnny Souter is the wrong thing for you, which I fear it might be, just come back home and I’ll arrange a divorce – quite the fashionable thing to do these days so I’m told.

    It came as a surprise to Sally that the wedding, with such diverse guests, was an outstanding success. She knew the meal provided by the Albyn chefs would be something most guests would savour and talk about for weeks to come. The only complaint about the food came from Margo’s new mother-in-law. Ella, who gave the impression she was truly upstairs when in reality the deluded soul had never got her foot above the first step, had asked in a voice that could be heard at the foot of Leith Walk, ‘Why have we been served half-cooked sirloin steaks, crème caramels and coffee in ridiculous wee cups when everybody with an ounce of breeding kens it’s steak pie, sherry trifle and a cup of strong Lipton’s tea that is served up at decent weddings?’
    The night had progressed into a typical good Leith knees-up. The Master of Ceremonies knew his job. He had expertly judged the guests and therefore the dances were mainly waltzes and Scottish reels. For the first dance after the bride and groom and their attendants had taken the floor, Harry bowed to Ella before steering her onto the floor. The second dance he should have had with Sally, but as he progressed over the floor towards her, Ginny jumped in front of Sally and Maggie and said, ‘Oh now Harry, how did you know my favourite dance is a Gay Gordons, especially when I’m asked up by a handsome, debonair man?’ Embarrassed at being wrong-footed, all Sally could do was to start fulfilling her hostess duties. Fixing a smile on her face, she called at each table and thanked everybody individually for coming and sharing the family’s happy day.
    No one, not even Ella, could say they did not enjoy the festivities, and when Harry got up to serenade the assembly he had to wait for two minutes until the applause stopped. However, instead of starting straight into his song, Sally felt a lump rise in her throat when he went over to Margo, who had now changed into her going-away outfit, and taking her hand in his he began to sing, ‘I’m Walking Behind You on Your Wedding Day’.

    It was just after one o’clock in the morning when Sally, Flora, Helen, Bobby and Josie got home. Poor Harry had bundled them into a taxi, but he had to wait behind mainly because he said he would have to help the staff with the tidying up but beside that five was the limit for travellers in a taxi.
    Harry was surprised when he arrived home at four o’clock that Sally was still waiting up for him. She had felt that she had to spend some time with him. After all, it had been a big day for them – their firstborn becoming a married woman. Sally smiled as she remembered that even although they had been together all day they never had seemed to find time to talk to each other. That was