The Tangling of the Web (20 page)

The lassie immediately put out her hand to Sally. ‘I’m Lois. Bobby and I are an item. But I’m sure he’s told you all about us.’

Sensing her mother’s disquiet, Helen quickly interjected. ‘Lois and Bobby are on the same course at Edinburgh University. Imagine it, before long they will both have LLBs.’

Lois’s smile was so warm that it unnerved Sally, and then she said, ‘Yes. We will both be solicitors and in time we are aiming to have our own practice.’

‘You are?’ was all Sally could stutter.

Lois nodded. ‘How do you think Hamilton and Stuart sounds?’

Sally was about to answer that she thought it would be better if they called themselves Stuart and Hamilton when the consulting-room door opened.

Proceeding over to Sally with an outstretched hand, the doctor smiled before saying, ‘As you know, your lad had a bad tumble that resulted in him fracturing his right leg, but we have X-rayed it, looked at the problem and we can, when the swelling dies down, reset it. At first he will require a heavy plaster, but after a couple of days we should be able to fit a lighter one and he can go home.’

‘Hmm. So everything’s fine?’ Sally quickly asked.

The doctor inhaled deeply and exhaled before saying, ‘Not quite. You see, there is the possibility that your son’s damaged leg will be slightly shorter.’

Sally laughed. ‘That’s alright. You see, he was born with that leg shorter than the other.’

‘No. What I mean is your son’s right leg will be slightly shorter again, maybe by a quarter of an inch, than it was before the accident.’

Sally sagged against the wall. Shorter could mean his shoe requiring more padding, and would that make his disability evident?

A long half an hour later, Sally, Helen and Lois were allowed in to visit Bobby in his ward bed.

‘You okay, son?’ was Sally’s opening remark.

Bobby nodded and put his hand out to Lois, who lifted it to her mouth and kissed it. ‘I’m fine, especially when my three favourite women are at my bedside. Mum, did you introduce yourself to Lois?’

Sally nodded.

‘Hope you’re pleased, Mum, because Lois and I are …’

‘I know: an item.’

Having just arrived home and put the kettle on, Sally was surprised when the doorbell rang continuously. ‘Hang on. I’m coming. I’m coming. Do you think I’m a steeplechaser or something?’ she called out as she ran along the hallway.

Once the door was opened, Sally was faced with Margo. ‘Oh dear, I forgot I left you with the pub to close. Have you brought the keys?’

Margo fished in her pocket for the keys before handing them to her mother.

‘I hope you’re not in a hurry, dear?’ Sally asked hopefully.

‘No. As a matter of fact, I want to talk to you.’

‘If it’s about Bobby, he’ll be fine. And did you know he was courting?’

‘Yes, and I told him that he should tell you before someone else did.’

A long, uneasy pause settled on the two women until Margo blurted, ‘Mum, a young lassie came into the bar just after you left and she scared me.’

‘Scared you? Do you mean she intimidated you? If so, you should have retaliated by threatening her with your Uncle Luke.’

‘No, she wasn’t trying to get at me. It was you she was after. Said, she did, that you were a traitor and coward.’

Sally began to chuckle. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she spluttered, unable to hide her amusement, ‘I was brought up in Leith, and Leith women are faithful and brave until the end.’ But when Sally began to grasp that Margo was taking the matter seriously, very seriously, she soberly added, ‘Okay. Now what’s this lassie’s name?’

‘Angela.’

‘But I don’t know an Angela. What’s her surname?’

‘Yorkston.’

Sally shook her head. ‘No, and that doesn’t ring a bell either.’

‘Pity that, because Mum, her parting shot was she was going to get you to confess what you did to her and more importantly … take responsibility for your actions.’

‘Is the lassie a head-banger or does she think she can frighten me into paying her off? If so, she’s in for a disappointment. Did she say when she’s coming back?

‘In three days’ time.’

Bobby had been kept in the hospital for two days, and when he was due for release, David Stock offered to pick him up in his car and take him home to Sally’s home.

When the vehicle came to a halt in Gladstone Place, Sally rushed out to help bring Bobby inside.

On hauling the front door of the car open, Sally was surprised to see Lois sitting in the back, but she did not acknowledge her.

‘Right, son,’ she began, ‘let me get a hold of your crutches so David can help you out.’

‘No need, Mum. Lois will get me on to my feet. She was practising it at the hospital before I was discharged.’

‘And what will I do?’ retorted Sally.

‘Do what you’re best at and make me some tea and toast.’

Infuriated, Sally was about to retort, ‘Making tea and toast – is that all I’m any good for?’ But then she thought the better of it. So smiling sweetly, she turned to Lois and asked, ‘And how much sweetening do you require?’

‘Sweetening – oh, you mean sugar in my tea – I don’t take any.’

‘Sweet enough is my Lois,’ Bobby said as he started to hobble on his crutches towards the house.

Two hours later, Sally was preparing to leave for the Four Marys when Bobby came into her bedroom. ‘Mum, I would like to talk to you. Get some things straight.’

‘Look, son, if you’re worrying about your leg being shorter – don’t. At the most it will only be a quarter of an inch and that will be no problem to Davidovich. Before you know it all your shoes will have been altered and nobody will be able to see the difference.’

‘I know that. And, Mum, you worry more about my leg than I do. Short by under half an inch is all that’s wrong with me now. And that’s nothing.’

Lois had now joined them and had taken up a seat on the bed. ‘Now,’ she teased, ‘I would have to agree with your mother that half an inch can make a big difference.’

Before she could respond, Sally patted her flaming cheeks. What was this lassie implying?
Surely Bobby and her are not … They just can’t be … No, no, sex is a no-go topic in this house.
She knew from working in the pub that the young people of today went on about sex as if the survival of the human race depended on it, but surely her children … Eventually, her mind still in turmoil, she managed to mumble, ‘Makes no difference who agrees with me, Lois. My son’s welfare is my top priority.’

Lois seemed to ponder before she came back with a torpedo. ‘But, Mrs Stuart,’ she simpered, ‘next year, after Bobby and I get married, you’ll be able to spend your time on more worthwhile things than worrying about Bobby’s right leg.’

Turning to Bobby expectantly, Sally shrieked, ‘Married?’

‘Yeah, Mum, just as soon as both of us have graduated we will tie the knot. Mum, I know you will be thrilled for us. Believe me, in my whole life I have never been happier than I am right now.’

As the enormity of what she had done dawned on her, Josie halted packing her suitcase. Soon she would be homeward bound. However, now the euphoria of buying a holiday home had worn off, she had to face the financial reality: a reality that had her screaming inside coupled with a desire to run away. How on earth was she going to cope with Sally’s wrath when she told her how reckless she had been?

Sally had always been so good to her; she’d even gifted her half the deposit for her lower-flatted villa in Ryehill Terrace, the house that had quickly become her special wee palace, her very own home where she was mistress and accountable to no one.

Financially, she was sound – or to be precise had been sound – but the second mortgage she now had tied around her neck would change all that. She knew she was crazy to have signed the agreement to purchase. She also knew she would never be able to explain the feeling of exhilaration that had overtaken her when she’d looked at the artist’s impression of the flat. Perhaps it was the need to have something of her very own that had driven her. Always she had wanted to belong – to have something that was entirely hers and would be the envy of all.

Anyway,
she conceded,
if things get too tough for me there is always Sally to fall back on. In fact, I’ll do everything in my power to have Sally take over the responsibility of buying the flat, or at least come in as part-owner.
Having thought out this solution to her problem, she struggled into her swimsuit for one last swim in the warm, exotic waters of the Mediterranean. After all, it was important that she felt rested and relaxed before going home to face the music.

‘Sally, are you listening to me?’ Rita demanded of Sally, who was away in a world of her own.

‘Aye. Aye,’ was Sally’s dreamy response.

‘Well, as your Josie will be back tomorrow, I think you and I should shift ourselves and get the place looking spic and span for her coming back. The state your Margo left it in – didnae even rinse the glasses and wipe ower the tables … Are you sure she’s your bairn?’

‘Aye. But she takes after her dad. Still needs to be spoon-fed,’ was Sally’s sarcastic reply.

Before the two women could go on about Margo’s shortcomings, a loud, persistent knocking on the door had Rita rushing to open it. ‘Och, it’s only you, Luke. Now tell me do, have you been promoted to the CID or have you lost your police uniform?’

In answer to Rita’s question, Luke nodded and then shook his head. ‘Sally,’ he began urgently, ‘have you seen anything of Irish?’

‘No. Is there a problem?’

‘Aye. Didn’t he get himself in tow with that wee bitch of a lassie again. And didn’t she agree to marry him and become, well …’

‘But she didn’t.’

‘Well, she did marry him, but she didn’t … Poor sod had managed to get himself a job on one of the Ben Line ships and did he no leave her most of his pay? But when he got back, well, in addition to being skint … You know how she carries on … like a bitch in heat, she is.’

‘Oh, I hope he doesn’t throw himself in the dock again.’

‘Wish it would be just a case of dragging him out … Sally, he bought a big gutting knife in Galloway’s the ship chandlers yesterday. And see when I asked him why he needed it he said, “To gut with: what else would I do with it?” But after I left him I just knew he meant to rearrange her internal organs with it.’

‘But if that’s the case then is Irish not a problem for the CID? You’re off duty, so why are you concerning yourself?’

‘I know Irish is not the brightest shilling in the purse, but I like the guy.’

Before Sally could go on, in came John Thomson and an older man who walked with the aid of a stick. ‘I know it’s taken a couple of years to get him here, but here he is, Sally: my dad, Jock. And look, Dad, Luke’s here too.’

The old gentleman firstly shook Luke’s outstretched hand and then he offered to shake Sally’s.

Sally became quite emotional when she noticed that as Jock sought her hand he was crying. ‘Sorry, hen,’ he blurted. ‘You see you remind me of … well, your lovely mother, Peggy Mack.’

‘Surely not,’ was Sally’s quick reply.

‘Yeah. She was some lady. Her face, it was the fairest of them all. And she liked nothing better than for the two of us …’

Wishing to hurry things on, Sally asked, ‘Would you like a pint of McEwan’s Best on the house, Jock?’

‘Aye, lass, I would. And I think that offering me hospitality is right civil of you. But then are we not both well bred, and I think you should know …’

Before Jock could finish, in rushed a constable. ‘Luke, and you too, John, all hell’s broken out at the station. A bairn’s gone missing. So they need every man whether he’s on duty or not.’

John was the first to react. ‘Look, I’ll come, but I have to get my dad safely home to Prince Regent Street first.’

Jock and John had just left when Rita said, ‘Luke, are you no going to look for Irish? I know a missing bairn is serious, but there’ll be plenty there at the station to get the searches started. Please dinnae let the daft laddie doon. You wouldnae want to see him doing time for parting her heid from her shoulders.’

Luke nodded, but before he could leave, Angela entered and minced her way over the bar floor. Immediately she said, ‘No need for an introduction, Mrs Stuart, I would have known you anywhere.’

‘You would?’ Sally exclaimed.

‘Yes. To be truthful, you look much older than I thought you would look, but the family resemblance is still there.’

‘That might be true. But could I put you right – you are not of my family.’

This statement had a profound effect on Angela. Uncontrollable rage surged within her and as the desire for vengeance was so strong, she couldn’t keep herself from raising her hand and slapping Sally hard across the face.

‘Why did you do that?’ Sally yelped, whilst massaging her stinging face.

Angela, who felt exhilarated by her action, decided to reply by lifting the full pint of beer left by Jock, which she then slowly poured over the top of Sally’s head. As the beverage dripped down Sally’s face, all that could be heard was Angela’s wicked cackle.

Next thing Sally knew was that her forehead and nose had been bounced off the wooden bar and both were bleeding profusely. Then, without warning, two fingers groped under her face until they found her nostrils, which they then pinched mercilessly together. Waves of blackness and terror were overtaking her and she thought she was about to die. Suffocation looked like being the end of her, but the will to live took over. She would never know where the strength came from, but it did, and she managed to lift up her right high-heeled foot and with a downward thrust she plunged the heel hard into her assailant’s ankle. This action either frightened the person or had them judge that killing her was not going to solve anything, so luckily they removed their fingers and Sally breathed freely again.

On hearing the commotion, Rita, who had gone into the kitchen, emerged wielding a large carving knife. ‘Now,’ she hollered, ‘what’s going on in here?’ Sally’s battered and bleeding face was all the answer she required. ‘Right now,’ she bellowed as she swung the knife, ‘let’s get this straight. Anybody that’s thinking o’ starting anything be warned I’ll finish it.’