His Mother's Love

Karen Bradshaw

Description

Ed Banbury faced a tough childhood, losing his parents to an accident and enduring the abuse and mistreatment of his foster mother. Lost and scared, he was a little boy who came out the other side. Or did he? Ed coasts through his life with an arrogant disregard for anyone who crosses his path. Disrespectful and a true ladies' man, he will stop at nothing to satisfy his own selfish needs, until he meets Eve, a beautiful and mysterious stranger. Just when his life is falling apart around him, could she be the person who saves him from himself? Or is he beyond saving? The events that follow this chance meeting could shape the rest of his life. Suffering from terrifying dreams of his childhood and never sure how to behave in his adult life, Ed is going to need a miracle to guide him through. The only problem is, Ed needs to realise that he is the only one who can save himself before he loses everything.

Sujets

• Love
• Love (disambiguation)

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 mai 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528982269
• Langue: English

Extrait

H is M other’s L ove
Karen Bradshaw
Austin Macauley Publishers
2021-05-28
His Mother’s Love About the Author Copyright Information © Acknowledgement Chapter One: 1987 Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One
About the Author
Karen Bradshaw began writing in her mid-twenties, though it was a hobby she had enjoyed since childhood. In 2016 she began work on her first full-length story after having written many short stories. Karen has been writing a blog since 2018 and does this alongside being a full-time mother to four children. Karen has a passion for fiction, both reading and writing, and enjoys sharing her work with other passionate authors and readers alike.
Copyright Information ©
Karen Bradshaw (2021)
The right of Karen Bradshaw to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528982252 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528982269 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2021)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgement
I would first of all like to say a huge thank you to my partner, Ryan, and my family for their constant support whilst I was in the process of writing this book. Their belief in me has pushed me forward and kept me writing even when times were hard.
To Nicole, my writing soul-sister and one of my best friends, thank you for always being there to spur me on and keep me sane (or insane). Your friendship and support are second to none.
To Steph, my oldest and dearest friend, your critique on my writing has been nothing short of brilliant. Having someone so passionate about reading on my side has been a huge help.
To my parents, Wendy and Kevin, I couldn’t ask for more supportive parents. You are my guides through life and you always bring me comfort. Bringing me up to have confidence in myself has made me believe in my writing and that I can do it.
And finally to my sister, Lisa. I couldn’t have wished for a better person to have as a sister and best friend. You tell me exactly what’s on your mind and have put in more than your fair share of support throughout my life and through the process of creating this book. Thank you for believing in me.
Chapter One

1987
He could hear her footsteps coming ever closer, it didn’t take much to disturb him from sleep now. It was almost as if his little mind was set constantly on high alert. She had reached the top of the staircase, now there were only a few paces to go before the bedroom door would open. It must have been pretty late by now, she always waited until everyone else in the house was sound asleep. One time, as she crept through his door, a voice echoed down the hallway: “Mommy, why are you going into Edward’s room? Is he okay?” It was his foster sister; her real child, her real daughter.
“Yes darling, he’s fine. I’m just checking on him. Go back to bed, I’ll check on you after.” He got the blame for her curiosity, although he never knew why. It seemed he got the blame for a lot of things that he didn’t understand.
He lay frozen, waiting for her to enter the room. She always seemed much bigger in the dark and much more intimidating. After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened. Her shadowy figure loomed in the doorway, he could feel his body tensing up and his breath becoming more shallow. His tiny heart pumping the blood faster and faster around his body.
“Boy,” she whispered menacingly as the door clicked quietly shut. “I know you’re awake.”
She made her way over to the bed and pulled the covers off the terrified five-year-old.
“Yes, Mommy,” he squeaked.
“I’m not your mommy, you dirty little brat. That whore is dead, remember.” She leaned in, close to the boy’s face; he could smell the alcohol on her breath. It was always worse when she had been drinking. “That is why I’m lumbered with you,” she spat.
“My money and my time again tonight, you ungrateful child,” the anger in her voice was so profound. “You think I want to be wasting a perfectly good meal on you, boy?!” He instantly knew what she was referring to, he hadn’t been able to finish his dinner again tonight. He never could though. How could he, when she purposefully always gave him too much? It was just another one of her sick games to make him feel useless and to give herself another chance to scold him when nobody else was watching.
“Well, you’ll learn,” she hissed as she released her grip on his fragile little neck. “Tomorrow you’ll have nothing to eat.”
He heard the sound before he felt the sting of her palm across his cheek. He recoiled back as he felt the tears begin to pool in his eyes. Without thinking, he allowed a small sob to escape his lips. She laughed quietly to herself.
“You’re pathetic, boy. You never hear your sisters crying like little babies,” she taunted. But he was still only a baby, just a small helpless boy. And that was the problem. “You want to learn some gratitude and respect. You’ll never be like them though; will you, boy.” And with that, she turned and left the room.
The small boy let go of his breath and curled himself up into a little ball. He lay frightened and sore from the assault he had just endured, and his tiny little mind tried to comprehend why the woman who was meant to protect him, would treat him with such intolerable cruelty. As his breath began to return to normal and his body stopped trembling, he felt the all-too-familiar feeling of his pyjama bottoms becoming warm and wet. He knew there would be consequences in the morning, but he didn’t dare to leave his bedroom. So instead, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep as the warm and wet turned into cold and damp.
He awoke to the sound of his sisters’ laughter as their mother playfully helped them dress and wash. He could hear water being splashed and shrieks, as they no doubt dodged each other’s childish attacks. He would never be allowed to play such games.
“Okay girls, down for breakfast you go,” his mother told them as she placed a hand on his door handle and pushed down slightly, not daring to open the door fully until she was completely certain that both the daughters were totally out of earshot.
“Boy, why aren’t you out of bed?” she questioned as she furiously flung the curtains open.
“I’m sorry mo…” he stopped himself as addressing her as his mother before he faced another torrent of abuse for that.
She stood, arms folded, next to the bed. “Well, are you getting up, or aren’t you?”
He knew he had no choice but he was filled, once again, with fear because he also knew that she would notice the urine in his bed, including the fresh patch he had woken in the night to. He slipped out from under the covers and stood cowering in front of his mother. It was almost as if she had a sixth sense.
“Move that blanket back, boy,” she ordered. He sheepishly obliged. “What is this?” she demanded, pointing at the wet sheet. “Pissed yourself again, you vile little rat.”
“I– I didn’t mean to,” he stammered.
“Pah,” she exclaimed.
“Dirty little tramps like you need to be taught a lesson.”
Before he had chance to respond she had her hand on the back of his head. She twisted him around and forced the boy’s face into the wet, stinking bed.
“Don’t think you’re so clever now, do you?” she pushed harder down on his head, all the while whispering insults into his ear. Even at a low volume, she had the most threatening tone he had ever heard. “You’ll be sleeping in that, tonight.” He was trying so hard to remain still, he had learnt that struggling only made it harder to breathe, when she finally relented and threw him, panting to the ground. “Get yourself ready for school.”
He sat quietly in the back of the car, the smell of urine still resting in his nostrils. His throat still sore from the previous evening, but nobody would notice, she had never left a mark on him. To an outsider, it was like the incidents didn’t ever happen. It was their secret. So many thoughts raced through his mind on the journey to school, maybe today would be the day he would tell one of his classmates. But he knew that day would never really come, the fear that consumed him was too great. All he truly knew was that for the following six hours he could be a normal kid and the fear could be put on hold. Just for six hours.
Chapter Two
Ed gasped and shot upright from a dream-filled sleep. Bleary eyed and sore headed, he grappled around the bedside table for his phone which was ringing, the piercing tone cutting through the air and his head like a laser. Oh crap! It was his boss. He noticed the time, 8:45 am, he was supposed to have been at work 45 minutes ago. Angela, his superior, was not the kind of woman that you wanted to get on the wrong side of, she had a real mean streak, or at least in Ed’s opinion. Other people didn’t seem to see what he saw, but he was sure that she simply had it in for him, he couldn’t do right f