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A Mother's Love, Chapter one

Tags: incest

If you beat her again, I'll kill you!

She found me in the garden, stripped to the waist, swearing like hell as I pulled and strained at what was left of the tree stump.

"You son of a bitch, you will fucking well come up, you fucking well will!"

"Having trouble darling?"

I grinned at the sound of her voice, it belonged to the one woman in the world who I knew I could trust.

"Hi mum," I turned round prepared for the usual kiss, "Oh my God."

Her short blonde hair was in clumps as if it had been pulled out, one eye was completely shut, the other one-half way to being shut, dried blood had clotted beneath her obviously broken nose, and her whole face was just a mass of bruises.

"Can I stay for a while darling?" she asked as she collapsed in a heap at my feet.

She weighed next to nothing, and I was a big lad anyway, I picked her up and carried her into the house, I'd intended laying her on the couch, instead though I carried on upstairs and put her down gently on the bed.

The bruises were all over her legs as well, her skirt slid up over her thighs, and I was shocked to see that she was naked beneath it, even her inner thighs were black and blue with the bruises.

"Don't worry mum," I whispered as I brushed away an errant strand of hair from her forehead.

"You've had the last beating you'll ever have to take from that bastard."

That bastard was my father, a drunken bully, an idle layabout and the reason that at just sixteen, I was living in a small rented house and working in a local factory.

Mum was just thirty-three, he'd put his seed in her belly when she was sixteen, and I was the result of it. In spite of my father, I'd grown into a big lad, bigger than him and one Monday afternoon when I came back from work, he was just about to eat what mum had cooked for me.

"You're too fucking late," he laughed drunkenly. "You can do without."

I just looked at him with the total disgust, he'd never held a job for more than a week before being sacked for lateness, non-attendance or shoddy workmanship. But it was never his fault, in short, he was a complete fucking loser, and I detested him.

"Give your mother some money, she can go to the shop for me, I want some fags."

"Try giving her some of your dole money," I said quietly, "If you've got any left after the pub that is."

"Don't fucking answer me back boy."

Mum was gesturing to me behind his back to leave it.

"I'll get some on the slate," she said and went to put her coat on, but I stopped her with my hand on her wrist.

"Let the idle bastard fetch his own cigarettes mum."

He let out a roar and shot up from the table scattering plates and cutlery all over the floor.

"You cheeky little bastard," he roared, "I'm your father, and I'll teach you some fucking respect."

I'd had enough, more than enough, I'd lain in bed many a night listening to him rutting; he'd never made love to my mum, it had been more like rape. When I was younger, I'd cowered and watched as he'd beaten her, sometimes with his fists, sometimes his feet as well. I'd had sixteen years of it, and I wasn't about to take any more.

I ducked under his wildly flailing fist and hit him on the chin, his head snapped backwards, and mum screamed.

"You can't demand respect, you piece of crap," I hit him again, "You have to earn it."

His eyes glazed over and he looked as if he was about to fall asleep, so I helped him on his way with a fist on his jaw, and he slid to the floor, either drunk or unconscious or a combination of both.

Mum went to stay with her sister that night, Janice and her husband Pete, were used to having her every so often, but Pete for all his kindness was no match for my dad. So he was always quietly pleased when she returned to the living hell that was her life with my father.

He was still in a foul mood when he awoke an hour after I'd put him to sleep.

"Gimme a drink," he demanded as he struggled to his feet. "Where's your fucking mother?"

A gentle slap on his cheek did wonders to change his attitude at least for the moment.

"She's gone to Janice and Pete," I said roughly, "And you're going to bed."

I think that accepting my superiority over him hurt him more than my fists had, but he saw the expression on my face, I was ready to belt him again.

"Go to fucking bed, I'll be gone in the morning, but I'll promise you this, if you beat her again, I'll kill you.”

I didn't shout or yell, I spoke quietly, but there was a menace in my voice, and I hoped sincerely that the fear I was really feeling didn't show on my face.

I'd worked at the factory for about six months, and I was quite well thought of so I left a message on the company answer phone saying that I needed some time off and that I'd phone the following morning.

In fact, I didn't have to, the boss himself was at the door just after I woke up on the sofa.

"What's wrong Terry?"

He knew a little about my circumstances having once employed my father, in fact, I only got my job because he failed to make the connection. To his credit, once he found out who I was, he'd kept me on and even approved my permanent employment after I'd finished my three month's trial, he was a nice man, if a bit gruff and curt and I respected him greatly.

I told him everything, and on the spot, he offered me a little-terraced house to rent, one of many that he owned across the city.

"You can have it for six months rent free Terry, but it needs a lot of work. It needs the walls plastering, it needs decorating, and there's next to no furniture in it."

I accepted it immediately, and we shook hands on the agreement.

"I expect you back at work next Monday Terry," he said and added quietly. "You'll be paid for this week, good luck, you're worth more than your father ever could be."

It took me half an hour to pack all my worldly goods into a sports bag and two suitcases. I called for a taxi to take me over to Janice's house to see mum and tell her I was leaving.

Her reaction was predictable, she burst into tears and clung to me.

"I'm not going to ask you to change your mind darling," she said between sobs. "You deserve better than I've ever given you."

My own tears were rising as I held her tightly.

"Mum," I said gently. "You were never allowed to give me anything, he's so used to being an idle bastard, he expects his own wife to be the same, but you're not mum, I know you're not."

I'd written my new address down on the back of an envelope which I pressed into her hand along with a twenty-pound note,

"Don't let him get hold of either of these mum and please think seriously about what he's doing to you, mine's only a small house, but it's big enough for both of us."

A quick peck on the cheek and I left before her tears got to me and I changed my mind.

The house wasn't bad at all, but it was cold and a little bit damp, so I turned the gas and electricity on and went down to a little charity shop just down the road where I purchased a pile of bedding, a kettle and a few bits of crockery.

Dropping them off at the house, I went to the corner shop and bought some tea and coffee, milk and sugar and a few bits to eat. When I got back, I saw my boss's car outside, and he was just unloading the last of eight big boxes of blankets, crockery, and food as well as a second-hand microwave oven, a television set, and a video player.

"Here," he said in his usual gruff manner. "You might be able to use this lot, we were going to chuck it out anyway."

"Do you always throw out perfectly good bacon and eggs, or fresh fruit and vegetables, boss?"

"Smart little twat," he growled and got back into his car, just as he put it in gear he shouted through the window. "My missus, who seems to like you, the daft bitch, sent you this." and he thrust an envelope into my hands, then he roared off like a bloody formula one driver, throwing a, "Tidy the bloody garden up." at me as he did so!

"Jesus." There were five crisp twenty-pound notes in the envelope along with a note.

"Just to help you get started, it's a gift, not a loan.”


I spent the rest of the day just organizing things, the food had to be put away, the television and video installed and I cleaned all around with an old vacuum cleaner Jack and Brenda had given me. Their gifts had been entirely unexpected, and although I wasn't particularly hard up for money, the cash had been greatly appreciated.

The house didn't have a phone, so I invested half of it on a cheap, pay as you go mobile and then couldn't think of anyone to ring!

Oh well, at least I had one.

I was up bright and early the next morning and explored the large garden. In a rickety old outhouse, I found a spade and a garden fork, so I set to work clearing it because I had an idea of making money out of growing stuff there. But the trouble was, there was a dirty great big stump growing right in the middle of what I'd already decided was going to be the vegetable patch.

An axe set me back five pounds from a junk shop, and the tight old sod behind the counter even charged me a fiver for a length of rusty old chain that I thought I might need to pull the stump out.

I worked hard until the early evening and then washed and decided to try my luck down at the local pub on the next corner. Well, I was more than big enough to pass for eighteen, and true enough the landlord served me a pie and a pint without question.

The pie went down without touching the sides, and he beamed when I asked for another one which went down almost as quickly as the first. Briefly, I wondered if mum had gone home yet and if she had, would he take my leaving out on her?

There wasn't much I could do about that, so I drank another pint and went home completely knackered. I was determined to watch something on my television, but the next thing I knew was waking up and seeing my watch displaying 02:00, so I crawled into bed and fell asleep again immediately.

The following morning I attacked the stump again with renewed vigour and had actually got it half out of the ground when mum's voice behind me made me stop!


It was almost teatime before she awoke again and by then more bruising had appeared around her face and arms, she looked a right bloody mess, and I told her so.

"Thanks, Terry," she said weakly. "That's just what I wanted to hear."

I grinned at her and touched my lips to her forehead, the only place that seemed to be unmarked.

"Fancy anything to eat mum?"

"Why, have you got anything?"

I told her about Jack and Brenda and their gifts, and she agreed with me that they seemed like nice people.

"It must be nice to have friends, we haven't got any."

I held her in my arms and stroked her head.

"We have got friends, mum, everybody out there is a friend that we haven’t met yet. It's you from now on and me, that's who we are, you're never going back to that drunken bastard again, never."

I wondered why my voice was breaking.


Mum was crying too, I tipped her head up with a finger under her chin and kissed her lips gently, she winced, and I realised she had a couple of teeth missing too.

"Jesus mum, he really gave you one didn't he?"

She nodded. "I don't want to go back Terry, can I stay here for a few days?"

"No mum," I said. "You can stay here for more than a few days, from now on this is your home, right?"

"Right," she whispered.

She ate a crappy meal of bacon and eggs which was all I knew how to cook, but she said it was the best meal she'd had in years.

"Bloody hell mum," I laughed. "It wasn't that good."

"Oh yes it was Terry," she said as she pushed the empty plate away. "You see darling it was the only meal I've ever had that I didn't cook myself."

She slept again then while I sat in the garden and I must have dozed off because it was mid-afternoon when I awoke to find mum seated on a kitchen chair beside me, head back, eyes closed soaking up the sun.

"I'm not asleep Terry," she said, "I'm just enjoying the sun."

For some reason, I thought of dad, and I took hold of her hand.

"Is there anything you need or want from the house, mum?"

"How much money have you got darling?" she asked by way of a reply.

"Altogether with what I've got in the bank, I've got about five hundred pounds. Why?"

"I don't ever want to have to go back there Terry, is that all right?"

"I should bloody well hope not mum."

"Can you keep me until I find a job, it might be a week or so because nobody will give me a job looking like this, will they?"

"Why the hell are you asking mum?" then I laughed. "We'll starve together."

We didn't starve, we prospered, we got rid of the bloody tree stump one afternoon when it started to rain and ended up two sodden, bedraggled, mud covered specimens. I ran a bath and told mum to get in first.

"I'll get the next one mum when the water's heated up again."

She agreed and then started giggling as she looked at me.

"Don't be so daft, it'll take an hour and cost a fortune with the immersion heater and anyway I've seen it all before, come on."

I was horrified!

"I can't have a bath with you mum."


"Well because . . . . ," I thought for a moment. "I just can't."

She was still laughing and to be honest I loved it, her laughter was unforced and genuine, and for once in her so far miserable life, she wasn't looking at dad to seek his approval.

It was the most embarrassing thing I'd ever done, I only had two towels, so I let mum get in first and then followed her in after undressing in the kitchen. I won't say that I didn't look because I did, I saw her breasts, her nipples and even caught a glimpse of her clean shaven mound!

I prayed that what I'd seen didn't have an unfortunate effect on me, but it did, (I was sixteen remember.) So I sat in the dirty water and pretended to close my eyes as she got out, but only after I'd seen a very nice, very firm little bottom!

It was a lovely evening, we sat in front of the television, and I let mum choose what to watch. It was an old Richard Gere film, An Officer and Gentleman, and it bored me to tears, but mum cried buckets, and I teased her unmercifully!

I fell asleep where I was that night, my head in her lap and when I awoke she was still watching the television, some silly late night chat show or something.

"Go to bed mum," I moaned, "I'm knackered, and you're in my bed."

It would've been the third night I'd spent on the rickety old couch, so when she said firmly that we could quite well share my single bed, I didn't complain, and we went upstairs hand in hand.

I slept like a log and awoke to bright sunlight streaming through the window, mum was downstairs in the kitchen reading a morning paper and smoking a cigarette.

"Been to the shop mum?"

"Yes why?" she was defensive. "I used my money, so what?"

I shook my head slowly and knelt down in front of her,

"Mum, I was making conversation, I don't give a shit whether you used my money, your money, or the Pope's money. Relax mum for God's sake, I've never seen you reading a newspaper before that's all or smoking either for that matter."

She looked at me pensively and stroked my head.

"We couldn't afford newspapers Terry, and your dad always smoked all his cigarettes, I just thought I'd treat myself."

"Well those days are over now mum, we don't have a lot of money, but there'll be a wage coming in every week, we'll get there mum, I promise you that."

"I know we will darling," she said softly. "I know we will."

Then she jumped, and a look of fear came over her face as a fist thundered against the kitchen door, it opened slowly, and a gruff voice asked if I was decent.

"Morning Terry."

He looked questioningly at mum and said.

"Wow, how's the other bloke?"

"Sitting at home wallowing in his own filth, Jack," I replied. "This is Sarah, my mother, and mum, this is Jack."

They shook hands and mum made us all a coffee. "I was just going to make some toast Jack, would you care for some?"

"I think that a bit of toast would be lovely Sarah, thank you, it's more than this little bugger's ever offered me."

I opened my mouth to protest, but I caught his grin and laughed with them both.

"So who did that to you, Sarah?"

"Need you ask?"

He shook his head sadly. "No, I don't think I do."

Over tea and toast she told him what had happened and said that as long as it was okay with him, she'd be staying with me for the foreseeable future.

"Not in this bloody shack you won't," he growled. "Come with me now, the pair of you."

After about a ten minute drive, we pulled off the road and onto a narrow lane, at the end of which stood a lovely little cottage, he fished in the cluttered glove compartment and pulled out a bunch of keys.

"Let's have a look shall we?"

Mum and I looked at each other as we entered the cottage, the old beamed roof was quite low, I felt my hair brushing the beams and kept ducking instinctively, mum laughed again and squeezed my hand.

"Stop growing Terry," she giggled. "It's your only chance."

The furniture, fittings, carpets, and

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