His Father's Son

By Chantal-Louise Davies

An unexpected thunderstorm changes one pregnant woman's life forever. Her husband is killed in a car accident, leaving Andrea to run the business and raise their child alone. Letting go of the past proves difficult for Andrea.

Her son, Morgan, is troubled by the lack of a father figure and her friends and family seem to think she needs a man in her life.

Financial problems lead her to extend an existing loan, and her bank manager seems to take more than a passing interest in her.

Will he have any success in breaking down the barriers Andrea has set up around herself? If he does, will that prove to be a blessing or a curse? Will Angela be able to raise Morgan to be His Father's Son?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anita Davies Editing Services
• Release date: Sep 7, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466011434

Book preview

A love-story standing comparison with the classic Pride and Prejudice, by an author who may ultimately prove to be a modern-day Jane Austen.

Trevor Montague, Author of the best-selling A to Z of almost Everything

A stirring and compelling tale of loss, love and devotion

Mark S Smith, Bookwyrms.Com

His Father’s Son

Chantal-Louise Davies

Published by Chantal-Louise Davies

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 CLDavies

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Mam – Thank you for making me the person I am today. Thank you for being the only constant in my life. I miss you and love you.

xxx

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Chapter One

As he took the sharp bend he almost lost control of the car. The expected thunderstorms had arrived and were worse than anyone had predicted. The rain banged hard against the windscreen and the thunder clapped overhead as Morgan strained his eyes, trying to watch the road ahead. The earlier phone call from his wife had been short, but he had been thankful for that. His main priority right now was getting home in one piece.

Andrea tapped her fingers on the windowsill, looking out into the blackness of the night. The flashes of lightning continuously lit up the sky in front of her. She contemplated calling his mobile to check on him, but decided against taking his attention away from the road.

A half-hour passed and she became edgy. Surely, rain and all, he should be home by now. Just then, the phone rang. As she picked it up and brought the receiver up to her ear she heard his voice, Andrea, I love you, was all he said. The line went dead.

The funeral was a small affair, just a handful of family members and a few of Morgan’s friends in attendance.

I’m so sorry, said one gentleman taking a hold of Andrea’s small porcelain-like hand. He was a good man, and he loved you very much. Any fool could see that.

Andrea stood a while, exchanging words with various people. Tamara approached her, Honey, I’m not going to say sorry, I’m sure that’s all you’ve heard from people since the accident, she said, a solemn look on her face.

Andrea smiled at her friend, Thank you. I think I’ll scream if I hear one more person say sorry.

Sorry about everything, came a voice from behind the two women. Andrea widened her eyes at her friend who took a hold of her arm as they walked to the waiting car.

There’s something I need to tell you, said Andrea in a barely audible whisper. Tamara stepped into the car behind her friend, a confused look on her face.

What is it? she asked.

Later, she replied, nodding her head toward the driver to indicate he was listening.

Can I ask you something?

Sure, fire away, answered Andrea.

Are you, or will you be, struggling to keep up payments on the house now that Morgan’s pay isn’t coming in? I’m sorry to have to ask, it’s just that, well… It’s a huge house and I figure maybe you could rent, or buy, something smaller.

I’m not moving. Morgan and I went through hell to get that place in the condition it’s in now. In answer to the question, it will be a struggle to keep up payments, yes. The income from the café will take care of us though.

Tamara looked at her, her forehead a heap of confusion lines.

We? she finally said.

Me, I mean me, she paused and closed her eyes. Tamara, I’m pregnant. Her friend’s eyes widened at the shocking news. She knew that they had been trying to have a baby but the timing could not have been worse.

Are you keeping it?

It! she snapped. ‘It’, as you put it, is my baby — mine and Morgan’s.

I’m sorry Andrea, it’s just that… well I mean, how do you expect to look after a newborn and run a business?

I never said it was going to be easy, I know just how hard other people have worked to keep a business going when they have kids and they’re two-parent families. In the end, it’s all going to be worth it.

You know I love you honey and I don’t want to see you run yourself into the ground. Do Morgan’s parents know? she asked.

If they knew, do you really think I’d be sat here now? she replied, a grim look on her face.

Morgan’s parents had never approved of his choice of bride. They had spent many years trying to part their son and Andrea — as far as they were concerned, she didn’t look the part. Vain as it was, they admitted it. Following the accident, they had blamed Andrea on more than one occasion for the loss of their son, which, of course, was ridiculous. If they knew she was pregnant with their son’s baby, they would indeed fight for custody of the child and they would stop at nothing to win.

Later that day, back at home the last of the well-wishers were leaving.

I can stay, help you clean all this mess away if you want me to, said Julia, who had been a friend of Morgan’s; they had worked together in the past and had remained friends for years. At one point during an argument, Andrea had accused Morgan of sleeping with her, a complete fabrication and something that she had always regretted saying. Looking back now, it seemed silly to have even thought it, but Julia’s wardrobe only consisted of figure-hugging clothes, and my did she have a figure to hug. Andrea had always felt less than perfect when Julia made an entrance — the funeral was no exception.

That’s okay, I can do it. I think I need a little time alone anyway, she smiled, hugging Julia before watching her walk out of the front door.

Andrea collapsed into a nearby chair and burst into tears.

How am I going to do this, Morgan? How am I going to bring up our child, alone? How am I going to do that and keep the money coming in for our home? she said aloud to the empty room. She looked around, possibly looking for an answer of some kind, but finding none.

The lounge, which in the past had always been warm and welcoming, was now somehow different; the warm colour on the walls looked as though it were a few years beyond the need of a fresh coat. The light from the huge window, which would normally fill up the room, was unusually dark. The way the open fire used to warm up the entire room, as large as it was now, bore no resemblance to what she remembered. As she sat staring into the flames, there was nothing. Without Morgan, not only the room, but also her life, was cold.

Andrea breathed deep and let out a sigh before getting to her feet and making her way through to the kitchen. The entire house felt different without Morgan but she had to get used to it. She pulled out a roll of bin-liners and tore one off. Throwing rubbish into the bags, her mind kept wandering.

As she walked back into the lounge, she picked up a paper plate from the sofa and put it into the bag. She smiled as she remembered the day Morgan had arrived in late from work, a huge smile had covered his face, he’d gone on to explain that he’d been promoted and wanted to celebrate. At the time, the only thing missing from their life was a child. To celebrate his promotion they had gone against the usual bottle of champagne, dinner for two or trip to a sunny beach and opted for practicing. Practicing making a baby that is.

The way in which he had made love to her that night, the way in which she had succumbed to his every touch, she would never forget. He had kissed her body from head to toe, concentrating on certain areas and getting from those areas a sense of satisfaction, both for himself, and for her. She bit her bottom lip, in her mind re-living the whole scenario.

The love she got from him that night, the way she had been raving mad at him for not being home on time, the way she had forgotten that he’d neglected to call and tell her he’d be late after seeing the look on his face as he entered the room. The kiss he had planted on her lips right before slipping off her blouse and explaining that he had landed the promotion. The feeling of annoyance she had felt when he was late, being forgotten as he entered her. They had made love before, but it had never felt as good as it did that night.

She had known the morning after that she was pregnant, a gut feeling, but she needed to confirm it, and considering they had been trying for four months already and nothing had happened, she