My Son(5)

By: Marie Kelly

Kelly had spent the rest of the day in a blind panic. Having safely ensured that Max stayed with her friend that evening on the pretext that she was not well, she had first talked on the phone with her lawyer and then met with him in person to talk about Max and Marc.

“But Trudy’s will clearly said that she wanted me to bring him up” she had cried as her lawyer had kindly sat her down pushing a warm cup of tea into her trembling fingers

Mr Grace, who although appeared so outwardly gently, was a formidable man in the courts, and was not one who believed in sugar coating the truth, and with a deep sigh he had faced her

“Kelly....I don’t know what to tell you. If Marc De Santo is Max’s biological father then he has more rights to his son that you do”

Kelly’s look of shock and fear driving him to add in a more kindly voice

“But he has to prove he is the biological father first”

Kelly had grabbed onto this small glimmer of hope

“Yes. yes….maybe he isn’t Max's father after all” she had said hopefully. However, in her mind she had once more seen the picture of Marc standing beside Max’s picture and in her heart of hearts she knew that he was.

Placing the untouched tea back on the desk she had put her head into her hands and whispered tremulously “Please Mr Grace, Max is all I have. There must be something I can do. He hasn’t supported Max - he didn’t even care about him until Trudy died”

Mr Grace had spoken gently

“Are you so sure that he knew Kelly” he had asked softly

Kelly had remained silent. Trudy had told her that Marc didn’t want to know, but in just that one meeting with the man she had had this belief shaken. Had he known she felt sure that he would have demanded that he kept his son, not allowing him to grow up in such a place as they were living. Kelly had once more grown angry at the way he had put down her home, the house that she and Danny had so lovingly restored, before…. She had pushed the memories to the side with a bitter twist of her mouth. How dare he insult her lovely home, not everybody could afford to live in penthouse suites or designer villas, her mouth setting angrily. If there was one thing that Max had always known then it was love. Her home was full of love and Max had never known anything else, something she doubted that Marc De Santo was capable of.

On returning home she had walked around her flat wringing her hands and waiting for his return but he never had and when by tea time the next day he had still not returned Kelly had allowed her friend to bring Max home.

As they were once more left alone Kelly had hugged the small child kissing him on his fat cheeks. She had looked into his gorgeous eyes and was momentarily reminded of another set of eyes that had looked at her with such scorn. Tickling the little boy much to his delight, she had said gently

“You would never look at me like that, would you my darling” however, the small child had just looked back at her sweetly with laughing eyes.

Realising that she had not seen or heard any more from him in 2 days, Kelly had begun to hope that Marc De Santo had changed his mind, perhaps he had only wanted to make sure that she was not trying to get money from him. Yes that was it she had thought to herself a sense of relief washing over her – he just didn’t want to have to pay her off, reminded of his words

“If you are trying to get money...”

This was enough to change Kelly’s mood, as she had reproached herself for her panic realising that Marc De Santo was not a man who wanted to be saddled with a baby, a child would never fit into his life style she had assured herself once more smiling.

For the rest of the evening she had bathed and played with the small boy who had giggled and coo-d contentedly in her arms, before finally she had put him into his cot before collapsing onto her own bed. The previous night she had not slept with sheer fear of losing her beloved Max and now exhausted she had quickly fallen into a deep sleep.

Coming around groggily Kelly had taken a moment to register what had awakened her before realising that the door bell was ringing. Still half asleep she had pulled herself out of bed standing at the door before she had really had time to wake up.

Carefully she had opened it, her befuddled mind wondering what the post man was bringing her as she had peered out, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Seeing him standing there had woken her quickly, the surge of fear that crashed through her body freezing her to the spot as Mark De Santo had stood on the doorstep as darkly handsome as ever.

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