“Good morning, did you manage to sleep at all? It was a heck of a storm in the end. I think there are some trees down in the lane, and I know half the village is still without power,” Dad said when I entered the kitchen.
“I did.”
I froze. Dad froze. I frowned, had I just spoken? I heard words in my head all the time but I wasn’t sure if they’d left my mouth or not. However, judging by the look on Dad’s face, they must have. I opened my mouth again.
Dad nodded gently, as if in encouragement, but no words came. It seemed that if I tried, it didn’t happen. I shook my head and sighed.
“It’s coming, Dani, that’s all you need to think about. Now, breakfast?”
I saw the disappointment flash across his face even though he’d tried so hard to hide it. I grabbed a pad and flicked through until I came to a clean page.
I know it will. I don’t want any breakfast and I’m going to go for a little walk, my head is fuzzy from sleeping so deep.
It was a lie, and I was sure that he realised that. I wanted to just get outside and scream, or walk off, my frustration. I rushed upstairs and grabbed the letter I’d written to Lincoln. I stuffed it in the envelope and pulled on my boots. I wrapped a scarf around my neck and shrugged into Miller’s jacket. Dad was standing at the bottom of the stairs when I returned. Worry creased his face. I placed my hand on his cheek and smiled. I wanted him to think I was okay.
I walked up the lane and climbed over a small tree that had fallen. I guessed the local farmer would drag it out of the way with his tractor at some point. The local council tended to ignore damage in the lanes, concentrating on the major routes initially. I left the letter in the honesty box and started to make my way back. A noise had me come to a halt. I didn’t want to go back towards the farm. My heart had started to pound in my chest at the thought of meeting whoever was cutting the tree. It had been the sound of a chainsaw I’d heard.
As I rounded the corner, I saw Miller. He had one boot-clad foot rested on the trunk of the tree. He wore a hard hat with a visor that covered his face. I stayed back as he lowered the chainsaw and wood chippings flew up into the air.
“Don’t get too close, Dani,” I heard. I turned to see Mrs. Hampton from the local shop.
I patted the jacket hoping to find a pad. Normally every coat, jean pocket even, contained one. Mrs. Hampton waved her hand as if she understood what I was trying to do and was telling me not to worry.
“It’s okay,” she said, smiling at me. “What a storm, huh? We’re still out of power; I hope they can fix it quick. I’ve got all the fridges running off a generator at the moment. I’m hoping Miller can come and check I’ve got enough fuel when he’s done with that tree.”
Whether he heard us talking or not, I wasn’t sure, but he switched off the chainsaw and straightened. He turned and at the same time raised the visor covering his face.
“Good morning, ladies. Here to help?”
“Here to help? Dani and I are just admiring the view,” Mrs. Hampton said.
I gasped, silently of course. She had to be well into her seventies, but the naughty chuckle that left her lips and the dig from her elbow into my side, had me desperate to laugh out loud.
“Admiring the view? Maybe I should start charging for that,” Miller replied. He gave her a wink. “Instead of standing there admiring the view, Dani, grab that branch for me.”
I held on to the branch he was pointing to, and then looked at him.
“Maybe pull it out of the way?” he said, teasing me.
I heard it, I was sure I had. A laugh escaped my mouth. Miller looked at me but didn’t say anything and I was thankful. If my voice was coming back, I didn’t want a fuss made, for fear it might go again. I pulled the branch to the side of the lane.
“Ready for some more admiring, Mrs. Hampton?” Miller said, as he raised the chainsaw and pulled on the starter cord. With one foot back on the trunk, he posed with the chainsaw, resting on his knee, and lowered his visor again.
“Dani, I wish I’d brought a couple of chairs and a flask,” she said.
I pointed to my chest and then down the lane, I wanted to indicate to her that I was leaving. I’d have loved to stay longer, simply to enjoy listening to her banter but I was cold.
“Come on by the shop soon, we can have a cup of tea,” she called out as I skirted the tree.
“I’ll be down later today, if I can get away from Mrs. Hampton in one piece, Dani,” Miller said. Their laughter followed me down the lane.
I smiled as I walked home.
“That’s a nice thing to see,” Dad said, as I walked through the front door.
I bumped into Mrs. Hampton and Miller. A tree had fallen down; he was cutting it up. I think Mrs. Hampton has a thing for him, I wrote on a pad.
Dad laughed. “Mrs. Hampton has a thing for anyone. She quite scares me sometimes.”
She seemed fun. I don’t remember her being fun.
“She’s a nice, kind person. I enjoy her company,” he said. I noticed that his cheeks had coloured a little.
Maybe you should spend some time with her. I’m sure you’d enjoy a night out, I scribbled.
He coloured some more and then laughed. He didn’t answer my note but busied himself making tea instead. Had I hit on something there?
Dad had been single for years, and in all that time, I don’t ever remember him dating another woman. It was a shame in one way. He’d dedicated himself to being a single father but was that at the expense of his own happiness?
Seriously, invite her down for dinner one evening, I wrote. I slid the pad in front of him.
“Well, she has been, a couple of times in the past. I’ve been up to her house, as well. I haven’t seen so much of her lately.”
Because of me?
“Because of lots of things, Dani. Now, drink your tea, there’s a croissant, if you want one.”
I grabbed the croissant from the side and sat at the table.
You put your life on hold when Mum died to look after us, you’ve done the same now and it’s not fair. I’m fine, you need to get back to your old life, I wrote.
He didn’t answer but patted my hand when he leant down to pick up my empty plate. Maybe I’d have to force the issue a little. The fact his cheeks had coloured suggested that he enjoyed her company.
Chapter Nine
The sound of a truck on the gravel drive roused me from a daydream as I sat in the garden, wrapped against the elements. I was thinking of Lincoln and the fact he’d be spending Christmas alone. I rose from the garden chair and walked around the side of the house. Miller was climbing from the driver’s seat, his sweater was covered in bark and wood chips from his earlier chore.
“Hey, I have some plans for you to look over,” he said, reaching back into the truck.
He pulled out a tube and then followed me to the back door.
“Shall I put them here?” he said, pointing to the kitchen table. I nodded my head.
He retrieved the plans from the tube and unrolled them onto the table. He used a mug to hold one side down, smoothing the paper out with his hand. I grabbed a small empty plant pot to secure the other end.
“Okay, let me walk you through. We come in through the front door and I’ve created a hallway with the staircase. I know you wanted all open-plan; but think about opening that door on a day like yesterday. You’ll want somewhere to leave your coat, boots, that kind of stuff. I’ve placed two en suite bedrooms on either end, and a cloakroom in the middle, for guests. You might not want them traipsing through bedrooms to use the toilet.”
I nodded and he continued, “Now, the exciting part.” He slid a second plan from underneath and placed it on the top.
“Here are the stairs and the whole top floor is open-plan. We’ve got a kitchen at one end, dining table in the middle to create some separation, living space at this end. You’ve got your glass wall so you can sit and look out. Imagine walking up those stairs and seeing that space.”
&
nbsp; Miller seemed excited at what he was showing me. It certainly looked impressive.
“All the beams in the roof will be exposed to keep the character of the building. I’ve got the most amazing log burner in my workshop that fits perfectly here,” he pointed to the sidewall. “I’d also like to keep some of the beams exposed down the walls.”
I love it. It’s perfect, I wrote on a pad. Miller’s smile was wide. What do we do now?
“If you’re happy with what I’ve done, we start the planning process. I propose that we put in a pre planning application, that gives the council a chance to state what they don’t like before we submit for real. It’s more cost, but in my experience, it’s worth it.”
Okay, whatever you think is right, I scribbled.
“Now, outside space.” He pulled a third plan from the pile.
“We have to provide two car parking spaces, I suggest we place those here. At the rear, I assumed you’d want a seating area, so I’ve sketched this landscaping.”
The plan showed a large patio, which wrapped around the side where the front door was, to the rear master bedroom.
“I think sliding doors from your bedroom to this outside space might work well. You have to take into account your living space is upstairs. If you had a party, for example, you’ll be bringing things down from the kitchen. Price you have to pay for an upside down house, though.”
I doubt I’ll be having too many parties! What about a boundary fence or something? Do I need that?
“Maybe not immediately, but you know, at some point, your dad might sell up, so I’ve outlined the boundary for the council.”
Miller told me about the planning process and the length of time we’d have to wait for decisions, while he did, I made tea. The planning process went over my head; my understanding was clouded by the building excitement, fighting with the layer of guilt it had to push through. I shouldn’t be excited, but I was.
Is there anything we can start to do?
“Not really, other than maybe clear out the barn. I also have some quotes for you. You need to sit down and go through those. If you agree on the estimate, I’ll need a signature. You’ve gotta sign your life over,” he said with a laugh.
He stood, leaving all the paperwork on the kitchen table and drained the cup of tea he held.
“If you agree with everything, then I can get the planning underway. There’s always time to change minor details. You can send me a text if you like. My number is on the top of the quotes.”
I nodded at him, pulling out a piece of his headed paper. It listed his company name, address, and mobile number. I hadn’t thought about where Miller lived and was surprised to see he was the other side of the village.
Miller left and Dad and I looked over the plans. I found it hard to picture the finished article, especially the size of each room. While doing that, I thought back on my house in London.
Have you heard from Christian? I wonder what’s happening with my house, I wrote on my pad.
“I haven’t, I can give him a call later if you like.”
I nodded my agreement. I was keen to get that resolved. There was a small part of me that wanted to go back there, for one last visit. A larger part knew that would put me back months. The memories would overwhelm and perhaps I was still ‘hiding’ from facing up to them. I just didn’t feel ready and wondered if I’d regret that at some point. I had to remind myself, it was just a house, bricks and mortar; the memories would always stay with me.
“I think we should make a start on clearing out the barn. Maybe you’ll get better perspective when it’s empty. We can mark out the rooms, if you like,” Dad said, I thought that was a great idea.
I pulled a jumper over my head and laced up my boots, there was no time like the present to get started. Dad and I headed out to the barn. It was decided that we’d separate up the boxes that were stacked against one wall. Three piles began to form. One belonged to me, one to Christian, and the third was Dad’s. It seemed that Mum had been extremely organised with each box, they were labelled with either our name or the room the items had been cleared out from.
Dad turned on an old battery radio and hummed along to tunes as we shifted the boxes. A couple of hours later we’d sorted them.
“I guess we need to organise a skip, or something. I’m sure most of this can be thrown away,” Dad said, sitting down on an old garden chair.
What about all your tools? Should we get a shed? I wrote.
“Might not be a bad idea. I’m also thinking of what to do with the car. Other than to take you to the church that day, I never drive it. It costs a fortune just to have sitting there. My old eyes aren’t what they used to be, so I don’t really feel confident on the road anymore.”
But you’ll lose your independence.
“We do have those things called taxis, Dani,” he said with a chuckle.
I imagined the old Mercedes to be a classic nowadays and it was in mint condition. I hadn’t driven in years, there was never the need when living in London and parking was at a premium. I felt it a shame to sell the car, though. Maybe I could persuade Dad to keep it.
We were both covered in dust by the time we decided to take a break. Dad headed into the house to make some tea, and I sat, looking up at the roof. I could see the beams that Miller wanted to keep exposed. I pictured myself sitting in my chair surrounded by their history. I wondered how old the barn was, Dad thought it was well over a hundred years. If a building could talk, I bet it had some stories to tell.
“Hello?” I heard. I looked over to the door as it creaked open. “Dani, your dad said you were in here.”
Daniel walked into the barn. I stood, brushing some of the dust from my palms onto the front of my jeans. I held out my hand and he shook it.
“I was passing, thought I’d pop in and let you know I haven’t forgotten your quest for information. It seems our Anna is a bit of a mystery. We have a record of her being buried, of course, but there isn’t a great deal of information. I can say; her husband isn’t called Lincoln. Alan is his name. Now, I say husband, he’s listed as partner, so who knows?” he laughed as he spoke.
Do you know where she lived? I wrote.
“That’s the mystery. Not in this village, which confused me at first. May I?” he indicated towards the chair. I nodded and brushed off a couple of cobwebs.
“It seems Anna might have been born here but moved away, abroad it looks like. Those are her ashes in the cemetery. She didn’t have a service here, just laid to rest. Maybe it was her wish to ‘come home,’ which leads me to suspect the man you saw might not have been her husband, or partner.”
I sighed with disappointment. I’d built that image of Lincoln in my mind based on his style of handwriting and the man I’d seen that day. My curiosity was piqued further, though. Who was the man who tended to her grave, if not her husband?
Dad arrived with three mugs of tea, balancing on an old metal tray. “I didn’t know if you took sugar, Daniel, so brought a pot,” he said. He laid the tray on the workbench and dragged out a couple of deckchairs from underneath it.
“I think you’ll have to go first. If they collapse, I’d never be able to get back out,” he said, handing me one.
Once I’d figured out how to actually open the thing, I tested the blue-stripped material seat for stability. I cautiously lowered myself down. Aside from some creaking, it held. Daniel stood and held onto Dad’s arm as he sat. I didn’t think I would get out of the deckchair without either help, or throwing myself to the ground.
“Dani is going to turn this into a house, assuming we get the permission, of course. Do you have any influence at the council?” Dad said. I nearly spat the mouthful of tea I’d taken all over Daniel’s neatly pressed jeans.
Daniel laughed. “Sadly not, although I am a member of the parish council,” he gave Dad a wink.
“Well, give us a heads up if you think there’ll be any objections. I hear you’re keen on DIY, I have some great tools here, if
you’d like to take some.”
I mouthed the word ‘Dad’ and frowned in embarrassment at him. I grabbed my pad.
I’m sure that’s called using undue influence, or bribery, or something! And you promised Miller the tools.
Both Dad and Daniel laughed. “I don’t indulge in any form of DIY, Alistair. I’m sure Miller will have more use for them than me.”
“To be honest, Dani, I don’t see any objections to the conversion. I think people would rather see these buildings lived in instead of falling into disrepair. And think about it, I’m your only neighbour and I don’t object,” Daniel added. “Plus, I think Miller might kill me if I did.”
Dad and Daniel chatted back and forth and it dawned on me that they knew each other quite well, or appeared to. I made a mental note to ask Dad how. Daniel finished his tea and rose. He reached out his hand.
“Do you need help to get up?” he asked. I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. He did the same with Dad.
“Daniel, it was great to chat with you again. You and Miller should come to dinner soon,” Dad said.
I frowned. Were Daniel and Miller an item? I waited until Daniel had left.
What’s the connection between him and Miller? And you seemed to know him well; I thought he was new here.
“No,” Dad laughed. “They’re brothers! They both grew up here, I’m pretty sure you might have played with them when you were little. I’m sure you would have all gone to the same school, although I think they’re a little older than you. Daniel came back here when Miller got into trouble. Guess he thought he could save his soul, or something.”
I remembered Dad saying that Miller had previously had problems but didn’t know what. He’d said that Mrs. Hampton was a gossip and he hadn’t taken too much notice.
That night, as I brushed my hair after my shower, it dawned on me that I’d been in a different frame of mind; I hadn’t felt that deep sadness. Or if I had, it had been overridden by the activities of the day. I pulled on my pyjamas and climbed into bed. I’d enjoyed Daniel’s company; he didn’t seem to be a run-of-the-mill vicar. He was much more ‘modern’ than I’d normally expect, not that I knew many vicars, of course. It had surprised me to learn he was Miller’s brother. There was no resemblance at all, and it would be interesting to know their ages, there didn’t look to be much difference between them.
Letters to Lincoln Page 8