Letters to Lincoln

by Tracie Podger

  “That won’t be hard to work out. I’m sure all your old school reports are in the barn. Although you’d need to know his surname, but we might be able to work out who’s still alive at least, narrow it down a little.”

  I paused, thinking about something Miller had said.

  “Do you remember Miller as a child? He said something, I can’t remember his exact words, but I told him I’d been on a boat, when I was kid, and he…Oh, what did he say?”

  I racked my brain for the words. “It was as if I should remember who the other kids were, I think.”

  “I do, I’m sure you might have played with him. All the kids used to gather on the beach. Things were easier back then, you kids had way more freedom than perhaps you should have. You’d go out in the morning and come home when you were hungry. Maybe he was on that boat with you. I know a few of their parents had boats, you used to moan that we didn’t but your friends’ dads did.”

  “I don’t really remember him, I wonder why.”

  “Who do you remember from your childhood?”

  We sat while we chatted.

  “I remember Katy, I wonder what happened to her. She had brown pigtails and was always crying if someone messed with her hair. The boys used to pull it all the time. Then there was, George, I think he was called. He was a snotty kid, always up for a dare.”

  “He died, in his teens,” Dad said.

  “How?”

  “Cliff diving, so I was told.”

  “Bloody hell! There’s nowhere local for that.”

  “Oh, I don’t think it was here. I can’t remember the facts. You know who you should ask? Colette is the font of all that goes on in his village. There’s not much she doesn’t remember, I’m sure.”

  I wondered if that was an excuse to invite her down again.

  “I think that might be a good idea. Maybe she’d like to visit later, for dinner?”

  “She has family visiting today, she told me. But I’ll give her a call and invite for the day after. I’m sure we’ll still have some of that turkey left over.”

  I grinned at the smile Dad displayed.

  “I don’t know why you two don’t make it official,” I said.

  “Whatever do you mean by that?”

  “Well, you’re both single, you have a fondness for each other, so call it what it is.”

  “Call it what it is? I’m not following. We’re friends, nothing more.”

  “Dad, you’d love for it to be more than ‘nothing more,’ I can tell,” I said with a laugh.

  “Well, young lady, you might be right, but at my age, friends is what we call it.”

  He laughed as he made his way to the hallway, no doubt to call her. I started to prepare us some breakfast. It had surprised me not to remember many children from my childhood. I struggled to remember anyone from secondary school, so I guessed I couldn’t blame myself, or my memory, for not going back even further.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Miller arrived earlier than I’d expected. I could hear the truck rumbling on the drive outside. I opened the front door and gave him a wave. I pulled a coat off the rack and shouted out to Dad that I’d see him later.

  “Hi, what a nice day for a walk,” I said, as I climbed into his truck.

  The sun was out and the wind had died down to a gentle breeze. Although cold, it was a perfect day for a stroll.

  “So you had a good day yesterday?” Miller asked.

  “I did, I think Dad did all he could to take my mind off other things. The only sad thing was not hearing back from Christian. I know Dad was a little upset over that.”

  “He’s not in a good place, I guess he’s avoiding the season and probably anyone who reminds him of the situation.”

  ‘Maybe, but the least he could do is call his dad.”

  “People do strange things when they’re in such a shitty situation, I guess. I’m sure he’ll call at some point.”

  “Mmm, not sure. Where are we going, anyway?” I asked.

  “Somewhere I played as a kid, maybe you did, too.”

  Miller gave me a smile as he turned the truck around and we drove off down the lane. It wasn’t long before we bumped down a lane that hadn’t seen a vehicle in years. Grass had grown through the cracked tarmac in the centre, and rain had carved ditches either side. I held on to the handle on the door as we dodged potholes. Eventually, we came to a grassed area on top of a cliff. Miller turned off the truck.

  “Look familiar?” he asked.

  “It does, there’s a staircase carved into the rock down to the beach, isn’t there?”

  “There is, but that’s not the way we’re going. Come on, put your coat on.”

  He reached behind to retrieve a jacket from the back seat and then opened his door. I struggled into my coat before stepping out. Being on the edge of the cliff meant the wind whipping off the sea was a little stronger. I fiddled around in my coat pocket for a hairband.

  “This way,” Miller said.

  I followed him down a small bank and to a brook that emerged from the rock and flowed to the sea. We walked alongside it for a few minutes until I saw a path carved between the bushes. Miller took the path and the mud squelched beneath my boots. I was glad I’d worn them. After a few minutes, we came to an opening. In front of me was a derelict cottage.

  “Wow, I remember this place. Wasn’t it supposed to be haunted or something?”

  “I imagine, as kids, we thought every empty house was haunted,” Miller said with a laugh.

  I watched as he pulled a key from his pocket and opened the front door.

  “I bought this place a few years ago. I’ve never gotten around to doing anything with it. Well, I’ve not had the inclination to do anything about it, to be honest.”

  We stepped inside the empty building.

  “It’s gorgeous, or could be. Look at that view,” I said.

  From the window, I could see miles of uninterrupted land and sea.

  “I decided, when I’ve finished your barn, I’m going to take some time out to work on this. I think it could make a great holiday rental, if I can sort out that access, of course.”

  “It would. Imagine sitting outside on a nice summer’s evening.”

  “Follow me,” Miller said.

  He walked into what I assumed would be a living room and to the back wall. He pointed to something written on the wall. When I stepped closer, I could see the faint list of names.

  “That’s me, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yes, I think so. And that’s me,” he said, pointing the name directly underneath.

  “So we played here together?”

  “Yes. And that boat you said you went out on? That was my dad’s, I was on it.”

  “I wonder why I don’t…”

  “Remember me?”

  “I wasn’t going to say that, but now you mention it,” I lied.

  Miller didn’t answer immediately, instead he walked around the room as if inspecting the whitewashed brick walls, rattling the windowpanes to check they were secure, and occasionally stamping on the bare wooden floorboards.

  “You’ll go through if one of those is rotten,” I said with a chuckle.

  He looked up at me and smiled.

  “How about I say something that might have you running for the hills?”

  “I’m not sure I’d be able to run anywhere, and if you already think it’s something I might not like, should you?”

  “It’s just a kid thing. You were my first ever crush. I used to follow you around a lot; I think it started when I was about ten or so. Like I said, a kid thing.”

  “Started?”

  Miller just shrugged his shoulders and didn’t answer my question. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not.

  “Did we play together a lot?” I asked.

  “No. I was too shy to join in. You were always so confident and such a tomboy. Your brother used to warn me off,” he said, laughing.

  “Warn you off?”

  �
�Yeah. I remember him calling me a freak, or something like that, because I used to follow you. Told me he’d give me a punch if I talked to you. I think, because of my dad, most of the kids were wary of me.”

  “I wouldn’t have been wary of you just because your dad was a vicar. And I don’t like that Christian did that, at all.”

  “We’ll never know, I guess.”

  “Tell me about the boat?” I asked. I had vague memories of it.

  “Dad wanted to take his boat out, I asked if I could go with him. You were at the harbour, with some girl, I can’t remember her name, and because Christian wasn’t with you, I took a chance to invite you. You hated it, if I remember.”

  “I did! I guessed I could swim but I don’t think I liked going out of my depth in the sea, and I’m pretty sure that might have been the year we watched Jaws on the TV. I know I was terrified of even getting into the bath on my own. You held my hand, I remember that part now.”

  Miller laughed.

  “I know, it was totally irrational but I was absolutely terrified of water,” I said, laughing along with him.

  “So you had a major crush on me,” I added.

  “I didn’t say major, I said you were my first,” he replied, smirking at me.

  “Major, first, whatever. I never knew. What about when we got older? I don’t remember you in my teens,” I said, feeling terribly guilty for saying that.

  “We left for a couple of years. Dad had to cover another parish for a while. I was about seventeen, eighteen, before we came back.”

  “And I was off to university at eighteen. That’s a shame, we might have been great friends again.”

  “One of the first things I did when I got back was to look you up. Of course, you’d gone, taken my heart and hopes with you, not that you were aware, of course.”

  I stared at him. He winked and then laughed. I shook my head and sat on the windowsill looking at him.

  “Well, I’m sorry for breaking your heart and dashing your hopes. Whatever can I do to make it up to you?” I said, joking.

  “Kiss me.”

  Miller walked towards me, I was frozen to the spot. He took my face in his hands.

  “Just one, for years I’ve wondered what it would have felt like to kiss you,” he whispered.

  I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. I sat staring up at him, in a derelict house, with goose bumps coursing over my skin, with my heart racing, and with my tongue running over my lower lip to moisten it. Whether any of that was conscious or not, I wasn’t sure.

  He lowered his head very slowly, not taking his gaze from me. I could feel his breath on my lips; he was that close. I closed my eyes and gripped the front of his jacket. Just as his lips were about to touch mine, I found my voice.

  “I have a date with your brother tomorrow,” I blurted out.

  Miller sighed, his breath ghosted across my lips. He rested his forehead briefly on mine.

  “Then I guess I’ll forever be wondering,” he said, and then pulled away.

  For the longest moments, we stood in silence just looking at each other. Miller took a deep breath.

  “I’m so sorry. That was about the most inappropriate thing I’ve ever done,” he said, no longer meeting my eyes.

  “I…”

  “It’s okay, no need to say anything. That was totally on me and I can’t apologise enough. Maybe we should start heading back.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked towards the door. My breath caught in my throat, my heart missed a beat, and sadness washed over me. If I was confused before, I was more so then.

  “I don’t want you to apologise,” I said to his retreating back.

  “I have to. I’d hate for you to think badly of me. Shall we?” He held the door open for me.

  The walk back to the truck was in silence. My legs felt heavy, I felt weary, and I wanted to reach out to him. I wasn’t sure if that was physically or verbally. I didn’t want his apology, because deep down, I knew I wanted his kiss. I needed him to understand, it had absolutely nothing to do with my date with Daniel, and I wasn’t even sure why I’d mentioned that. The date part was a joke, I thought. I wanted Miller to understand that although it had been nearly a year since Trey had died, and at that moment I hated Trey, a part of me felt I was betraying my marriage.

  Miller held the truck door open, he gave me a smile but I saw that it didn’t reach his eyes; there was no sparkle to them. I thanked him as I climbed in. I watched him walk around to the driver’s side. He removed his jacket and threw it into the back before taking his seat.

  “So where are you off to tomorrow?” Miller asked as he turned the truck around.

  “It’s not a date, I’m not sure why I even said that. I just agreed to go to the pub with him, that’s all. Why don’t you join us?” I asked.

  Miller laughed, although it wasn’t in humour. “No, but thank you for inviting me.”

  He mumbled something under his breath and I didn’t ask what it was. I guessed it wasn’t intended for my ears.

  I didn’t want for anything to sour our friendship but I was at a loss as to what to say. I’d had one boyfriend, and I’d married him. I had no idea what to do in that situation, but I knew I had to make amends; I had to get our relationship back on track.

  We arrived home way quicker than I was prepared for. Miller climbed from the truck but I stayed put in my seat. He opened my door for me, expecting me to climb out also.

  “Miller…”

  “It’s okay. I did something stupid, I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “Well, I wish you’d keep your mouth shut for a moment now,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Miller, I would have loved nothing more than to have kissed you back then. I need to tell you why I didn’t. It has absolutely nothing to do with Daniel; there is nothing other than friendship between us. I’m confused. I hate my husband, yet just as your lips were about to touch mine, guilt washed over me. I’m pissed off at that guilt because I don’t think I have anything to feel guilty for. That’s where the confusion comes. Why should I feel guilty about wanting to kiss another man, when my husband spent two years fucking another woman? And it’s not like he’s alive, I’m not cheating on him, but…”

  I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Miller pulled me from the truck and I stumbled into his chest. Before I could get a breath, he had one hand wrapped in my hair and pulled my face to his. His lips crashed down on mine with enough force for me to know they’d bruise. His tongue swiped across my lips as if requesting access. I gave it to him. I kissed him back as furiously as he was kissing me. My tongue tangled with his, I tasted him, and I inhaled him. Our teeth clashed and I could hear my ragged breath trying to pass between the seal his mouth had made. I could feel my heart beat so hard in my chest, and I could feel his as he pulled me closer. His hand tightened in my hair and I felt his other cup my chin, holding me in place.

  I raised my hand and gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. I wanted to force him closer to me, not that it was possible. I wanted to feel his body against mine, and I cursed the bulky coat I wore. I heard the low moan as it left my lips and it startled me enough to pause my assault on his mouth. I was aroused, so very aroused. More than I think I’d been in many years. I wanted to cross my legs to quell the ache, the need that pulsed through me.

  Miller stopped kissing me, but not abruptly. Although I’d stopped moving, my mouth partly closed, he gently kissed my lips. First my upper lip, then my lower one. He gently kissed across my cheek before whispering in my ear.

  “That was everything. More than I ever dreamed possible.”

  I released my grip on the back of his hair, all of a sudden conscious that I was standing in the driveway to my house. My dad could very well be staring from the living room window. I swallowed hard as he took a step back. He ran his hand through his hair and looked around. In fact, he looked anywhere other than me. Although I didn’t want
to, my eyes scanned down his chest. I could see his arousal through his jeans. That sight didn’t help to settle the ache between my thighs.

  “I think I should go. I just wanted to show you the house,” he said quietly.

  “Maybe you’ll take me back there, please?”

  He looked up at me; a ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “If you want to.”

  “I do.”

  He nodded, just the once, and then walked around to his side of the truck. I stepped to one side and closed the passenger door. I watched as he drove away without a backwards glance. I stood for a while, even when he’d turned the corner and was out of view. I touched my lips, still warm, with my fingertips and gently ran my hand through my hair where he’d gripped it. My scalp was a little sore.

  “Fuck,” I said.

  I ran my hand through my hair again, retying it neatly before walking towards the front door. I fished around in my pocket for my front door key and before I had it in the lock it opened.

  “Good walk?” Dad asked.

  I paused before answering, not sure whether he’d seen what happened.

  “Yes. Miller bought an old house that we used to play in as kids, I had written my name on the wall. The house is by Harleson Falls, do you know it?”

  “I do, you used to run home crying that it was haunted, or that might have been Christian, you were the tougher of the two.”

  “Well, he bought it a couple of years ago but hasn’t done anything with it. He’s going to renovate it after the barn,” I said, removing my jacket and not making eye contact.

  “I’m pleased that you’ve made a friend in him. You both deserve to have that friendship.”

  I wondered what Dad had meant by that statement, but I didn’t want to talk about Miller. I changed the subject.

  “Did you hear from Christian?” I asked.

  “No, I tried again, left another message. If I don’t hear tomorrow, I might ring around a couple of his friends, find out exactly where he is.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. But I don’t think you need to worry. I’m sure he’s just hiding out, ignoring the festivities. Did you call Colette?” I asked.