It took Daniel ten minutes or so to walk the few steps back to the bar. He was a popular guy, and although there weren’t many visitors to the pub that night, each one wanted to talk. He’d drunk a quarter of his pint by the time he made it back to the table.
“So,” he said.
“So.”
“Are we forgiven?”
“We?”
“Miller at least, he needs your forgiveness. I’d like it, of course, but right now, he’s more important. I’m going to ask you a favour that maybe I don’t have a right to. Please forgive him. Think about the reasons why he did this. He honestly had your best interests at heart. I don’t think he ever thought he would be spending time with you. It’s blown up in his face at the worst possible time.”
“What do you mean?”
“It the anniversary of Annabelle’s death. Like I said before, he doesn’t deal with loss very well.”
“What about my feelings, Daniel?”
I wasn’t about to be dismissed just for the sake of Miller’s feelings.
“Look, keeping Miller’s secret, my brother’s secret, is about the only thing I’ve done wrong, and I don’t believe it to be a wrong. I understand how you feel, I really do, but can you also look at the good intention? Miller never lied to you, Dani. Not once. He never denied it, either, did he?”
“No, he didn’t. Do you think I’ve been too harsh?”
“I’m not going to answer that. I do think that you’ve had the worst time yourself over the past year. I can see why you’d feel betrayed because you are still vulnerable, and I don’t mean that to patronise you. But those letters comforted you; they comforted him. Is what he’s done so very terrible?”
I couldn’t answer him. I sighed heavily.
“I don’t know now. It just felt so wrong, like I was being deceived all over again.”
“Dani, do you think that had you not been through what you have, with Trey’s affair, you might not feel so strongly. I get that you’re upset, no one would expect less, but…”
“Am I overreacting, you’re going to ask me. Yes, and no. I don’t know.”
I took a large gulp of the wine, now tepid. I reached into the wine bucket and pulled out a couple of pieces of ice, which I deposited in the glass.
“I thought I had every right to be upset, now, although I’m still a little disappointed, I guess it’s not as awful as I initially thought. Especially now you’ve explained Miller’s situation a little more.”
“Miller is a good man, Dani. He’s not good at verbally articulating his feelings. He does that through his work, and I guess, letters.”
I remembered back to Miller visiting the barn that very first time and his appreciation of the wooden beams; how he wanted to keep them exposed because they told a story, the history of the barn was engrained in the wood.
“I did send him a text yesterday, he hasn’t replied. I’ll try calling him tomorrow,” I said.
Daniel smiled. “Now, shall we get back to our date? Remember, I’ve got a fake reputation to keep up.”
“I don’t know why you do that. Why not come out?”
“Because this is a small village of mostly old folks. And I like to keep my private life, private. It’s hard to have a life outside the church at the best of times, and it’s not like I get a lot of spare time to have a relationship. I’m married to my job, and I quite like it.”
I raised my glass, “Well, here’s to fucked up Copelands, old folk, and the church.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We didn’t mention the letters for the rest of the evening. In fact, we chatted about absolutely everything from village and vicar life, to my time in London. At the mention of London and a life that was so far removed to what I had now, it was a sense of nostalgia instead of remorse that flowed over me. I was pleased about that. I wanted to remember that period of my life with fondness, excluding Trey, of course. My level of empathy didn’t extend to forgiving my cheating husband.
“Have you thought any more about your plans for the exhumation?” Daniel asked as we walked out to the car.
“No. I guess at some point I’ll be able to visit Hannah and just learn to ignore him. I don’t think I can put myself through the stress of it all right now. I’ve got a letter at home to deal with. A solicitor wrote to me on Helen’s behalf. They want to invite discussion on Alistair inheriting part of Trey’s estate.”
“Can they do that?”
“They can invite me to a discussion, whether they can get any money from me, I have no idea. I found out a child, even an illegitimate one is entitled to part of its father’s estate. I’m banking on the fact Trey was American to complicate things.”
“Is that…?”
I held up my hand. “Don’t go there, Daniel, please. Right now, I don’t care if it’s fair or not. It’s bloody poor timing and it’s come about because Helen is desperate for money, not because she truly believes Alistair should be entitled to anything. She’s looking out for herself, not her child.”
“Okay,” he said, opening the car door for me.
We drove home while still chatting, mainly about Daniel’s love of his job.
“I’ve had a lovely time, thank you for our date,” I said with a laugh.
“So have I, and if I’ve upset you in any way, I am truly sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m pretty sure I’ll survive. You might have to buy me dinner sometime to make it up to me.”
“Anytime. It’s nice to get out and have a friend,” he said.
I said goodbye and walked to my house. All the lights were blazing so I guessed Dad was back from his date with Colette.
“I’m home,” I called out as I walked through the front door.
“In the kitchen, do you want a cup of tea?” Dad replied.
“Yes, please,” I said, as I kicked off my shoes and hung my jacket up.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked.
“It was interesting. I learned a lot about Miller and Daniel. I think I’ll call Miller tomorrow and see if we can meet up.”
“We’ve got some storms coming in over the next couple of days, maybe you should arrange for him to visit you here. I’m not sure my old car is suitable for driving in the rain.”
“I will, but I’m sure you’re car is waterproof,” I replied with a chuckle.
“I’m thinking more of you aquaplaning into a hedge. I’m rather fond of Mertle.”
“Mertle?”
“Mertle the Mercedes,” he said, smiling as he handed me a cup of tea.
His car was, I guessed, a classic and he’d owned Mertle for many years.
“I’ll be sure to invite Miller here. I wouldn’t want to hurt Mertle if I can help it.”
“Good girl. Now, I’m off to bed. Colette can talk the hind legs off a donkey, my poor brain needs to just chill in the dark for a while.”
Dad walked away and my laughter followed him. I sat at the table in the silence and thought. I hadn’t laughed so much in ages. It surprised me not to feel the usual guilt that followed any miniscule period of happiness. Maybe I was finally moving forward, as Miller/Lincoln said I would.
I turned off the lights and made my way to bed. Storm or no storm, I was determined to track Miller down the following day and talk. And maybe apologise, depending on how it all went.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was a clap of thunder that woke me in the early hours of the morning. Or so I thought. In fact, although there was a storm howling outside, it was the vibration of my phone against the wood of the cabinet. I reached over, initially knocking it to the floor. I cursed as I fumbled with the light.
I reached down for my phone and saw a text message.
Yes, good to talk. I have something to do. Will be in touch. Miller.
It didn’t dawn on me for a little while just how unlike Miller that text was. Not only was it very clipped but the time it was sent, just after four in the morning, seemed strange.
I shuff
led up into a sitting position and double-checked the time with the clock on the chest of drawers.
Are you okay? I typed.
Letting her go soon, he replied.
Letting her go? I frowned as I tried to work out what he meant. That little niggle that I’d felt before started in the back of my mind. I pulled the letters out from Lincoln.
In one he’d mentioned about cutting off his wife’s hair and keeping it. He’d also said that he would throw that hair out to sea at some point. Were we at that some point? I looked out the window at the rain lashing down. Although too dark to see the sea, I had no doubt it would be raging. I pictured the boat Miller had taken down to the harbour; it wasn’t particularly big, more something to sail for fun on a calm day. I hoped he wasn’t thinking of taking that boat out. If he was, I prayed by the time the sun came up, the weather had abated.
I didn’t want to call Daniel at that time of the morning, but I was anxious for Miller. I didn’t think the weather was right for that boat, and I wondered what his state of mind was.
Are you talking about taking your boat out? Miller, would you wait? At least until this storm breaks. Maybe having company might be a nice thing as well?
I held the phone for ages but no reply came. An hour passed, with me deliberating, until eventually, I decided I needed to call Daniel. It might be an overreaction, but I’d rather that than Miller launching a boat in a storm while mentally in a mess.
The call rang and just as I thought it was about to go to voicemail, Daniel answered.
“Hello?” Daniel said, groggily.
“Hi, I’m so sorry to call this early but I’m worried about a text I received from Miller,” I said.
“What text?” he asked, more alert.
I repeated what Miller had sent me.
“Shit. He was passed out when I looked in on him earlier. There was an empty glass on the table, I think he’d been drinking.”
“He had a drink when I visited him. Is he supposed to be sober? He told me he can drink and it doesn’t mean he’ll want more.”
“He was teetotal for a long time. I know he takes a drink every now and again; he seems to be able to control it now. But that still doesn’t sound good, especially sending you that text at that time. I’ll go over and see what I can find out.”
“Will you call me when you get there?”
“Of course, and thank you for letting me know.”
Daniel cut off the call and I climbed out of bed. I pulled on my jeans and a jumper and made my way downstairs, there was no way I could stay in bed.
I made myself some tea and sat watching the phone. It seemed that time slowed down, the clock on the screen took forever to change from one minute to the next. Eventually, it lit up and I received a text.
He’s not here, and neither is the boat. Daniel.
I typed back. He took the boat to the harbour a few days ago.
That’s where I am, no boat. The sea is way too rough for that little boat.
I didn’t reply but called. It was taking too long to type a message.
“How good a sailor is Miller?” I asked when Daniel answered.
“I don’t know the last time he ever took that boat out. I’m surprised it floated. Dani, it hasn’t been on the water for at least a couple of years.”
“Are you at the harbour still?”
“I am. I’m hoping I might catch a fisherman or two. Or maybe I should call the Coastguard?”
“I would. I’m on my way.”
Before he could reply, I cut off the call and started to leave a note for Dad. I grabbed a jacket and slipped on my boots, not bothering with the laces. I picked up the car keys and pocketed my phone. I raced from the house.
The screech as a branch caught the side of the car, in my haste to race down the lane, had me wincing. Whatever damage I’d caused, I’d repair. I took one wrong turn and had to reverse back up the lane to the junction but eventually made it to the harbour. Daniel was without a jacket and soaked through, he was pacing up and down.
I pulled my coat on and left the car. As I flipped up the hood, he noticed me.
“Anything?” I called out. The rain was lashing so hard it was difficult to be heard.
“No. I’ve tried his phone; it just rings. I’ve called the Coastguard, they’ve put a call out for any nearby boats and will launch soon. I’m waiting on a call back from them.”
“What can we do?”
“Nothing, we just have to wait.”
Even with a jacket and the hood up, I was getting soaked. My jeans chaffed against the skin on my thighs that had goose bumped with the cold. I began to shiver. While we stood, I scrolled through my phone for the local Royal National Lifeboat Institution, wondering if they would be called in to help. A few minutes later, three men walked down the slipway towards us.
“You looking for the missing lad?” one called out.
“We are, do you know anything?” Daniel asked.
“No, but we heard it over the radio, we’re going out now to help search.”
“Oh God, thank you so much,” I said.
“If he had any good sense, he’ll have headed into one of the coves for shelter. We’re going to stick close to the coastline, there’s another boat launching just up the bay. We’re coordinating with the RNLI,” he said.
“I don’t know if good sense is his priority right now,” Daniel said. I looked sharply at him. I wasn’t sure three strangers needed to know that.
They nodded before walking away to a boat that was moored beside me. It looked a lot more robust and seaworthy than the small thing Miller was out on.
“Why don’t we wait in the car?” Daniel asked. I nodded.
“They’ll find him,” he said, as he climbed into the passenger seat.
“I hope so. He could sail up here any minute and get cross that we’ve made such a fuss. Can we get arrested for wasting the Coastguard’s time?” I asked.
“I doubt it. And if he did rock up here, I’d kick his bloody arse.”
Blue and red flashing lights reflected in the rearview mirror. I watched as a police car pulled up behind us. For some reason, seeing the police attend seemed to make it feel way more serious than I hoped it was.
We watched as they donned long waterproof jackets and caps before walking to our car.
“Mr. Copeland?” one asked.
“Yes, and it’s Daniel. Thank you for coming out.”
“I think it might be best if we talk in here,” the officer said as he opened the rear door.
Both Daniel and I turned in our seats.
“Lincoln Copeland is your brother, I take it. Can you give me as many details as you know?” He opened a pad as he spoke.
Daniel relayed all the information I’d given him and our concerns for Miller’s welfare. They asked to see the text messages and made notes of the calls Daniel had made to both Miller and the Coastguard.
We couldn’t answer any questions as to what he might be wearing, and I wanted to kick Daniel when he mentioned that Miller might have been drinking and that he had a drinking problem in his past.
“He was late teens, early adult, though,” I said, hoping to allay the fears they were on the hunt for a drunkard.
“I also think I know why he took the boat out,” I added.
Daniel looked at me. I addressed the policeman behind.
“Miller wrote to me, in those letters he talked about his wife. She died of cancer but before she died, he had to cut off her hair. He kept that hair. I think he’s sailed out to throw her hair overboard. She wanted to be a marine biologist, loved the sea. I think he thought it would be fitting to let the sea have that little piece of her.”
“I didn’t know that,” Daniel said quietly.
“Were you close, Mr. Copeland?”
“No, not for the past few years.”
“What state of mind do you think Lincoln is in?” the officer asked, directing his question to me.
“We had a small falling out,
but I’m not sure that was the reason for his decision to take his boat out.”
I was desperate to convince them, or maybe it was myself, that he wasn’t in a bad way, even knowing that he probably was.
“I understand there are two lifeboats out, and a few fishing boats scouring the coastline. At this moment, all I can say is to hang tight, here or at home, and as soon as we have any news, we’ll be in touch.”
“If we decide to go home, you have my details, you will call, won’t you?” Daniel asked. I could hear the panic in his voice.
“Of course we will. I’d suggest going home, get back into some dry clothes.”
The police left and sat in their car. I could see one talking on his radio. The windows in our car had started to steam up with the condensation from our clothes; despite the heating on full blast, I still shivered.
“Do you want to head home?” Daniel asked.
“No, do you?”
“I think we should. Come back to my place. I think I need to call Dad.”
“Would the police have checked Miller’s house?”
“I imagine so…I don’t know, to be honest.”
I put the car in gear and we drove slowly towards Daniel’s house without speaking. I found myself feeling sick with worry. And full of regret that our last encounter had been so fractious.
I wasn’t sure if the shivering that had every limb jolting, was from the cold or fear. Daniel had offered me the use of his shower, but I declined. I did, however, accept a pair of dry joggers and a sweatshirt. I used his bathroom simply to change and bundled up my wet clothes. The dry clothes did nothing to stop the ice that seemed to run through my veins.
We sat and drank endless cups of tea, checked our phones on a regular basis, and Daniel called his dad as the sun was rising.
“How did he take the news?” I asked.
“He’s on his way over. I don’t like that he still drives, he really shouldn’t with his condition, but to take away his car is the last bit of independence he has. So far he hasn’t managed to crash it, or worse, knock someone down, but his reaction speed isn’t what it should be.”
Letters to Lincoln Page 23