Letters to Lincoln

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Letters to Lincoln Page 25

by Tracie Podger


  “Of course, yes, I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ll let me know.”

  The police left and exhaustion overtook me. Colette decided to make a late lunch, although I wasn’t sure I’d be able to push a sandwich past the nausea. I curled on the sofa, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

  The sun had set when I was shaken awake. Lincoln and Daniel stood in the living room and my heart froze.

  “What’s happened?” I asked, bolting upright.

  “Nothing. Dani, they haven’t found him.” Lincoln’s voice hitched as he spoke, and I noticed the tears in his eyes.

  “Why? I mean, they found his boat,” I said, not believing; yet fully understanding, what he’d said.

  “They have to call off the search at some point, until the morning.”

  “They can’t do that! He could be stranded somewhere, he’d be cold and…”

  “They can’t see, it’s getting dark. They’ve been out all day and so far, nothing,” Daniel said.

  I angrily wiped at the tears that had formed in my eyes. They couldn’t stop searching, not even if just for overnight. He could be hurt.

  “Where did they find the boat? They’ve concentrated on that area, haven’t they?” I knew the questions I was asking were probably stupid, but I wanted the answers.

  “Yes. The police told you the boat was damaged, didn’t they?”

  I nodded my head.

  “Our thoughts are that he moored up somewhere but the location the boat was found, there isn’t anywhere safe that he could be. They’ve searched the cliff face, much of it is pretty sheer; there wasn’t a ledge or anything he could have gotten to.”

  “Could another boat have run into him?” I asked.

  “If that had happened, there’s no way that wouldn’t have been called in,” Lincoln said.

  Daniel and Lincoln had sat on the sofa, Colette had left, and Dad was making yet more tea. I was thankful for a hot drink and something to fill my hollow stomach.

  Lincoln looked to have aged considerably during the hours Miller had been missing. The skin on his face was sallow and he sat wringing his hands in his lap. Daniel silently prayed, constantly. Maybe I’d been too harsh in how I’d thought of him. Perhaps he was just someone not able to cope with the level of stress I was sure they were suffering without lashing out. I had to thank them though, for keeping me included. I had no right to be in the middle of their drama, yet they’d welcomed me in and kept me informed, as much as they could.

  “I can’t bear the thought of him out on his own overnight,” I said quietly.

  “Neither can I, Dani. I just don’t know what to do,” Lincoln said.

  “I can’t believe they just give up like that,” I said.

  “I don’t think it’s a case of just giving up. They’ll go on for as long as they can, I’m sure.”

  “Can’t another boat take over? Search through the night?”

  “I honestly don’t know. If that was an option, I’m sure we’ll get to know.”

  I wasn’t sure if calling off the search soon was a fact or an assumption. I totally got that if the weather worsened it could be dangerous, but at that moment it wasn’t raining and the sea was just its usual December self.

  Daniel and Lincoln left with a promise to keep me informed if they received any news. Dad and I sat in a silent house.

  I hadn’t physically known Miller that long, but whether it be via the letters he’d sent or the conversations we’d had, I thought I knew him well. I kept his enthusiasm for my barn, and for his derelict cottage, in the front of my mind. I needed to remember all the times he made me laugh to push away the niggling negative thoughts that fought for dominance.

  “Will you eat something?” Dad said.

  “I’m really not hungry but I’ll make myself a sandwich. Do you want one?” I asked.

  “No, but I will. It will give us something to do, I guess.”

  It was the doing nothing that was the killer. Doing nothing gave the opportunity to think, and my brain hurt from all the thinking.

  Dad and I stood side by side and prepared a snack. Lucy whined for her dinner, and then to be let out in the garden. I stood in the garden for a moment while she did her business. I watched the poor thing struggle to walk and wondered just how long she was going to hold on, or rather, just how long Dad was going to hold on to her. I remembered back, not that long ago, when she’d sleep on his bed. When her arthritic legs stopped her from climbing the steep stairs, Dad had carried her for a while.

  It was the phone ringing that had me run back into the kitchen. Dad had gotten to the phone before me. He shook his head and mouthed that Christian was calling. I felt my shoulders sink and sighed.

  Minutes passed, then hours, and all I could do was sit and watch my phone. Dad turned on the TV at one point, just in time for the local news and an enlarged photograph of Miller. We watched, learning more about the search from the Lifeboat Station Manager than the police. Perhaps Daniel and Lincoln were being brought up to date that way as well. I had texted Daniel as soon as I saw the report. It appeared they had scoured the coastline repeatedly; they had been out to sea, following the current and back again. They commented on the boat and the belief that Miller might be holed up somewhere. They asked for people to be vigilant but to not put themselves in danger on the slippery cliffs. The more I watched, the sicker I felt.

  “Why don’t you have a lie down? I’ll let you know if there’s any news,” Dad said.

  “I might do, thanks. How was Christian, by the way?” I’d forgotten to ask.

  “Angry, as usual. We don’t need to worry about that right now,” he said, obviously keeping something from me.

  I nodded, it wasn’t that I didn’t care about Christian, but I was starting to feel very strange.

  As I lay on the bed, with the phone beside me, I focussed on the strangeness that I felt. My body had begun to feel weightless, and my mind was foggy. I didn’t believe it to be tiredness as I’d slept earlier on. My fingertips began to tingle, and it was at that point I recognised the same symptoms that day I was shopping. I closed my eyes and took in some really deep breaths, trying to oxygenate my blood and quell the attack.

  I pictured Miller in my mind, and the time he held me by the truck. Somehow that image morphed into the one where he kissed me. I wasn’t sure if the tingle to my lips was the low oxygen levels, hyperventilation, or just the memory. Those tears pricked at my eyes again. I felt something for Miller; I knew I did, although I had tried to deny that. I’d let guilt override my emotion and it was wrong of me.

  Trey had been gone for nearly a year, but should there be a time limit on dating again? If a second chance came along, should I not grab it with both hands? How often do second chances present themselves? I swung my legs over the bed; I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity of Miller.

  Miller, I miss you. I’m worried about you so much, and I can’t bear the thought that you’re alone right now. I don’t know if you’ll get this message but I want you to know that I’ll not only kick your arse when I find you, but I’ll kiss you so hard, too. You cannot leave me before you’ve even really arrived. I won’t allow it. Tomorrow I’m going to search for you and I won’t stop until I find you. You need me, Miller, and I need you. Come home, please!

  I sent him another.

  Maybe you can read these but can’t reply for some reason. I’m hoping that. I’m praying this will give you some comfort until we find you. When we were at your cottage, the derelict one, I said I didn’t remember you, but I did, in a way that might be difficult for me to explain. I can’t give you specifics about our childhood friendship, but everything is easy with you. I feel comfortable and I can only assume that’s because I was comfortable with you back then. When you held me, it felt right. So right that it scared me. More right than with Trey. When you kissed me, you affected me right to my core. More importantly, you not only affected my body, but my mind, too. I get you, Miller, and you get me. I u
nderstand your pain because I’ve felt it myself.

  It was a half hour later that I sent my last text.

  I’m going to write one last letter to Lincoln. Please respond to that letter.

  I grabbed a pad and pen and without a thought, I wrote.

  My dearest Lincoln.

  So much has happened these past few days, weeks, even. I know where to begin but I doubt I’m going to be coherent. I met a man, a wonderful man, a damaged man who needs me, and it feels wonderful to be needed.

  The last two years of my married life was a total farce; I can see that now. It’s only the whirlwind of a man named Miller, who has blown into my life and turned it on its head, that has my vision of the past so clear.

  This is my last letter to you, Lincoln, because from now, we won’t need them.

  We’ll talk every day. We’ll wake up together, and we’ll fall asleep together. You see, I had that light bulb moment that everyone talks about. I’m in love with Miller. I didn’t realise until now, and isn’t it terrible that it takes a tragedy to understand that? I always liked him, although he irritated me sometimes, but his passion for life and for righting his wrongs makes him a remarkable man. A man I want to spend a long time with. A man that I know can make me happy, and I hope that I can do the same for him.

  Shall I tell you when I had that light bulb moment? It was when my heart stopped, when the blood froze in my veins with fear and worry. It was when all I wanted to do was walk and scour the cliffs for him. It was when the thought of never seeing him again was unbearable. It was then, Lincoln, that I realised I was in love.

  I want to feel Miller’s lips on mine. I want to feel his hands on my body. I want to give myself to him, and I want to take him. I can’t do that if he doesn't come back to me.

  I’ll pray all night, and when the sun rises, I’ll walk for however long I have to until I find him. And if I don’t find him tomorrow, I’ll search the following day, and the one after. I’ll ask the sea to give him back to me. Annabelle would want that, I’m sure of it. She’d approve, Lincoln, I just know that in my heart.

  So, as I said, this is my last letter to you, Lincoln. It’s Miller I need now.

  I’ll be forever in your debt for bringing him to me.

  Dani.

  I folded the letter and placed it in a fresh envelope. There was something symbolic about using a new envelope. To me, it represented a new, fresh start.

  Then I prayed. For the first time in my life, I placed my palms together and I asked God to keep him safe until he was found. I apologised for my lack of faith in the past, and for the contradiction of what I was doing. However, I was desperate.

  I didn’t undress and ready myself for bed. I didn’t sleep. I checked my phone constantly and resisted the temptation to contact Daniel every hour throughout the night. I watched the sun break over the horizon, and when it did, I made my way downstairs. I was at a loss as to what to do for a while. I picked up the solicitor’s letter that I’d received and scanned through it. I decided to deal with that; I wanted all loose ends tied up so I could concentrate on Miller. I also wanted something to occupy my mind until such a time, as it was decent to ring Daniel. Not that I imagined he’d slept any.

  I wrote asking for evidence of Alistair’s parentage. I believed him to be Trey’s son, but I wasn’t going to just roll over. I confirmed Trey’s nationality and that, as he wasn’t a British national, I asked whether that would have an impact on a straightforward claim. I was praying that was the case, and the complication would have Helen back off.

  In my mind, I’d already resolved that I would give a sum of money for Alistair, not that I would mention that, of course. I didn’t owe Trey, or his child, anything. But Alistair was just a child, an innocent party in his parents’ illicit affair. I couldn’t move forwards and put all this behind me, if I left it unresolved. It was the right thing to do, for me, and for Alistair.

  I addressed another envelope and left the letter on the side ready for posting. Whether I initially thought about it or not, I felt I was closing up all that baggage I held and sending it on its way. I wanted to be clear of my shit so I could help Miller deal with his. Two broken people would get nowhere, in my opinion, but if I could be strong for him, we might stand a chance.

  “Any news?” Dad said, when he walked into the kitchen.

  “No, nothing. Dad, I’ve made some decisions. I’m going to sort out this Alistair thing as quickly as possible. I want to be able to help Miller with his issues so I need to let go of mine.”

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “I do. I didn’t realise just how much. Is that terrible? Is it too early?”

  “There’s no time limit on when you can start a new relationship, Dani. And don’t listen to anyone that would tell you otherwise. If you’ve found someone who makes you happy, then don’t let go of that chance.”

  “I think, and I’m sure I’m not going to say this in the right way, but had Trey been faithful, had I not found out what happened, I might believe it was wrong to move on so quickly. But his affair has freed me in one way.”

  “I can understand that, and I’m pleased for you. Everyone deserves a second chance. It can be very lonely getting old on your own.”

  “Did you ever want to find another wife?” I asked, as I set the kettle to boil.

  “I met someone a couple of years after your mum passed, but my focus was you children. You needed my full attention back then, and I didn’t want to share that with someone else.”

  “That’s a sad thing to hear. I’m sure we would have all adapted.”

  “Maybe, but I wasn’t going to take the risk. As hard as this is to hear, you have no ties, Dani. Even if you did, you go for it, if that’s what you want. You have an opportunity for a new life, grab that and don’t let go. If Miller feels the same way…”

  “He does,” I interrupted. He did, didn’t he? Yes. I wouldn’t let a shred of self-doubt cloud my way.

  “Then you’d disappoint me if you didn’t try to make it work with him. I doubt it’s going to be easy, he’s clearly a troubled man, but if anyone can help him heal, it’s you.”

  I stepped into my dad’s embrace; it felt like all those times from childhood when I’d needed his hug wrapped up in one. His belief in me nearly brought me to tears.

  “Now I just have to find him,” I said.

  “I think we need to let the experts do that. Although I’m up for some more scouting, of course.”

  I checked the clock on the wall to see it approaching six o’clock. I sent Daniel a text to ask if he had any news. He didn’t reply immediately, it was an anxious twenty minutes before he did.

  Nothing yet. The search is about to start again, they seem convinced he moored up somewhere, and the boat broke loose, because the mooring line is sheared in half. That is such good news for us. I know we’ll find him, Dani. I’m convinced he got to safety until the weather passed and is stuck, maybe until the tide turns. I’m going to an update meeting at the lifeboat station. Dad will stay at home. I don’t think he’s doing so good. Did you get any sleep?

  I sent him my reply.

  Not really. I want to walk the coastline again, maybe he might have moved in the night.

  Okay, let us know what you’re doing so I can tell the police. Daniel replied.

  I showed Dad the text messages while I unfolded his Ordnance map.

  “Where did we get to?” I asked.

  Dad pointed to a red line he’d drawn. We didn’t know for sure where the boat had been found but that could have drifted for miles. The currents in that area could be ferocious.

  “I think we drive to here and walk ten miles that way. The problem we have with some parts is we can’t get close enough to the cliff edge. Here is too dangerous, and this part is farmland.”

  I ran my finger along the coastal path, a designated path for walkers. It made its way inland. We’d either have to trespass and run the risk of angry farmers or cattle, or miss out huge s
ections of the cliff face. We were banking on Miller being conscious as we had been calling out to him. If he wasn’t; we’d never see him.

  “This isn’t going to work, is it?” I said, disappointed.

  “No, I don’t think so. If we could get close enough, there are overhangs all along this part from the erosion, and there’s no way we should be getting close enough,” Dad replied.

  The only other option was to persuade someone to take me out on a boat and sail along the cliffs. I assumed the fishermen were back out, as well as the lifeboat, and perhaps the Coastguard with their helicopter. Realistically, I didn’t think I was going to be much help at all.

  “I feel so frustrated, I just want to do something,” I said.

  “You know what you could do? Lincoln is going to be pretty lonely, maybe you could offer to sit with him?”

  “Good idea.”

  I texted Daniel back and told him I’d sit with his dad while he went to his update meeting.

  I’d appreciate that, I didn’t want to leave him at mine on his own, and he doesn’t want to go back to the home. He hasn’t slept; he might if you’re there with him.

  It was settled then. I grabbed an oversized handbag and stuffed it with a clean t-shirt and jeans, just in case I ventured out and got muddy or wet. I put in my phone charger and phone, then kissed Dad on the cheek. The first thing I did was to post the letter to Lincoln in the honesty box. Then I drove the Mercedes to Daniel’s, hoping that by the time I arrived, there’d be news. I hated the fact I was out of contact, even if it was just for the ten-minute drive. The car wasn’t advanced enough to have Bluetooth or some way of connecting my phone to a loudspeaker.

  I knocked on the front door and waited. Lincoln answered and it took all my resolve not to gasp at the sight of him. His shoulders were so hunched; he’d lost inches in height. His eyes were dull, the whites were tinged with red from either lack of sleep or crying, I thought. His hands shook as he reached out for me. I wrapped my arms around him and he openly cried into my shoulder.

 

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