“Let’s get inside,” I said gently.
I ushered him in, closing the door behind me. I held his arm and helped him into the living room. A blanket was strewn over the floor and the curtains were still closed. Lincoln perched on the edge of the sofa, while I opened the curtains and picked up the blanket. I folded it and placed it on the back of the sofa.
“Have you eaten, Lincoln?” I asked. He slowly shook his head.
“I’m going to make you something, and a drink. You need to keep your strength up for when Miller returns.”
“He’s not coming back,” he whispered.
“He is, Lincoln. I know he is.”
Lincoln looked up at me while slowly shaking his head. He patted his chest, near his heart. “I don’t feel him anymore.”
I clenched my jaw together initially; I sat beside him and held his hand in mine.
“Lincoln, we have to believe he’s out there somewhere. Please don’t give up on him, not yet. The boat had been moored up, he got to safety; we just need to find him.”
“I abandoned him when he needed me the most. I should have helped him more. I know both Daniel and I got so frustrated with him over the years, yet we missed that he was grieving himself. He threw himself in a gang because he didn’t have a family. I’m solely to blame for that.”
“No you’re not, Lincoln. Miller was old enough to know right from wrong, and you are talking about a lifestyle he led many years ago. It’s not relevant today. He took that boat out to let go, finally, of Annabelle, so he could move on with his life. That has nothing to do with what happened in the past. If he blamed you for anything, why would he have built that bungalow so you could live close to him? That doesn’t sound like a man who held a grudge, does it?”
Lincoln sighed.
“You lost your wife, maybe you lost your way for a little while, and that’s totally understandable. I’ve been there myself. Okay, I wasn’t married for as long as you were, but I bet you did the best you could. We are all adults, Lincoln, way beyond blaming our childhood for our poor decisions. Miller made stupid decisions; he knows that. But that’s all on him, not you.”
I could see what Lincoln was doing, but Miller’s life prior to prison had no bearing, in my mind, on why he took that boat out. I wanted Lincoln to understand that Miller made the choices he made, and perhaps they stemmed from the loss of his mother and the fact he felt abandoned by his family, but that was then. I didn’t want him to confuse the two.
I guessed it was quite normal, in times of utter despair, to question everything, to tear yourself apart, and I didn’t know the family during those troubled times. I wanted to concentrate on the Miller I knew, the man he’d become despite his past. I hoped I could convince Lincoln to do the same.
“I’ll make you some breakfast, Lincoln, and I wonder if you should try to get some sleep?”
He didn’t answer except to nod his head.
Daniel had a small kitchen, very old-fashioned, but then the church owned the house he lived in, and I guessed modernisation wasn’t in their budget. I opened cupboards and found tea and some mugs. I filled the kettle and let it boil, while I opened the fridge. Someone had stocked it with fresh food; at least I assumed it was someone other than Daniel. I decided to make Lincoln an omelette.
With the mugs in one hand and the plate in the other, I walked back into the living room. Lincoln had rested himself into the corner of the sofa and was sleeping. I placed the plate and his mug on the wooden coffee table and decided to leave him be. I imagined he felt comfortable enough to sleep with me being there. I sat in one of the chairs and placed my phone on the arm.
I hated the quiet. Silence allowed for my mind to wander to places I didn’t want it to go. I tried to think of books that I’d read, of songs that I’d loved, I wanted to fill my mind of anything other than my fears or Lincoln’s words.
I drank my tea, removed the plate and cup from the coffee table, and washed up. I cleaned the kitchen, not that it needed it, but I wanted to occupy myself. When I returned to the living room, Lincoln stirred. His panic and disorientation were evident, and I wondered if, in times of high stress, his early dementia was intensified.
“It’s okay, you fell asleep. There’s no news. Let me get you a fresh cup of tea,” I said.
I made Lincoln tea and another omelette. I was pleased to see that he ate it.
“I can’t bear all this waiting around, Dani,” he said as he sipped on his tea. “He’s been out all night, all day yesterday.”
“I know, but he’s a strong man. If he got to safety, which we believe he did, he’ll make it through one night and day.”
I had only just finished my sentence when my phone rang. Daniel was calling.
“Hi,” I said as I answered it.
“They’ve found him…” The phone crackled making it difficult to hear.
“Daniel! Where? Is he okay?” I looked over to Lincoln who had stood.
“They’ve found him but I can’t hear Daniel very well,” I said to Lincoln.
“Dani? Can you hear me?…hospital…hypothermia.”
I’d heard enough to let the sob I’d been holding in for so long escape. The call cut off.
“All I got was hospital and hypothermia. That means he’s alive, Lincoln,” I said.
Lincoln collapsed to the sofa and covered his face with his hands. He sobbed. I sat beside him and placed my arm around his shoulder. I cried along with him.
“Which hospital is he in?” he asked, eventually.
“Let me text Daniel.”
Daniel replied with the details, letting me know that they should arrive at the hospital in a few minutes. I wondered if he was travelling with Miller.
“Do you want to leave now?” I asked Lincoln.
“Yes. Yes, of course. I need to get to my boy. Oh, God, thank you, thank you,” he said.
It took us a half hour to get to the hospital; I texted Daniel when we arrived and was given instructions on where ICU was. Lincoln held on to my arm as we walked towards the department and the nurses’ station.
“Hi, this is Lincoln Copeland’s father. Can you tell us where he is?” I asked.
“His brother is in the family room, just down the hall. Why don’t you join him? I think a doctor will be coming to see you soon,” I was told.
Lincoln struggled to walk the short distance to the family room. His legs wobbled and I wasn’t sure it was relief or fatigue. I opened the door and helped him in. Daniel jumped up from the chair he sat in and caught Lincoln just as he started to fall.
“Dad, come and sit down,” he said, taking Lincoln from me.
“What happened?” Lincoln asked.
“They found him near the falls. He’d managed to get part way up the cliff and just behind the falls was a small cave. He’s broken his arm, they think, and has hypothermia. They’re stabilising him, warming him up or whatever they do. The doctor will come and find us as soon as he can.”
Harleson Falls was where Miller’s cottage was. It was where the river deposited into the sea via a waterfall. In winter, that river had often flooded, causing devastation to the local properties. I remembered the local council widening the banks and funnelling excess water off the cliff top. As a kid we’d play in the river, but I’d never attempted to get behind the waterfall.
“Did you get to speak to him?” I asked.
“No, he’s pretty much out of it at the moment.”
“How did they find him?” Lincoln asked.
“One of the search team remembered the cave. I know that area was searched thoroughly.”
“Not thoroughly enough,” Lincoln said, echoing my thoughts.
“Well, he’s been found, and for that we need to be thankful,” Daniel said.
We were then back to the waiting. I texted Dad to let him know the news, he replied that he’d just been told himself and was about to call me.
The door opening woke me, I hadn’t realised I’d fallen asleep, and the stiffness in my
neck and back suggested I’d fallen asleep where I’d been sitting.
“Mr. Copeland’s family?” a man asked, looking at some notes in his hand.
“I’m his father, this is his brother and his friend,” Lincoln said, not looking at us.
The doctor sat. “Your son suffered severe hypothermia, Mr. Copeland. He’s undergone what we call cardiopulmonary bypass, which basically means removing his blood, heating it, before pumping it back in. We’re continuing to, slowly, get his temperature raised, but at the moment, I’m afraid you’re son is classed as critical.”
“I don’t understand; is he going to die?” Lincoln asked.
“His temperature was so low that, from what I understand, the paramedics couldn’t detect a pulse. His body was shutting down. The process to warm him back up, I guess is the basic term, is slow. There is a risk he could go into cardiac arrest, his body has been through a lot of trauma. But he’s a fit man. I’ve seen plenty of people in his condition pull through.”
“Why was he half-naked?” Daniel asked. I saw Lincoln stare at him with a frown.
“There are a few theories behind that. Our best guess is that your brother might have experienced what we’d call paradoxical undressing. During that process, the muscles relax through exhaustion from the shivering. There would be a surge of blood to his extremities; confusing him into thinking he was overheating. Add that to the fact he was found in the small cave, which could have been terminal burrowing, your brother was very lucky to have survived.”
“Burrowing? What does that mean?” I asked.
“It’s often the case, and it’s believed to be a primitive reaction, the casualty will ‘burrow’ into a small space. It’s also referred to the hide and die syndrome.”
Silence followed the doctor’s statement. Miller must have been so close to death. I covered my mouth to hide the sob.
“Will there be any permanent damage?” Lincoln asked.
“Until we’ve got his temperature up and he’s conscious, I can’t tell you with any certainty. However, as I said, he’s a fit and healthy man, so I think there’s a possibility for a full recovery.”
“When can I see him?” Lincoln asked.
“He’s in ICU, so one family member at a time, but you can pop in now if you like. Our ward sister is a little ferocious; she’ll tell you if she thinks you’ve been in there too long. We don’t generally have restricted visiting for our ICU guests, but Lincoln isn’t the only patient on that ward, so we’d ask that you keep that in mind.”
The doctor rose and shook Lincoln’s hand. He nodded towards Daniel and me, and then left.
“Dad, do you want to visit him?” Daniel asked.
Lincoln nodded and Daniel gave me a smile before escorting his dad from the room. I wasn’t sure what to do. I decided to hang around for a little longer and then, I guessed, I would have to leave for home. As the doctor had said, only family were allowed around his bedside. I’d have to wait until he was moved to a ward before I could visit him.
I sat for about an hour before a weeping Lincoln was helped back into the room. I stood and took his arm, leading him to a chair.
“He looks so frail,” he said quietly.
I looked up at Daniel. “He’s very pale still but that’s to be expected according to the nurse.”
There was no offer for me to visit him, and I didn’t expect to. “I’ll make my way home, you will keep me informed, won’t you? And as soon as he’s up for visitors, I’d like to come back,” I said.
Maybe there was a little part of me hoping one of them would have said to go visit, even if for a few minutes, but all I got was a nod from Daniel.
I left the hospital totally thankful that Miller had been found and was alive, and entirely exhausted. The past couple of days seemed to hit me like a truck. I slumped into the car seat and rested my forehead on the steering wheel. I let the tears drip to my thighs. After a minute or so, I turned the car on, put it into gear, and reversed from my parking spot. I drove home much slower than I had recently.
I pulled onto the drive and Dad was already at the front door, I guessed having heard the car.
“How is he?” Dad asked.
“I didn’t get to see him but he’s alive. They’re warming him up, doing something with this blood, bypassing it, or whatever.”
“Why didn’t you get to see him?”
“I think it’s family only and Daniel didn’t offer for me to.”
Dad raised his eyebrows. “After all you’ve done? If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have known where to start.”
I couldn’t disagree, but I wasn’t family, so that was that. Obviously, had it been the other way around, I would have encouraged Daniel to stay and given him the opportunity to see whomever for a few minutes.
“I’m exhausted, thirsty, and hungry. I’ll give them this morning then call Daniel this afternoon to see if there are any developments,” I said.
Dad nodded and led the way to the kitchen. “I told Colette, she was thrilled with the news.”
“She’s very fond of him, I bet she was pleased.”
I sat at the kitchen table and let Dad wait on me. He had a cup of tea and a sandwich ready in minutes. I burnt my tongue on the tea but was grateful to have something warm inside me.
“I need to have a shower, and I think, a lie down,” I said, putting my mug and plate in the sink.
“Leave your mobile here. I’ll answer it if it rings. I’m sure I read somewhere that it wasn’t good to take your mobile device to bed with you, and I’m sure you’ll just keep looking at it.”
I smiled at him, not disbelieving him, and left my phone on the table.
My legs felt heavy as I slowly climbed each tread of the stairs. I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the shower. I stood for a few minutes, just letting the warm water flow over my head and down my body. The sting in my eyes was the only indication I was crying, my tears mingled with the shower water.
When my skin was wrinkled, and the water cooled, I wrapped a towel around my head and another around my body and walked to my bedroom. Still in the towels and slightly damp, I climbed under the duvet. I was asleep within seconds.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I slept through the day and night, waking before the sun had risen. I reached over to my bedside cabinet for my phone, feeling very disorientated. Of course, the phone wasn’t there. I was tangled in the towel and duvet; the one on my head had long since been discarded. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stretched out my back. I ached from sleeping so long. I caught sight of myself in the dressing table mirror as I crossed the room for my robe. I looked an absolute fright. My normally curly hair was frizzy and standing on end in places. I chuckled to myself.
I grabbed the robe and made my way to the kitchen. As I put the kettle on to boil, I looked around for my phone. I couldn’t see it and could only assume Dad had done what he’d told me not to, and taken it to bed with him. I made two mugs of tea and carried them back upstairs.
I slowly opened Dad’s bedroom door. Although asleep, he was propped up with pillows and my phone was on the side of his bed. I crept in and placed the tea on his bedside table, then picked up my phone. Whether Dad sensed me or not, I wasn’t sure but he startled.
“Dani, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing, I just wanted my phone. I’m sorry to wake you. I’ve left you a cup of tea,” I said, backing away towards the door.
“Oh, thank you. I must have drifted off.”
“What do you mean? You haven’t tried to stay awake all night have you?”
“I tried, but I don’t think I even managed that when I was in my teens,” he said with a chuckle.
“That’s daft. I would have heard the phone, I think. The ring tone is set to loud. Have a couple of sips of tea and then see if you can get some sleep.”
I left Dad and headed to my own room. I didn’t want to climb back in bed, as tempting as that was, because I knew I was likely to d
oze. Instead I sat in my chair, looking out to a calm sea and cursed it.
Mother Nature had decided to have the sea raging while Miller was out in his boat, to have the clouds darken and the rain to lash down. Now he had been found, she’d decided to calm the sea, clear the clouds, and let the sun shine. It dawned on me then that it was also New Year’s Eve.
I spent the morning moping around the house, checking the time, letting Lucy in and out of the garden, whether she wanted to or not. I called the hospital but because I wasn’t family, I wasn’t told anything. Eventually, as lunchtime came, I called Daniel. He didn’t answer so I left a message on his voicemail.
“Daniel, it’s Dani. I wondered how Miller was doing. Could you call me back when you have a spare minute? Thank you.”
In my frustration, I slammed the phone back on the kitchen table. I’d been involved right from the beginning, and I knew I had no right to be updated the minute Miller went into hospital, but being notified of his progress shouldn’t be too much to ask. I had to check myself. It hadn’t been long since Miller had been found; I needed to give them time.
I spotted the letter I’d written to the solicitor on the side and rifled through my purse for a stamp. A walk to the post box would give me something to do. I pulled on my coat and left the house. As I came to the end of the lane, I paused beside the honesty box. I was tempted to look inside and see if my letter had been taken, I knew it couldn’t have been, of course. I sighed and carried on walking. I deposited my letter in the small post box situated in the wall of Colette’s shop. I was about to walk away when I heard her call me.
“Dani, how are you? Is there any news on Miller?” she asked, rounding the corner of her building.
“No, I left a message for Daniel but I haven’t heard back.”
“Want to come in for a cup of tea?”
“That would be nice, thank you.”
I followed her around the side of the building to the door at the back that took us into her cottage attached to the rear of the shop. I had never been inside her house and was surprised by how modern it was. The door took us straight into an open-plan kitchen diner. I envied her light oak and stainless steel kitchen with its modern appliances.
Letters to Lincoln Page 26