Letters to Lincoln

It’s so hard to know what to write to comfort you. There’s a part of me that wants to ask you to find some comfort in the marriage that you remember, in the Trey that you, and only you, spent time with. You say you didn’t know, doesn’t that suggest that perhaps there weren’t problems in your relationship? I know that might sound strange. What man has a perfect marriage and an affair? A confused one, a selfish one, a man who maybe found himself in a situation he couldn’t get out of. Or am I making excuses for him? If he were alive, Dani, I’d punch him on the nose, for sure.

I think the only way to move forwards is to find some level of acceptance. Perhaps, in time, forgiveness, but that’s a big ask. I’m confident, Dani, that you will get over this, you’ll find your way again.

You have a future, a house to build, and a life to live. You can live that life to the fullest, or you can be swallowed up in your grief and anger. I don’t recommend the latter. You were given a second chance, Dani; you have to make use of that. I know that is way easier said than done, but he’s gone, sadly.

Would it have been any easier if he were still alive? Maybe, but maybe not. Sometimes, not getting answers is actually the better way. What would have happened if you’d heard the words that you most fear? This way, you can hang on to the belief that he did love you, despite what he did, and that he planned for Hannah. Hang on to that, Dani.

Your friend,

Lincoln.





It was the first time Lincoln had addressed and signed off the letter in the way he had. I believed that was because he was so sincere in what he’d written, and he viewed me as his friend. He was fond of me, enough to change his method of addressing me.

I read the last paragraph over and over. Could I hang on to something I wasn’t sure was true? Could I make myself believe that? Until the moment Christian had told me, it was exactly what I believed, anger washed over me. Trey was dead, Hannah was dead, and did I really need to know what I’d been told at all? Christian could have withheld some information, for my sake. He could have left me mourning the loss of my husband, a perfect marriage, and my child. Lincoln had said, ‘sometimes, not getting the answers is actually the better way,’ maybe not knowing at all would have topped that.

I put Lincoln’s letter to one side. Underneath was a large white envelope with the estate agent’s logo across the top. I held it in my hands, deciding whether I needed to deal with it at that moment. In addition, there was a small, plush, and obviously expensive one. The envelope had that slight velvety feel that suggested quality. There were no sender’s details. I turned it over and slid my thumb under the flap; it opened easily.

I slid out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it. I wasn’t sure what I was reading at first, or rather, I couldn’t absorb the content. I read it again, and one more time.

Helen had instructed a solicitor. It seemed that her child, Trey’s child, could be entitled to part of his estate. Trey hadn’t left a will, and I’d naturally assumed, as his next of kin, what was his, became mine. I shook my head. How could she? I strode from the room and banged on Christian’s bedroom door before flinging it open. His room was empty. I stomped down the stairs to find the house as empty as it was when I’d returned home. I knew where Dad was, but not Christian.

I paced the kitchen, desperate to screw the page in my hand into a small ball, to throw it on the fire or at least the gas hob. I couldn’t destroy it I knew that, but I needed to show it to someone, a solicitor that could act on my behalf. I had no intention of calling the parasites as instructed. It had been just a few days, and the bitch was already after what she could get. She hadn’t even given me a chance to get used to the idea she was not only fucking my husband, but he’d fathered her child. No, she had to go in for the kill while the wound was gaping. I wanted to scream as many obscenities at her as I could, but I knew, I’d never give her the pleasure of my anger. I’d never speak to, nor see her, again, I’d hoped.

“Hey, I thought I saw you,” I heard.

I spun round to see Miller at the back door.

“What’s happened, Dani?” he asked, I imagined he’d seen the anger, or the horror, or whatever expression, on my face.

I thrust the page into his chest, not daring myself to speak. He read.

“What a bitch,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you have a lawyer, other than Christian, of course?”

“No, but I’m about to find one. Know a good one? Someone so fucking ruthless, nasty, you know the kind you see on the television?”

“As it happens, I know a great company. Took me to the cleaners, I think they’d be perfect for you.”

I frowned. “When my wife left, she got absolutely everything from the house to the car, and even the dog. I miss that dog. She had one shit-hot lawyer.”

“I don’t want that lawyer, just one like him.”

“It was a her, a total ball-breaker, she was. I even asked her one day if she was a man underneath the tight skirt and the gaping shirt. She had more masculinity and less empathy than any bare-knuckle fighter I’ve met.”

“You’ve met bare-knuckle fighters?” I asked, more interested in that part of his statement.

“Many, but let’s get back to the lawyer. Seriously, Dani, this woman is ideal. She doesn’t give a shit about feelings, or children in your case, dogs in mine. The only thing she wants is to win every case she takes on. Now, I don’t know if she would be able to defend you in this, or whatever it is that has to be done, but it might be worth asking her.”

“Okay, how do I meet the ball-breaker?”

“I’ll find her details. I know I still have some paperwork lying around.”

I pulled a chair away from the table, wincing as the legs scraped against the tiles and then sat.

“How about I make a coffee? Mind you, you only drink tea, don’t you?” Miller said.

“Coffee or tea, I don’t mind.”

I scanned over the letter again while he made coffee.

“What happened to your dog?” I asked.

“Sam was his name, I’d had him as a puppy and before her. She took him to spite me; she hated dogs. She moved into a town, didn’t look after him, and he got run over. She didn’t even tell me until I receive a vet’s bill for his euthanasia.”

“What?”

“Yeah, bitch of the year award was split between the lawyer and her then.”

“Did you pay it?”

“No, of course not.”

“What happened?”

“The vet tried to take me court for non-payment until I showed them the divorce settlement that clearly stated she had received custody of the bloody dog.”

“That’s shocking.”

“Not as shocking as that,” he said, placing a mug in front of me and taking the page out of my hand to read again.

“Can she do this? I mean, Alistair is Trey’s child but an illegitimate one.”

“I don’t know, is the answer.”

I sipped on my coffee in silence.

“I came here to let you know I’ve had some unofficial feedback from my man at the council. He doesn’t think there would be any objection to the plans, other than to show a clear provision of parking for this house.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’ve left it that there is communal parking but if you sell this house, say your dad moves on or…We have to show there is enough space for two cars for this house without obstructing the two car parking space you need for the barn.”

“I don’t have a car, why do I need two car parking spaces?”

“Because the council insists on it. Although, it’s technically one point five cars for a two-bedroom house.”

“Okay, so you’ll do what?”

“I think a slight readjustment in landscaping is all that’s needed. To be honest, Dani, it’s my fault. I know about the car parking, I should have allocated for that.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter because we can alter it easily enough, I take it?”

“Yes. It’s already done. But, the good news is, I think this planning application will sail through.”

“Talk about sailing, did you go out in your boat?” I wanted to talk about anything other than the letter he was still holding.

“It’s not technically my boat but my dad’s. And no. It’s still afloat though, so that’s a good sign. There’s something I feel like I need to do, and I need the boat to do it,” he said, cryptically.

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