I didn’t feel I could ask what, he’d already lowered his eyes to the letter as if cutting off that line of conversation.
“I spoke to Patricia, Trey’s mother. She confirmed the affair, and the baby. Apparently, Helen had been to see Trey when we were in the hospital. She told Patricia that she would prove that Trey was the father, and she’d pulled out some of his hair. I guess for a DNA test?”
“I imagine so, but what the fuck was she thinking?” Miller shook his head in obvious disgust.
“Is Christian divorcing her?” he asked.
I nodded. “Then that might explain this. If he forces the sale of the house, assuming she can’t buy his half from him, she’s going to be desperate for money.”
I wasn’t sure those words made me feel any better about it, at all.
“Christian isn’t responsible for Alistair, but I don’t see how Trey is, either. He was dead before Alistair was born.”
“I don’t know how it all works, Dani. This letter is just to open up a line of discussion. It doesn’t say what she wants, or even what she’s entitled to, if anything.”
“Do you think I’ll have to go to court? I’m not sure I could do that right now.”
“I doubt anything would happen for months yet. Let’s just get you some representation and see what advice you get.”
“You’re a good friend, Miller, thank you. I need a friend right now. But can I ask you one thing?”
He nodded as he took a sip of coffee.
“I know you said you and Daniel weren’t close, but you seemed to act strangely towards me when I was with your brother. Why?”
“I wasn’t aware that I had, I’m sorry if you thought that. All his godly stuff puts me on edge, I guess.”
“I’m not sure that is the truth, but fair enough, you don’t want to talk about him, I get that.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about him, as such, there’s history there and it upsets me.”
“Okay, I’ll leave it there.”
He smiled his thanks and drained his coffee cup. “I need to get going, I have a job that should have been finished a month ago, but the homeowners keep changing their bloody mind. I’d like to get paid before Christmas!”
“What are you doing for Christmas?”
“I have no idea and it’s only a week away.” He laughed.
“If you’re at a loose end, you can come here. I’m sure we could do with some cheering up.”
“I’ll let you know in a day or so, if that’s not too short notice.”
“No, that will fine.”
He said goodbye, patted Lucy, who sat by the back door, and left.
I sat and read the letter for the umpteenth time. A stream of expletives left my lips as my anger grew. Who the fuck did she think she was? The least she could have done was to give me some time to come to terms with what had happened. A thought hit me. Christian had revelled in the fact that he was serving divorce papers just before Christmas. Did she know and this was a retaliatory gesture? I hoped the ball-breaker that Miller spoke about could deal with this.
If Trey was alive, and I’d discovered he had a child, I would be horrified if he made no attempt to financially support that child, but this felt different. He was dead, he didn’t have life insurance so the equity from the sale of the house and the compensation yet to come from the Criminal Injuries Compensation Authority was all I had. I had no idea if he even knew Alistair was his child. In fact, none of us knew for sure.
I thought back to when we’d discovered Helen was pregnant, just a few months after I was. He’d shown the usual surprise and congratulated both Christian and Helen, in fact, he’d taken Chris out for a drink and to ‘wet the baby’s head,’ albeit prematurely. I can’t imagine anyone doing that if they thought their mistress was pregnant. I was sure I would have seen some form of panic or distress in him.
Chapter Sixteen
A decision ran through my mind enough to have me shrug on my coat and leave the house. I walked with purpose back to the church. Although the door was still locked, I knew Daniel lived next door. Beside the church was a small cottage, and I sighed with relief when I noticed a gate to the side of his small garden that led straight into the cemetery. I knocked on the front door and held my breath. If I had the wrong house, perhaps the homeowner might know where he lived.
Daniel opened the door and I wanted to laugh. His hair was standing on end, in all sorts of directions; his t-shirt was covered in paint, as were his hands. And he wasn’t wearing trousers but a floral pair of, what I hoped, were swimming trunks and not pants.
“Dani, hi, come on in,” he said, moving to one side.
“I can see that you’re busy, I can come back another time, and maybe I ought to make an appointment since this is ‘church’ stuff,” I said.
He stared at me. “It’s good to hear you speak. I heard about your recent troubles, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that.”
It occurred to me then that I hadn’t seen him since I’d discovered the news.
“And ‘church’ stuff? Like serious church stuff because it is my day off, as you can see,” he said, sweeping his arm down the front of his body. The smirk he gave confirmed he was joking.
“Honestly, I can always come back.”
“No, come on in. I’ve been repainting the cottage, terribly, I could do with a break.”
I walked into the hallway and the smell of fresh paint nearly made me gag.
“How much paint have you used?” I said, eyeing a paintbrush so loaded with paint it was hard to see the bristles.
“I guess DIY is not really my strong point, but sadly, the church doesn’t pay enough for me to enlist the help of a decorator.”
“What about Miller?” I asked, following him through to a small kitchen.
“Ah, Miller. Have you seen inside his house? He might build beautiful homes for people but he has no time, and rightly so, for his own house.”
He hadn’t answered my question.
“Tea?” he asked.
“That would be lovely.”
“Okay, you take a seat, if you can find a clean one, and then we can chat about ‘church’ stuff.”
“It can wait, I really should have made an appointment.”
“No appointments necessary when I’m doing the work of the Lord,” he chuckled.
“I don't know if the Lord would be overly happy with my request.”
“Mmm, that sounds like a confession is required. Do I need to get dressed up?”
I laughed. “No. Thank you,” I said, as I took the freshly made mug of tea from him.
Daniel sat opposite me at a rickety, pine round table with mismatched chairs. A table way too large for the small kitchen.
“So what can I do for you?”
“Exhumation. How do I go about it?”
Daniel spat the mouthful of tea he had just taken across the table.
“Oh, Lord, I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing a tea towel to mop it up. “So, exhumation...”
“You might think I’m being totally irrational, but I don’t want Hannah in the same place as Trey.”
Daniel looked at me for a little while before answering. “You can apply for a licence to exhume a body, of course. You do that with the government. Then it will be up to the parish to determine costs. I have to say, I’ve never been involved in exhumation simply to move a body. I know it happens, sometimes people move away and want to take their loved one with them, but that’s usually when ashes are buried.”
He took a sip of his tea, all the while staring at me over the rim of his mug.
“Can I put something to you?” he said. I nodded my head.
“Right now, the level of anger you feel is justified. The shock of what you discovered must be off the scale. I don’t know what your religious belief is, whether you view those graves out there as simply a place for a body to be buried and the soul has left for a better place. Sometimes, I walk around the headstones, I find it comforting, but I’m often saddened when I see a child all alone. I don’t want to force my opinion on you, that wouldn’t be fair, but I would like to ask you where your decision stems from. Is it anger? In which case, could you give yourself a little more time before making that decision?”