I wasn’t entirely sure when I’d come to that decision. The more I thought, the more I wanted just to put some form of closure on this, resolve it in my mind, and concentrate on something positive. I was sick of the misery that flowed through my veins.
I walked up the stairs, wanting to get my mobile phone. As I sat on the edge of the bed, I remembered I didn’t have Daniel’s number. But I did have Miller’s.
“Hi, I’m sorry to call, but I wondered if you had Daniel’s telephone number?” I asked when he’d answered the phone with a greeting to me.
“I do, but it’s on my phone, and I can’t put you on hold while I find it, I don’t think,” he said. “Why?”
“He invited me out, and right now I need to get out.”
“Oh. You’ll have to let me call you back.” There was something in his voice that worried me.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Sure, let me call you back.” He cut off the call, rather abruptly, I thought.
I sat for a while, holding the phone in my hand. It shouldn’t take as long as it was for him to write down a telephone number and call me back.
I rose and walked to the chair by the window, it was my favourite spot in the whole house. I sat and looked out to sea. Someone had erected a Christmas tree on the beach; I knew there would be one in the square and wondered when the ‘turning on of the lights’ ceremony had been. I remembered going to that religiously as a child. We’d sing carols and drink hot toddies, child-friendly hot toddies, of course. It also occurred to me that I hadn’t bought one gift, sent one card. I checked my phone for the date, I wasn’t even aware of what that was. Christmas Eve was just three days away. I felt a tear prick at one eye when the phone vibrated in my hand.
“Sorry, I took another call and couldn’t get rid of them. Anyway, do you have a pen?” Miller said.
“I do, but, and I know this is a strange request. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“I can spare some time, what’s up?”
“Would you run me into town? I’ve just realised the date and I haven’t bought one gift yet.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t suppose anyone would be too worried but, yes, of course I can. What time?”
“Mid-morning, maybe?”
“I’ll pick you up at eleven.”
“That would be great, thank you. I don’t trust myself to drive, and trust Dad’s car even less to get me there and back.”
“When did you last drive a car?”
His tone of voice was so comforting; I rested back in the chair and let it wash over me.
“Years ago, I might look at getting an automatic.”
“I’ll give you a lesson in the truck. There’s not much damage you can do to that beast,” he said.
“I can’t drive your car, what if I crash it?”
“Then the insurance will repair it. Tomorrow, eleven, okay?”
“Eleven, and thank you. I really do appreciate it.”
We said goodbye and it didn’t occur to me until some minutes after, I hadn’t taken down Daniel’s telephone number.
Chapter Seventeen
Christian was gone when I woke the following morning.
“Did you two fight?” Dad asked, when I walked into the kitchen.
“We had words, why?”
“He’s decided to stay with a friend in London for a few days.”
“A few days? It’s Christmas Day in a few days.”
“I don’t think he’s thinking straight enough to know what month it is, let alone how close to Christmas. Can I say something that’s probably a terrible thing to say?”
“Go on.”
“I’m a little glad. I think he needs someone to talk some sense into him. He’s gotten so angry it’s consuming him, and he’s beyond our help. I get the anger, I really do, but it’s so hard to live with. I never know what to say for fear of it being the wrong thing.”
“That’s not a terrible thing to say, Dad. He can’t see beyond his own upset, and I understand how selfish, unintentionally, that makes us. I include myself in that, Dad.”
“Dani, you’ve had much more to cope with this past year. I’ll be glad to see the back of it, to be honest.”
Dad had always been one of those guys who truly believed a new year would bring a ‘new’ year. I remembered at midnight on New Year’s Eve, he’d raise a glass to us all and tell us to leave whatever problems we had behind as we counted down to the first day of a new month and a new year. He’d make us write down our troubles, and on the stroke of midnight we’d throw the paper on the fire.
“It’s not that I’m unsympathetic to his situation, I just don’t know what to say or do for the best, and it seems no matter what I try, it’s wrong. I’ve never seen him this angry before. He flew at me…”
“He what?” I asked, my voice rising on each word.
“Verbally, Dani, not physically. Although I had to leave the room, in fact, I left the house hoping to diffuse the situation.”
“You cannot be driven from your own home, Dad, by someone’s anger. He got angry with me over a letter I received from a solicitor. Helen is ‘investigating’ whether she can get some money from Trey’s estate. I think, legally Alistair might be entitled to something, but Christian flew off the handle about it. He thinks I’m too calm about it all,” I said, shaking my head.
“You have always been the thinker and he’s always been the one to act without thinking first. He’s become so bitter that it worries me he won’t be able to come back from that.”
“He will, Dad, and hopefully some time with his friend might do him the world of good.”
Dad patted my arm, as was his way.
“Is there anything you want from town? I’m popping over there at eleven, just for a couple of hours.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“When I get back, we’re getting those decorations from the loft, okay?”
“Well, I already did. I put them under the stairs.”
“Then we’ll get them out, dust them off, and go get a tree.”
I was out in the front garden when Miller arrived. He reversed into the drive and I climbed into his truck.
“I really do appreciate this. You can leave me there and I’ll get a bus, or something, home.”
“You’ll have to think of the ‘or something’ since there isn’t a bus route here. And you’re welcome. I wasn’t up to much anyway.”
“Daniel was painting when I visited him, you could always help your brother?” I said, gently.
Miller looked over at me with raised eyebrows.
“You and Daniel seem to be getting on extremely well, something I should know?”
I frowned at him, but then realisation dawned on me. “What? No! He’s a vicar.”
“He’s allowed a partner.”
“I don’t…No, we’re friends, I think.”
“You think?”
“Can we just change the subject? Now, Christmas Day, did you think any more?”
“I haven’t, sorry. Daniel does his church stuff, and then he goes to an old people’s home for lunch and another sermon, or carol concert, I can’t remember.”
“Talking about old people’s home. Did I tell you about the letters I receive?”
I knew Miller had handed me the envelope one time, but I couldn’t remember if I’d ever told him what was in it. As much as I hadn’t known him for a long time, he had seen me at my lowest and I believed I could confide in him.
“I don’t think you did.”
I told him about Lincoln. Miller kept his eyes firmly on the road, but I noticed his jaw work from side to side.
“And then, I met a Lincoln in the cemetery, although I don’t think it was the same Lincoln. How odd is that? What are the chances of two Lincolns in this area?”
The truck swerved and I grabbed the handle on the door.
“Jesus, what was that?” I asked.
“Sorry, I thought that badger was about to run out of the hedge. You okay?”
I hadn’t noticed a badger, and weren’t they nocturnal? “Yes, I’m fine. You startled me a little, that’s all.”
Miller was mumbling, and I swore I heard the word ‘badger.’
“Miller, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing, sorry. I just hate to run something down if I can help it. I’d rather scratch the fuck out of the truck,” he said, smiling over to me.
He seemed back to his old self, the one prior to my tale of the two Lincolns. I wasn’t done though.
“I think the Lincoln in the cemetery might be the Lincoln who writes to me, but he didn’t want me to know. Do you think that’s possible?”