“I don’t know. Did you ask him?”
“No, he showed no recognition when I mentioned my name. Something else; he said he was in a home that was a mile away, and he said he had a car. But I’m not sure there was a car outside the cemetery, I certainly didn’t hear one being started, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe he was parked a little further down the lane,” Miller said.
“Could have been but…I don’t know, there’s something intriguing and I really want to get to know the Lincoln that writes to me, personally.”
“Why?”
“Why?” It seemed a strange question to ask. “I feel like I connect with him. I can’t explain it, Miller. There’s just something in what he says, in the words he uses. I feel for him, and he gets me. I’d just like to meet him.”
“What if he’s not what you’re imagining him to be?”
“I don’t think he will be, but I’d still like to meet him. I did mention about meeting in one of my letters, but I think I’m going to actually set up a meeting. I’ll tell him I’ll be in one place at a certain time, and if he would like to meet, he can turn up. If not, it’s fine, we can just keep on writing.”
“All sounds like something out of a book,” Miller said with a chuckle. “Anyway, what do you need in town? I need to know, roughly, where to park.”
“Oh, I noticed my dad kept a bottle of my mum’s perfume. It’s nearly empty and I’d like to replace it as a gift. I’ll buy something for Christian, although I don’t think we’ll see much of him for a while. He’s so angry at the moment, it’s taking its toll on Dad.”
“I can imagine. Okay, I’ll park in the pub car park, that’s pretty central.”
“Honestly, you don’t have to wait.”
“I’ll grab a pint or something, maybe do a little shopping myself. We’ll pick a time to meet back up, sound good?”
“Sounds good.”
I left Miller and walked to the small department store, hoping to be able to find what I was looking for. I browsed the perfume counter and was pleased to see a single bottle displayed on its box.
“Can I take that one, please?” I asked.
The saleswoman smiled and asked if I’d like it gift-wrapped. I nodded as I fished around in my bag to find my purse. With the perfume in a small bag, I browsed the men’s clothing. I’d noticed Dad wearing the same jumper over and over. He washed it, of course, but I wondered if he was low on clothes. He was never the type to go shopping for himself. I picked up a jumper that I thought he’d like.
I had no idea what to get Christian, or even if we’d see him. I wandered over to the books, hoping something might inspire me. I knew he had loved to read and I’d bought books he’d been pleased to receive in the past. I picked up a couple and read the back. My eye caught the yellow cover of a humorous book. I held on to it, wondering if it might bring a smile to his lips. Any other Christmas and I would have had a list of things that I thought my family would like to receive. That year, I was totally uninspired, other than the perfume and a bloody jumper. I bought the book, more to have something to wrap up and put under the tree I was yet to organise.
I walked the longer way round to the main doors, avoiding the baby and children section. Just the sight, from a distance, of pink and blue, white and yellow, miniature clothing hanging on rails had my heart miss several beats.
I slowly walked along the high street, dodging the women in a mass panic, buying their last minute items, and men idling along with no clue what to get their partners. It took me a moment to realise why my vision was blurry. The coldness that followed the tears as they tracked down my face was the only indication I was crying.
I turned on my heels and with a lowered head, quickly made my way back to the pub.
By the time I rounded the corner, and the pub came into sight, I was running. My heart rate had accelerated and I struggled to get my breath. I didn’t think I was particularly unfit and panic started to well inside me. My head felt fuzzy, noise seemed to swim around me until it became undecipherable. I barrelled through the doors and came to an abrupt halt. There weren’t that many people in the bar, but those that were all seemed to turn their heads to look at me. I scanned the area not seeing Miller before backing out.
I leant against the bonnet of Miller’s truck, taking in deep breaths and with my eyes closed.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I heard. I didn’t need to open my eyes to be able to know who the voice belonged to.
“I think I just had a panic attack,” I said between my deep breaths.
“Jesus, Dani,” he said.
I felt him step close and then his arms wrapped around me. I leant my forehead against his chest and with every deep breath in I inhaled his scent. It was earthy, manly, and it gave me something to focus on. He didn’t speak, just held me tight.
“I thought I could do that,” I said quietly.
“Do what?”
“Shop, be normal. I just wanted some gifts, but as I was walking down the high street I started to cry and I’m not sure why. And then I panicked.”
“It’s busy today, Dani, maybe it’s a little soon to be surrounded by so many people. You’ve been pretty isolated for a while.”
“It’s been months and months, in fact, nearly a year. I should have been able to walk down a street and buy gifts.”
I seemed fixated on the fact I hadn’t been able to buy gifts.
“It’s okay, no one is going to expect too much from you. Don’t overthink this. What did you get already?”
“I got my dad perfume, it was my mum’s favourite, and I think he uses it to spray his room, to remember her. And a jumper, I got him a new jumper. Erm, I got Christian a book, but I don’t think we’re going to see him and I’m sort of glad. He’s so angry right now, Dad and I just want some peace.”
I seemed to be speaking at a hundred miles an hour.
“Then you’ve done all you need to do, haven’t you?” He smiled at me.
“I didn’t get cards, or wrapping paper, or…”
“Dani, forget about cards, they go in the bin anyway. Send letters if you want to send anything at all. I’m sure I’ll have a cupboard full of wrapping paper since that’s all I seem to buy and I forget about the gifts!”
“I just wanted to do something normal.”
“What is normal anyway? You bought what you needed to; you did well. Congratulate yourself for that, at least.”
I nodded and missed his embrace as he stepped back. He walked to the passenger door and opened it for me. He placed his hand on my lower back as I climbed in and a shiver ran up my spine. It confused me, I felt conflicted.
“Do you want me to take you back home?”
“Is there an alternative?”
“We haven’t eaten.”
“I’m hungry.”
Miller smiled over to me. “Food it is then,” he said.
He drove for a while in silence. I spent the time trying to clear my head. Did I have feelings for Miller? I wasn’t sure what was going on. I enjoyed his company, I felt my skin prickle when he’d held me, even though that hold was in sympathy and not romantic. I closed my eyes and shook my head gently.
I was being daft. I was overly emotional and needy. I was confused and lonely. Miller was just a friend, nothing more, and I had to respect those boundaries.
Miller took me to a beach café with a difference. Nestled on the edge of a cliff, the view while sitting outside on the veranda was just amazing.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here before,” I said, as a waiter placed a couple of menus on the table.
“It’s a real hidden gem. We’ll have to come back at night, it’s a proper restaurant then,” he said with a laugh.
I picked up the menu and scanned. To call it a beach café was probably the wrong description, there was not one mention of fish and chips or burger on the menu. I chose an Asian seafood salad, and was assured that the seafood was all local.
“This is owned by an Australian guy. He came here to surf and never left,” Miller said.