“Until you, every woman he’s met, he’s compared to her. No one measured up. He talked to me about you a while ago, about how different to Annabelle you are, and how refreshing he found that. I’m probably not using the right words here, but I guess he saw something in you that he saw in himself, kindred spirits, or whatnot. He seemed to know what he had to do to free himself completely of the tie to Annabelle.”
“I don’t understand, why would he want to free himself? He loved her, she died, wouldn’t he want to keep that?”
“He felt he couldn’t fully move on until he’d done all the things she’d asked him to do. She’d asked him to cut off her hair, she’d asked him to throw that out at sea before she died. Don’t ask me why, I don’t understand her thinking. He told her he had, but he lied to her. He lied with all good intentions. He needed to keep something of hers and it was that. Somewhere in his mind, right now, he wants to right the wrongs.”
“He told me that in a letter. He said he had a lot of wrongs to right,” I said.
“And he’s doing that so he can truly be free from his past self, and capable of moving on, I guess.”
I didn’t believe for one minute that Miller was doing all that just for me. I thought it coincidence, and perhaps the letter writing had opened some old wounds, the sticking plaster no longer able to hold him together. Although he had known me as a child, in adulthood it had only really been a few months. As much as I was fond of him, and he certainly managed to have me aroused on occasions, I wasn’t in love with him any more than he was in love with me. I didn’t think so, anyway.
Daniel decided to make a pot of coffee, more for something to do, I guessed. Lincoln and I sat in silence. Time moved on so slowly it was agonising. I constantly checked my mobile, hoping that he might text or call. That he might have decided not to take the boat out and was sitting in his truck somewhere.
“Truck!” I said.
“What about the truck?” Lincoln asked.
“His truck wasn’t at the harbour. Maybe he didn’t take the boat out; maybe someone stole it, or something. You did check the boat wasn’t still at his house, didn’t you?” I asked Daniel, as he walked back into the room with the coffee pot on a tray.
“Of course. It’s usually beside the cottage; there was nothing there. We didn’t check the car park, Dani. You can’t leave your vehicle at the harbour. You launch, then go and park. But I’m going to call the police and see if we, or they, should check.”
He placed the tray on the coffee table, and Lincoln poured coffee while Daniel left to make the call. It seemed so stupid that we hadn’t thought to check, or at least Daniel, since he knew parking at the harbour wasn’t allowed. It was a few minutes later when Daniel returned.
“Well?” Lincoln asked.
“The police will check the car park, but they verified that they’d been around to his cottage and there was no sign of a boat, or his truck, for that matter.”
“There must be something we can do. Do you have a radio? Maybe we could tune into their emergency frequency and listen.” I knew I was clutching at straws, but I was becoming desperate for news.
“All we can do is sit tight until someone contacts us,” Lincoln said gently. He moved from the chair and sat beside me, taking my hand in his.
“Miller said I went out on the boat when I was young. I don’t remember, I wonder why?” I said.
“You were terrified. You kept worrying about sharks so we had to turn back, and I think you were a little embarrassed about that. I remember another child, a girl I think, teased you about it,” Lincoln said.
“You were sailing the boat?”
“Of course. Miller used to be an accomplished sailor, Dani. I’m pretty sure that he’s safe. He’s probably sailed into a cove or something until the storm passes over.”
“But how long has it been since that boat has been out? It’s reckless of him to do this, and to cause us so much worry,” Daniel said.
“I’m sure you, or us, weren’t at the forefront of his mind, Daniel. If he’s hurting over Annabelle, I can assure you, other people’s feelings don’t really factor,” I said, a little annoyed at his lack of empathy.
“I’m sure that’s the case, we just have to pray that he’s safe,” Lincoln said, diffusing the growing tension and glaring at Daniel.
Maybe Miller had been right about his brother. I’d witnessed a couple of occasions where I’d thought he’d been less than Christian towards him. Perhaps Daniel didn’t understand what Miller had, or was, going through. As a vicar, I would have thought he should have more empathy. Or was I just being cranky?
Tiredness swept over me, and I tried to conceal the yawn. I curled my feet under me and slumped into the corner of the sofa. I checked the time on my phone, wondering whether I should call Dad before he saw my note. It was only seven in the morning, and yet, I was surprised at how much time had passed. The thought depressed me. It had been two hours without any news.
“How far can that boat sail?” I asked.
“It’s just a wooden sail boat. It’s not designed for the open sea, as such, just for fun around the coastline.”
I knew nothing about boats at all. “So if the sail broke, how would he get home?”
“Miller could probably fix most things. It would have to be a catastrophic failure for the boat not to be able to make it back.”
“It doesn’t have an engine?” I tried to remember that one time I’d been on it.
“No, without a sail, Miller will just drift. But he has his phone, so I can only assume he’s okay, holed up somewhere, and not realising we’d be worrying about him,” Lincoln said.
I didn’t want to ask the next question but it ran through my mind.
All sorts of reasons ran through my head: he could have left his phone at home, he could have it on silent, or what if he’s fallen overboard? His phone wouldn’t work then.
I stood and paced the room, “Shouldn’t we have had an update by now?” I asked.
“I guess they’ll get some news to us when they have some. It’s frustrating, for sure,” Lincoln said.
“Is there something we can do?” Not that I had any idea what that something would be.
“Why don’t we drive along the coast, as close as we can get?” Lincoln asked.
“I’m up for that. I can take one direction, you the other.”
“Don’t you think we should leave it up to the experts?” Daniel interjected.
“The experts are checking the sea, what if he managed to get into a small cove and is stuck there?”
There were loads of small coves, or inlets, along the cliffs. Some of those had small beaches that would interconnect while the tide was out. Many a person had to be airlifted off when the tide came in and cut off their exit route. The cliffs were too sheer and unstable to attempt to climb out. I knew of a couple of coves that had small tunnels, they would flood when the tide came in. I remembered years ago a young lad being caught. They knew he’d gone into the tunnel, but he was never found, it was assumed he was washed out to sea.
I shuddered at the thought. “I’ll tell you what? You stay here and wait for news. I’m going to take a drive along the coast and check out some of the coves I know about.”
I couldn’t sit around any longer and do nothing. I picked up my phone and called Dad.
“Hi, did you get my note?” I asked when he’d answered.
“I did, I was about to call you, what’s happened?”
I ran through what I knew. “I’m going to take a drive along the coast and see if I get into any coves.”
“Come back and get me. Two are better than one and I don’t want you getting into trouble.”
“Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I picked up my still wet clothes and promised to check in as often as I could, then climbed into the car and drove back home.
Mrs. Hampton was walking towards the front door as I pulled onto the drive. Two men, who I hadn’t met before and dressed in bright yellow jackets, climbed down from a Land Rover and greeted her.
“Tell us what happened?” she asked as I left the car.
Again, I recounted what I knew while we walked into the house.
“Okay, this is Peter and Charlie, they know this coastline like no other. In fact, they were part of a team to map out the cliff erosion, so they know all the coves. They’ve brought maps.”