I’d appreciate that, I didn’t want to leave him at mine on his own, and he doesn’t want to go back to the home. He hasn’t slept; he might if you’re there with him.
It was settled then. I grabbed an oversized handbag and stuffed it with a clean t-shirt and jeans, just in case I ventured out and got muddy or wet. I put in my phone charger and phone, then kissed Dad on the cheek. The first thing I did was to post the letter to Lincoln in the honesty box. Then I drove the Mercedes to Daniel’s, hoping that by the time I arrived, there’d be news. I hated the fact I was out of contact, even if it was just for the ten-minute drive. The car wasn’t advanced enough to have Bluetooth or some way of connecting my phone to a loudspeaker.
I knocked on the front door and waited. Lincoln answered and it took all my resolve not to gasp at the sight of him. His shoulders were so hunched; he’d lost inches in height. His eyes were dull, the whites were tinged with red from either lack of sleep or crying, I thought. His hands shook as he reached out for me. I wrapped my arms around him and he openly cried into my shoulder.
“Let’s get inside,” I said gently.
I ushered him in, closing the door behind me. I held his arm and helped him into the living room. A blanket was strewn over the floor and the curtains were still closed. Lincoln perched on the edge of the sofa, while I opened the curtains and picked up the blanket. I folded it and placed it on the back of the sofa.
“Have you eaten, Lincoln?” I asked. He slowly shook his head.
“I’m going to make you something, and a drink. You need to keep your strength up for when Miller returns.”
“He’s not coming back,” he whispered.
“He is, Lincoln. I know he is.”
Lincoln looked up at me while slowly shaking his head. He patted his chest, near his heart. “I don’t feel him anymore.”
I clenched my jaw together initially; I sat beside him and held his hand in mine.
“Lincoln, we have to believe he’s out there somewhere. Please don’t give up on him, not yet. The boat had been moored up, he got to safety; we just need to find him.”
“I abandoned him when he needed me the most. I should have helped him more. I know both Daniel and I got so frustrated with him over the years, yet we missed that he was grieving himself. He threw himself in a gang because he didn’t have a family. I’m solely to blame for that.”
“No you’re not, Lincoln. Miller was old enough to know right from wrong, and you are talking about a lifestyle he led many years ago. It’s not relevant today. He took that boat out to let go, finally, of Annabelle, so he could move on with his life. That has nothing to do with what happened in the past. If he blamed you for anything, why would he have built that bungalow so you could live close to him? That doesn’t sound like a man who held a grudge, does it?”
Lincoln sighed.
“You lost your wife, maybe you lost your way for a little while, and that’s totally understandable. I’ve been there myself. Okay, I wasn’t married for as long as you were, but I bet you did the best you could. We are all adults, Lincoln, way beyond blaming our childhood for our poor decisions. Miller made stupid decisions; he knows that. But that’s all on him, not you.”
I could see what Lincoln was doing, but Miller’s life prior to prison had no bearing, in my mind, on why he took that boat out. I wanted Lincoln to understand that Miller made the choices he made, and perhaps they stemmed from the loss of his mother and the fact he felt abandoned by his family, but that was then. I didn’t want him to confuse the two.
I guessed it was quite normal, in times of utter despair, to question everything, to tear yourself apart, and I didn’t know the family during those troubled times. I wanted to concentrate on the Miller I knew, the man he’d become despite his past. I hoped I could convince Lincoln to do the same.
“I’ll make you some breakfast, Lincoln, and I wonder if you should try to get some sleep?”
He didn’t answer except to nod his head.
Daniel had a small kitchen, very old-fashioned, but then the church owned the house he lived in, and I guessed modernisation wasn’t in their budget. I opened cupboards and found tea and some mugs. I filled the kettle and let it boil, while I opened the fridge. Someone had stocked it with fresh food; at least I assumed it was someone other than Daniel. I decided to make Lincoln an omelette.
With the mugs in one hand and the plate in the other, I walked back into the living room. Lincoln had rested himself into the corner of the sofa and was sleeping. I placed the plate and his mug on the wooden coffee table and decided to leave him be. I imagined he felt comfortable enough to sleep with me being there. I sat in one of the chairs and placed my phone on the arm.
I hated the quiet. Silence allowed for my mind to wander to places I didn’t want it to go. I tried to think of books that I’d read, of songs that I’d loved, I wanted to fill my mind of anything other than my fears or Lincoln’s words.
I drank my tea, removed the plate and cup from the coffee table, and washed up. I cleaned the kitchen, not that it needed it, but I wanted to occupy myself. When I returned to the living room, Lincoln stirred. His panic and disorientation were evident, and I wondered if, in times of high stress, his early dementia was intensified.
“It’s okay, you fell asleep. There’s no news. Let me get you a fresh cup of tea,” I said.
I made Lincoln tea and another omelette. I was pleased to see that he ate it.
“I can’t bear all this waiting around, Dani,” he said as he sipped on his tea. “He’s been out all night, all day yesterday.”
“I know, but he’s a strong man. If he got to safety, which we believe he did, he’ll make it through one night and day.”
I had only just finished my sentence when my phone rang. Daniel was calling.
“Hi,” I said as I answered it.
“They’ve found him…” The phone crackled making it difficult to hear.
“Daniel! Where? Is he okay?” I looked over to Lincoln who had stood.
“They’ve found him but I can’t hear Daniel very well,” I said to Lincoln.
“Dani? Can you hear me?…hospital…hypothermia.”
I’d heard enough to let the sob I’d been holding in for so long escape. The call cut off.
“All I got was hospital and hypothermia. That means he’s alive, Lincoln,” I said.
Lincoln collapsed to the sofa and covered his face with his hands. He sobbed. I sat beside him and placed my arm around his shoulder. I cried along with him.
“Which hospital is he in?” he asked, eventually.
“Let me text Daniel.”
Daniel replied with the details, letting me know that they should arrive at the hospital in a few minutes. I wondered if he was travelling with Miller.
“Do you want to leave now?” I asked Lincoln.
“Yes. Yes, of course. I need to get to my boy. Oh, God, thank you, thank you,” he said.
It took us a half hour to get to the hospital; I texted Daniel when we arrived and was given instructions on where ICU was. Lincoln held on to my arm as we walked towards the department and the nurses’ station.
“Hi, this is Lincoln Copeland’s father. Can you tell us where he is?” I asked.
“His brother is in the family room, just down the hall. Why don’t you join him? I think a doctor will be coming to see you soon,” I was told.
Lincoln struggled to walk the short distance to the family room. His legs wobbled and I wasn’t sure it was relief or fatigue. I opened the door and helped him in. Daniel jumped up from the chair he sat in and caught Lincoln just as he started to fall.
“Dad, come and sit down,” he said, taking Lincoln from me.
“What happened?” Lincoln asked.