I took a slow walk home and through the back door into the kitchen. No one was around but sitting on the table was some mail. On top of the pile was a purple envelope. I took the mail, a large mug of tea, and headed upstairs, opening the purple envelope as I did.
My dearest Dani,
I really don’t know what to say to you. I cannot imagine the pain you must be feeling right now. I totally understand everything you are telling me: how you feel, and the confusion you have. It’s a living nightmare, I imagine. I’m usually thrilled to receive a letter from you, the last few have shown an upbeat in your thinking but this…I’m blown away a little and my heart is breaking for you right now.
So you’re lost? I don’t doubt that for one minute, but you can come back from this. How? By finding that inner strength that I know you have. It will be hard, but you can do it. You ask what child was a mistake. I don’t believe Hannah was. Not that I have any experience in this, but I can’t imagine a planned pregnancy with a mistress was in your husband’s mind. Are you sure she didn’t entrap him? Not that I guess it makes much difference.
It’s so hard to know what to write to comfort you. There’s a part of me that wants to ask you to find some comfort in the marriage that you remember, in the Trey that you, and only you, spent time with. You say you didn’t know, doesn’t that suggest that perhaps there weren’t problems in your relationship? I know that might sound strange. What man has a perfect marriage and an affair? A confused one, a selfish one, a man who maybe found himself in a situation he couldn’t get out of. Or am I making excuses for him? If he were alive, Dani, I’d punch him on the nose, for sure.
I think the only way to move forwards is to find some level of acceptance. Perhaps, in time, forgiveness, but that’s a big ask. I’m confident, Dani, that you will get over this, you’ll find your way again.
You have a future, a house to build, and a life to live. You can live that life to the fullest, or you can be swallowed up in your grief and anger. I don’t recommend the latter. You were given a second chance, Dani; you have to make use of that. I know that is way easier said than done, but he’s gone, sadly.
Would it have been any easier if he were still alive? Maybe, but maybe not. Sometimes, not getting answers is actually the better way. What would have happened if you’d heard the words that you most fear? This way, you can hang on to the belief that he did love you, despite what he did, and that he planned for Hannah. Hang on to that, Dani.
Your friend,
Lincoln.
It was the first time Lincoln had addressed and signed off the letter in the way he had. I believed that was because he was so sincere in what he’d written, and he viewed me as his friend. He was fond of me, enough to change his method of addressing me.
I read the last paragraph over and over. Could I hang on to something I wasn’t sure was true? Could I make myself believe that? Until the moment Christian had told me, it was exactly what I believed, anger washed over me. Trey was dead, Hannah was dead, and did I really need to know what I’d been told at all? Christian could have withheld some information, for my sake. He could have left me mourning the loss of my husband, a perfect marriage, and my child. Lincoln had said, ‘sometimes, not getting the answers is actually the better way,’ maybe not knowing at all would have topped that.
I put Lincoln’s letter to one side. Underneath was a large white envelope with the estate agent’s logo across the top. I held it in my hands, deciding whether I needed to deal with it at that moment. In addition, there was a small, plush, and obviously expensive one. The envelope had that slight velvety feel that suggested quality. There were no sender’s details. I turned it over and slid my thumb under the flap; it opened easily.
I slid out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it. I wasn’t sure what I was reading at first, or rather, I couldn’t absorb the content. I read it again, and one more time.
Helen had instructed a solicitor. It seemed that her child, Trey’s child, could be entitled to part of his estate. Trey hadn’t left a will, and I’d naturally assumed, as his next of kin, what was his, became mine. I shook my head. How could she? I strode from the room and banged on Christian’s bedroom door before flinging it open. His room was empty. I stomped down the stairs to find the house as empty as it was when I’d returned home. I knew where Dad was, but not Christian.
I paced the kitchen, desperate to screw the page in my hand into a small ball, to throw it on the fire or at least the gas hob. I couldn’t destroy it I knew that, but I needed to show it to someone, a solicitor that could act on my behalf. I had no intention of calling the parasites as instructed. It had been just a few days, and the bitch was already after what she could get. She hadn’t even given me a chance to get used to the idea she was not only fucking my husband, but he’d fathered her child. No, she had to go in for the kill while the wound was gaping. I wanted to scream as many obscenities at her as I could, but I knew, I’d never give her the pleasure of my anger. I’d never speak to, nor see her, again, I’d hoped.
“Hey, I thought I saw you,” I heard.
I spun round to see Miller at the back door.
“What’s happened, Dani?” he asked, I imagined he’d seen the anger, or the horror, or whatever expression, on my face.
I thrust the page into his chest, not daring myself to speak. He read.
“What a bitch,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you have a lawyer, other than Christian, of course?”
“No, but I’m about to find one. Know a good one? Someone so fucking ruthless, nasty, you know the kind you see on the television?”
“As it happens, I know a great company. Took me to the cleaners, I think they’d be perfect for you.”
I frowned. “When my wife left, she got absolutely everything from the house to the car, and even the dog. I miss that dog. She had one shit-hot lawyer.”
“I don’t want that lawyer, just one like him.”
“It was a her, a total ball-breaker, she was. I even asked her one day if she was a man underneath the tight skirt and the gaping shirt. She had more masculinity and less empathy than any bare-knuckle fighter I’ve met.”
“You’ve met bare-knuckle fighters?” I asked, more interested in that part of his statement.
“Many, but let’s get back to the lawyer. Seriously, Dani, this woman is ideal. She doesn’t give a shit about feelings, or children in your case, dogs in mine. The only thing she wants is to win every case she takes on. Now, I don’t know if she would be able to defend you in this, or whatever it is that has to be done, but it might be worth asking her.”
“Okay, how do I meet the ball-breaker?”
“I’ll find her details. I know I still have some paperwork lying around.”
I pulled a chair away from the table, wincing as the legs scraped against the tiles and then sat.
“How about I make a coffee? Mind you, you only drink tea, don’t you?” Miller said.
“Coffee or tea, I don’t mind.”
I scanned over the letter again while he made coffee.
“What happened to your dog?” I asked.
“Sam was his name, I’d had him as a puppy and before her. She took him to spite me; she hated dogs. She moved into a town, didn’t look after him, and he got run over. She didn’t even tell me until I receive a vet’s bill for his euthanasia.”
“What?”
“Yeah, bitch of the year award was split between the lawyer and her then.”
“Did you pay it?”
“No, of course not.”
“What happened?”
“The vet tried to take me court for non-payment until I showed them the divorce settlement that clearly stated she had received custody of the bloody dog.”
“That’s shocking.”
“Not as shocking as that,” he said, placing a mug in front of me and taking the page out of my hand to read again.
“Can she do this? I mean, Alistair is Trey’s child but an illegitimate one.”
“I don’t know, is the answer.”
I sipped on my coffee in silence.
“I came here to let you know I’ve had some unofficial feedback from my man at the council. He doesn’t think there would be any objection to the plans, other than to show a clear provision of parking for this house.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’ve left it that there is communal parking but if you sell this house, say your dad moves on or…We have to show there is enough space for two cars for this house without obstructing the two car parking space you need for the barn.”
“I don’t have a car, why do I need two car parking spaces?”
“Because the council insists on it. Although, it’s technically one point five cars for a two-bedroom house.”
“Okay, so you’ll do what?”
“I think a slight readjustment in landscaping is all that’s needed. To be honest, Dani, it’s my fault. I know about the car parking, I should have allocated for that.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter because we can alter it easily enough, I take it?”
“Yes. It’s already done. But, the good news is, I think this planning application will sail through.”
“Talk about sailing, did you go out in your boat?” I wanted to talk about anything other than the letter he was still holding.
“It’s not technically my boat but my dad’s. And no. It’s still afloat though, so that’s a good sign. There’s something I feel like I need to do, and I need the boat to do it,” he said, cryptically.
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 lik
e 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?”
“I don’t want him to have my child, whether that be in the ground or whatever ‘better place’ they are in,” I whispered.
Letters to Lincoln Page 16
