Seacliff

Chapter thirty-six: Surprise guest

1919

By Christmas, James had finished transferring all of his belongings to Seacliff Lodge, Saoirse had made room for him in Aoife's study, and they'd begun work on the 'graveyard chamber' – an old, locked bedroom where all sorts of memorabilia from deceased family members had been relegated. This would become the baby's nursery.

James kept most of his things in Saoirse's room, now their 'marital chamber', and slept in the guest bedroom. Anna, his former housemaid, continued her service at the Lodge, aiding with the cleaning and the cooking. A luxury Saoirse found difficult to adjust to, but she admitted she would inevitably need a helping hand as the pregnancy progressed. Besides, the poor girl could use the wage.

The 'villainous peasants', who had long accused the village doctor and the spinster nurse of having an affair, weren't too surprised when it became known that they'd married. Baby gossip was already underway. The O'Donnells and other veterans' families had been kind enough to send gifts.

Saoirse had feared that she would not be able to accommodate another person in her life after being on her own for so long, but routine as a married couple was quick to set in and they soon grew comfortable together. Anna was a lovely girl, too, sharp and hardworking, whose company Saoirse came to enjoy.

"Are ye sure ye won't be needing me, mistress?" the girl asked, when Saoirse relieved her of her duties for the week on Christmas Eve morning.

"Quite sure, Anna. We'll manage. You ought to spend the holidays with your family."

"Oh, Christmas is hardly a holiday in these parts," Anna argued, then smiled. "Though I suppose it will be nice to have the house to myself for the day. And my man will be glad to have a festive supper waiting for him after work."

"No doubt about that!" Saoirse chuckled. "Really, the Christmas holidays are the only time I miss dear old Ireland! Even London, for that matter."

"Well, see, this is why we have Hogmanay!"

"Quite right! Merry Christmas, Anna."

"Merry Christmas, mistress."

They hugged and Saoirse saw the girl off with a basket full of treats. Natsume was due to arrive later that afternoon, the only guest they were expecting. Although he didn't celebrate Christmas, he'd jumped at the idea of spending some time in the country by the sea when Saoirse had extended the invitation.

"What does he like to eat?" she checked with James that morning as she made plans for Christmas dinner, a batch of scones baking in the oven. Despite the winter weather, the full force of the cooking stove made the kitchen hot and stuffy.

"Raw fish," James answered – unironically, from the sound of it.

"Really? What kind of raw fish?"

"And rice. But he has a very particular way of cooking it."

Hands on her hips, Saoirse shook her head. "Well, I... We have some smoked salmon, will that do?"

"Oh, most certainly. He's far from a picky eater, you mustn't worry on his account."

"I want him to feel welcome. At home."

James smiled. "I'm sure he will."

Dogs barking at an approaching motorcar cut their conversation short.

"Who could it be?" Saoirse wondered aloud, wiping at her brow. The kitchen window had a view into the yard, not the driveway out front. "You're the only person I know who'd visit me in a motorcar and we live together now."

"And I no longer have a motorcar."

They walked side by side into the front room. James got the door. Saoirse glimpsed over his shoulder from a distance. The vehicle outside resembled that damned Hispano-Suiza of his.

"Mother," James called out, confirming Saoirse's suspicions. "What are you... what are you doing here?"

He went to help Lady Mortimer with the basket she was hoisting from the car. Saoirse advanced to the doorstep, waving. Lady Mortimer managed an awkward greeting. Mother and son had telephoned every now and then, but they hadn't seen each other since Sir Alexander's outburst in Edinburgh.

"We weren't expecting you," James said. He took the basket from his mother and offered her his arm. "You should have called ahead."

Lady Mortimer blushed under her hat. "I would have, but I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't have me."

"Nonsense," Saoirse hurried to reply as James showed his mother in. "Welcome to Seacliff Lodge, Lady Mortimer."

She helped the older woman out of her fur coat, inviting her into the front room. James passed with the basket into the kitchen.

"Please." Saoirse pointed her guest to the settee.

Lady Mortimer cut a slim figure in her stiff, old-fashioned gown. She gingerly perched herself on the edge of the sofa, hands folded in her lap. Her frilly cuffs and collar belonged to a grander era, which made Saoirse feel inadequate in the loose, two-piece suit she wore under her cardigan.

"Shall I..." Saoirse clasped her hands. "What can I get you, Lady Mortimer? I'm sure James has already put the tea on and I've baked some scones..."

"Fresh scones, how marvellous! Lucky me."

"All right, then. It will only take a moment. Excuse me."

Saoirse dashed into the kitchen, where, as predicted, James was tending to the kettle.

"Why do you think she's come?" she enquired, fetching a plate for the scones and a tray for the tea.

"Well, it is Christmas Eve. I've always spent Christmas with my family."

"Do you think she'll stay?"

James sighed. "I don't know. Would you mind?"

"No, but I need to get the guest chamber ready. And we need to let Natsume know."

James cursed under his breath. Saoirse filled the teapot and arranged it on the tray, with cups on saucers and a little milk jug.

"Why don't you take your mother on a walk to the beach later on? Show her the sights, and I'll sort things out. Give me an hour or two."

"You're brilliant," James declared, kissing her forehead. "But then again, I would not have married you otherwise."