Seacliff

Chapter seventy-one: Blood, toil, tears, and sweat

1940

We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans...

Ever since the fighting in France had started in earnest, Saoirse couldn't sleep. For weeks now, there'd been no letters from Aidan, or Jemmy, and they hadn't been rescued in Churchill's Dunkirk 'deliverance'. No news about them being prisoners of war, either, which led to them being classified as MIA.

...we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be...

In her heart of hearts, Maggie knew she'd lost her son. It had wrecked her beyond recognition. If it hadn't been for Sorley, Saoirse would have crumbled under the same weight. But the boy's father had assured her Aidan was alive, only he couldn't tell how well – or where. So, he'd gone looking for his son, and now Saoirse spent her days and nights on the beach, looking out at sea, waiting for a sign.

We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills...

For the second time in her life, Saoirse found herself praying for a miracle to any deity willing to listen. She prayed to get her son back, alive. She prayed to have him home, safe and sound.

...we shall never surrender...

The half-moon seemed almost full, with no clouds across the summer sky to obscure its brightness. The sea swelled and sank at a steady pace, glimmering as moonlight blazed a silver trail across waves of tar. Seamless darkness, deeper now without the pulse of the lighthouse, spread like a magician's cloak along the horizon.

It concealed something unknown, thus ominous. It shielded them from the war raging beyond the calm waters. And the Selkie Stone stood guardian, invisible in the night. Saoirse could only see it because she knew it had to be there. Her mind's eye distinguished its rocky silhouette and her memory filled in the gaps.

As she made to leave, Saoirse caught some movement from the corner of her eye. An odd distortion in the stream of silver beaming from the moon. She frowned. Something arose from the water. A human head, approaching.

She ducked behind the nearest tree. Her brain told her it could only be Sorley, but her war-time heart pounded with fear. Seacliff sat on the south coast of the Firth of Forth, at the mouth of the North Sea. Hitler's armies had occupied Norway by now, so they had open passage...

Her ruminations slowed to a trickle when the rest of the human came into view, carrying a slack body like the Virgin Mary cradled a crucified Jesus in Michelangelo's imagination. Except this wasn't a marble formation. No, these were flesh-and-blood figures, warm and mobile – or at least, she hoped they still were.

"Aidan!" Saoirse cried out and rushed into the sea. "Aidan, my boy!"

Sorley was advancing as fast as the waves allowed him. He walked past Saoirse once their paths intersected.

"His skin," he demanded, "where is it?"

"The... the shed," she sputtered. "Is he... is he..."

"He's alive," Sorley said, striding ashore, "albeit barely."

Her heart felt as cold as the sea numbing her feet. Her drenched skirts made it difficult to walk, as if the hem of her nurse's uniform had been lined with lead. She stumbled after Sorley, forcing herself to keep up despite the sting along every nerve in her muscles.

To his credit, Sorley didn't stop to wait for her. He barrelled ahead, the distance between him and Saoirse growing by the second. She made a superhuman effort to run for the last stretch of the path and managed to catch up in time to open the shed door for him and drag off the tarpaulin that hid the gaping sealskin from view.

Sorley lowered his son into it, careful with the head like with a baby's. He stood up holding a belt attached to what may once have been a boot. The sealskin hissed and cracked as it sewed itself shut after so many months of disuse. Saoirse watched her son's sleeping face until it disappeared into the seal.

A tsunami of sobs rattled her core and obliterated her sense of balance. Sorley caught her in his arms. One of his hands reached out to touch Aidan's heart and he sighed with relief. Saoirse let her own hand be guided to the seal's body. A faint heartbeat thudded within and a renewed wave of tears overpowered her.

Her baby was alive. Her baby was home.

*

Saoirse's eyes fluttered open, tickled by sunlight. Her rigid bones ached from the previous night's strain. A kilt fell off her shoulders as she sat up on the settee, stretching. She didn't remember changing out of her uniform into a shift, nor did she recall falling asleep. Sorley had tried to convince her to go to bed, but she'd insisted to sit up in the front room, so she could run out into the shed at a moment's notice.

She glanced at the clock tucked in the corner of the front room, focused on the rhythmic swing of the long pendulum in its case. The dial above it showed the minute hand closing in on ten o'clock. Aoife must have woken up by now, she would need her breakfast. Groaning, Saoirse pushed herself to her feet and wobbled towards the staircase. Faint noises floated in from the kitchen.

"Tea, Your Highness? But of course."

Sorley's voice. His frequent clandestine visits over the past ten years had taught him more about human habits and habitats. He'd even learned to play Princess with his daughter. It amused and heartened Saoirse beyond belief. She stole a glimpse of Aoife seated at the kitchen table, picking at whatever breakfast Sorley had put together for her. He poured tea in her decorated china cup and bent to kiss the top of her head.

He smiled at Saoirse as he straightened up, brief and inconspicuous. She returned the sentiment, biting her lip, and tiptoed upstairs, to wash and change. The royal tea party had relocated to the front room when she came down. Sorley was sitting on the floor, while Aoife tinkered with her tiny – empty – tea set. The selkie looked up and Aoife followed her father's gaze.

"Good morning, Mama. You're just in time for tea!"