Seacliff

Chapter eighty-nine: Thirty years later

1949

Sorley and Aidan made the trip across the Atlantic at the same time as the ship that took Saoirse and Aoife back to England. Without the war, they had free passage through the English Channel and up north to Scotland along the eastern coast. They waited in the caves under the Selkie Stone until Aoife summoned them ashore.

"Did you have a good voyage?" Aidan asked his sister after he and his da had traded their sealskins for clothes.

Aoife led the way from the beach to the Lodge. "Yes, you?"

"Eh, it was all right. Poor service, though, the food was all raw."

They laughed and wrapped their arms around each other.

Seacliff Lodge came up ahead of them as the woodland thinned. At first glance, the Victorian cottage didn't look like it'd changed much over the past thirty years. But on the inside, human progress had modernised it.

The icebox had been replaced by an electric refrigerator. Gone was the massive iron cooking stove, which always made the kitchen stuffy in the summer. In its stead now sat a gas-powered steel range. The bathroom, too, had been fitted out with new tiles and pipes.

The front room had not suffered such drastic transformations. It maintained the same arrangement, although the settee, armchairs, and coffee table looked new. The grandfather clock still stood in a corner, the king's portrait hung above the fireplace, and the same old mahogany cabinets lined the walls.

The mantelpiece now held Aidan's Victoria Cross medal, in addition to the maneki neko and an array of black-and-white photographs – James and Saoirse on their wedding day, Aidan in his khaki, Aoife in her nurse's uniform, a pre-war family portrait, and a picture taken at the pub with the McLellans before the boys had moved to Edinburgh.

"Honouring our fallen war hero," Aoife said when she caught Aidan staring at his 'posthumous' medal.

He hated seeing it, because it reminded him of leaving Jemmy behind.

"Aidan, my boy!" Their mother came down the stairs, beaming. "I must admit it's strange to see you again so soon."

He chuckled as they embraced.

"But I'm happy, nonetheless." She cupped her son's face, brushing the hair from his forehead. "Are you ready to see your dad?"

He gulped, nodding. Saoirse took his hand.

*

Aidan balled his fists by his sides as his mum knocked on the door of the old guest room before opening it. A knot of tension, tears and terror clogged his throat.

"James?" Saoirse called out softly. "Our son is here."

Aidan walked into the dim room, forcing a smile on. His father lay in bed, pale and gaunt, with Natsume sitting in an armchair beside him.

"Aidan?" James croaked and struggled to sit up. Saoirse and Natsume rushed to aid him.

"Yes, Papa," he murmured, "yes, it's me..."

"Aidan..."

The boy fell on his knees by his father's bedside, taking James's frail hand and kissing it.

James chuckled. "What is it now? Professor... what?"

Aidan snickered and sniffled. He couldn't bring himself to correct his poor dad.

"Professor Montgomery," he answered.

"Of?"

"Of archaeology." The lie came easy enough. "As far as the university is concerned, I'm on yet another Mayan expedition." Too easy.

James tried to laugh, but it quickly devolved into a painful cough. "Clever boy. But then... you always were." The doctor-turned-patient sighed and leaned back against the headboard. "Say... you're something of a selkie spy now, from what I gather?"

"Yes, indeed, something of the sort."

"You must have a wealth of stories to tell. Humour your deathly ill father, will you?"

Aidan hoped his grimace remained internal. He stood up and began to regale his audience with his most adventurous tale to date – his mission to retrieve and destroy records of Nazi experiments performed on selkie inmates in concentration camps.

"That Mengele man is such a vile monster, isn't he?" James noted by the end of Aidan's spirited performance, cradling a steaming cup of tea.

"He is." Aidan sat on the edge of the bed.

James heaved a weary sigh, and Natsume rose to take the cup from his hands. "I think your father has had enough excitement for one day, bocchan." Uncle Natsume passed the teacup to Saoirse and helped his lover lie back down. "We ought to let him rest."

The doctor smiled through hooded eyes. His hand brushed against Natsume's on his cheek.

"Thank you, Aidan." James reached for his son. His fingers trembled as he struggled to grasp Aidan's hand. "You've grown so big, my boy. I'm so proud of you. Never forget that Papa loves you."

Aidan squeezed the doctor's hand and kissed it. It was all he could do not to break down on the carpet.