Seacliff

Chapter ninety-one: Brave new world

1950

Since he hardly had anything better to do, Aidan employed his espionage skills to follow his mum to the train station when she went to pick up Airman Caleb Robinson. He stood some yards away from Aoife and Saoirse on the platform, perusing a newspaper.

"Caleb!"

Aidan glanced up to see who his mother was shouting after.

"Over here!" Saoirse waved at a tall young man carrying a small suitcase.

He took off his hat and approached the two women. "Mrs Mortimer – Saoirse!"

"Oh, Caleb! It's so good to see you!"

Saoirse went in for a tight hug, which Caleb fully reciprocated. Some reluctance arose between the airman and Aoife, though, as he turned to face her. A tense embarrassment now, after they'd – apparently – used to be very close during Caleb's time in Scotland. He kissed her hand with an eerie reverence, as if in awe of her mere presence.

"Miss Aoife, you've... grown."

Aidan bit his lip and pushed his hat lower on his forehead. The signs were unmistakable. His sister fancied the airman, and the feeling was clearly mutual. She'd been a girl still when they'd first met during the war. She was a young woman now and he, no longer a soldier. No clocks were ticking over their heads anymore.

Aoife muttered something Aidan couldn't hear, then the trio started towards the exit. Aidan rushed ahead, to hail a cab and get to the house before them. His mum would never bring a guest into the kitchen, so he ducked into a corner close to the pantry, just in case he'd have to jump in and hide.

There was no need. Saoirse walked by herself into the kitchen, startled by the sight of him.

"Aidan!" she exclaimed, bringing a hand to her heart. She shook her head with a smile and carried on as if she hadn't seen him. "What are you doing, lurking in the shadows like that?"

He grinned. "Watching young love blossom."

His mother gave him a conspiratorial wink. "He's a lovely chap, Caleb. Kind and clever. And they both share an interest in medicine, so I'm sure you can imagine the interminable chats and arguments."

"Must have been great fun."

"It was... it was. I'm glad your father got to meet him. Home was dreary without you, during the war. Caleb brought us some joy."

He squeezed his mother's shoulder as she busied herself over the stove.

"It's a shame the RAF didn't fulfil their commitment," Saoirse continued. "They'd promised him he could become a surgeon after the war." She filled a kettle, then put it on the stove, and arranged the tea tray. "But I will see to it that he and Aoife get into medical school, if it's the last thing I do."

Aidan's heart tightened at the finality of those words. "Don't say that," he whispered.

His mum understood, reading his mind. It was obvious in the way she cupped his cheek and gazed ever-so-lovingly into his eyes.

"Aidan, mo mhuirnín... your ma won't live forever. I'm only human, after all."

He kissed her palm and held onto her wrist. "I know, I just... I don't think I could bear losing you any time soon."

"Well, my work is almost done." The kettle whistled and Saoirse poured the boiling water into the teapot. "Edington Home is now with the National Health Service, and so is my ambulance convoy. There's no need for an old nurse like me in this brave new world."

A nostalgic smile curled the corner of her lips. Aidan wrapped an arm around his mum and held her to his chest.

"This... brave new world needs you more than ever, Ma. It needs to remember and, in its rush to move on, to blaze new trails... it can't forget what it took to get here. It simply can't."

"Oh, my darling boy... unfortunately, we both know that it will."

*

The weeks passed by in a blur at home, until a month became two became three... and Aidan's homesickness switched gears. He missed Pauline and her homemade pizza. He missed the Harvard halls and the Boston docks. He missed the thrill of his missions, the inventiveness of his fellow colony members, the freedom to roam around without fearing recognition...

"Mou itta?"

Aidan started as Uncle Natsume broke his reverie, walking beside him on the wet sand. Their promenades on the beach during the morning low tide had become a blissful habit. Both of them were outcast loners, despite the love Saoirse showered them with.

Natsume had been ostracized as an 'enemy' during the second half of the war and thus taken up residence at the Lodge, away from the city's inquisitive glares. Now, without James around, he felt like he didn't belong in his widow's home.

Aidan could hardly leave the Lodge grounds and when he did, he had to be extremely careful. Only in disguise after dark could he visit his father's grave or Jemmy's memorial. Which, for that matter, always meant visiting his own memorial, too, and that didn't sit quite right with him.

"Did I go?" he repeated Natsume's question. "Where did I go?"

His uncle's trademark quizzical smile grew all the more mystical on account of the lines age had etched into his face. "You tell me. You weren't here, just now."

Aidan looked out at the sea. His bare feet sank into the sand when he came to a halt at the water's edge. The cold ripples tickled his toes.

"No, I wasn't..." The sea lapped at his feet, amplifying his longing. "I think I need to go."