Seacliff

Chapter thirty-eight: A mother's gift

1919

Lady Mortimer was ready to leave after breakfast the next morning and asked James to drive her to the station.

It took her son aback. "The station? But why? Didn't you drive here from Edinburgh?"

"I want you to bring the car back and keep it. It was bought from my money, your father has no claim to it."

James didn't know how to respond. He glanced at Saoirse, who raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Please!" His mother grabbed his arm. "It's yours. I want you to have it. 'Tis very convenient for a young family, out in the country."

"That's very kind of you, Lady Mortimer," Saoirse put in.

"A wedding present!" Lady Mortimer exclaimed. "As well as a Christmas present."

Her staunch gaze pleaded with her son, until he conceded with a sigh.

"All right," James agreed. "We'll keep the car. Let me fetch my hat and gloves and I'll drive you to the station."

Saoirse bit her lip to restrain a smile. Her amusement could have been easily misinterpreted under the circumstances. Yet an idea occurred to her, too good to keep to herself.

"James!" she called out after her husband. "Why don't you drive your mother all the way to Edinburgh? And you could pick up a few things while you're there."

His countenance signalled he was about to argue, except understanding dawned in time and his eyes brightened up.

"Yes, indeed... One thing in particular. We'll have dinner a bit late, however."

"I don't mind." He walked past and she kissed him on the cheek. "As long as you come back to me."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," she replied.

Lady Mortimer looked fit to burst with joy.

Saoirse used the hours of solitude to take the dogs along for a walk as she trotted down to the beach with Sasha. The overcast sky and the stripped branches made for a bleak winter landscape. The sea alone seemed to still be roaring with life, wave after wave crashing into white foam at Sasha's hooves. Lars and Queenie barked and played with wet sticks nearby.

She rode back towards the house, under the ruins of the grand archway, then across the road and into the empty cornfields. Lars rushed ahead and doubled back, as if to show his mother how much fun he was having and to convince her to join in. Queenie stuck to Sasha's contemplative pace.

The sight of the barren earth somehow saddened Saoirse, despite the young pup's boundless enthusiasm. What had once been so luxuriantly green, now became a deep, dirty brown, devoid of animation. It reminded her of the mud on the Western Front, the trenches and the bullets and the bombs, the injured, screaming, and the fire, the blood, the dead, the death –

An explosion.

No, it couldn't have been. Not here, not now. Nevertheless, it launched her heart into a turbulent frenzy that thudded in her ears. Lars and Queenie rushed to the source of the sound, in the direction of the Lodge. Saoirse spurred Sasha along. James had returned with the Hispano-Suiza and Natsume was just getting off the car when the horse came to a halt in the driveway.

"Mon dieu!" Natsume blurted. "Madame Mortimér, you are a driver and a rider! Most impressive."

She dismounted and let him kiss her hand, curtseying. "Mais oui. You're welcome to join me on a ride one of these days, if you'd like."

"I would very much love to, thank you very much." He held his hat to his chest and bowed.

"You go on ahead, gentlemen. I'll take Sasha to the stables and join you in a minute."

That most mundane activity of stabling and feeding a horse allowed Saoirse's heart and mind to resume their tranquillity. She found the men inside, seated beside each other on the settee, waiting for their tea to brew, when she walked in from the kitchen. An odd-looking cat figurine stood on the coffee table next to the tea tray.

"What, pray, is that?"

"Oh, this?" Natsume picked up the figurine and handed it to her. "Christmas present, madame."

It was a small, stubby, cartoon-like cat, with eyes squeezed shut, a tiny smile drawn on, and one paw raised in the air. It moved when she touched it.

"It is a maneki neko," Natsume explained. "A... beckoning cat, I believe is the translation."

She nudged the paw, which swayed up and down. "Oh, because it beckons to you?"

"Indeed."

"How charming!"

"Yes, quite. A charm of good luck for the new family in the new decade."

"Thank you, Natsume," Saoirse said, with heartfelt sincerity. "I shall treasure it dearly."

And true to her word, she went up to the mantelpiece to make room for it front and centre, right next to the photograph of her and James after their wedding ceremony.