The 1950s, when the scars of war gradually healed. Fashion has become gorgeous as if it speaks for people’s hearts. The new look, announced by Christian Dior in 1947, was all the rage around the world and had an impact on Japan.
Despite the Friday exhaustion that came from very little sleep, the rest of their Lallybroch getaway was nothing short of perfect. An escape from the world Jamie wished could last forever. To show Claire the spaces where he’d passed his childhood, to watch Quinn run through the same fields he once had…the memories would live in his mind forever, he knew.
He only wished the property still kept horses, that he could’ve taken them riding. It would’ve been one of his greatest pleasures.
Well, something for the future, then.
Sunday afternoon arrived far too soon. Dropping them back off at their flat, preparing to part from them after days spent within arm’s reach was gutting.
Claire, too, was teary as they bid farewell. Quinn had run to her room and occupied herself, and Jamie stood in the doorway with Claire, their four hands knotted together. They’d been there for some minutes already, delaying his departure.
Q’s voice, high and fast, reached them through her bedroom door off the living space as she greeted her stuffed tiger and bear and rabbit and dolphin with excitement after a weekend away. The corners of Claire’s mouth twitched to hear it, as did his.
She squeezed his fingers with a sad smile. “You’ll come for dinner Wednesday?”
He returned it and nodded. “Seven on the dot and no’ a minute later. I swear it.”
“Good.”
Still, they didn’t move. Laundry and bath time and a six a.m. shift awaited her. Jamie knew he should give her a final kiss and leave her to prepare for the week ahead, but the sheen in her eye kept him glued to the spot. As he raised his hand to her cheek, her chin quivered and a weight dropped in his stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, smiling through the renegade tears dripping past her lashes. She pulled a hand free of their tangle to wipe them away, chuckling ironically.
Claire flitted out of the kitchen, shaking with laughter. She, Jenny, and the girls were peeling potatoes for supper, and any event involving Brianna and Kitty was sure to be a comedy. They’d been piling peels on Jehu’s stomach, exposed in the odd position he’d decided to sleep in, and were making bets on how many pieces they could stack up before he woke. Before long, Claire was joining in, and even Maggie was shaking with giggles, and Jenny could not hide her smile. The dog had finally just stirred, jerking around on his back before flipping over and shaking peels in a small circle around him.
Given her encouragement of the silly game, Jenny deemed Claire deserving of cleaning up the mess of peels and bringing them out to the pigs. On her way through the halls, she ran into Marsali, scrubbing the stone floor. She and Mary were deep cleaning the house today, with help from the family when they were not otherwise occupied with potatoes or other such tasks. The smaller of the two, Marsali was stuck scrubbing floors while Mary was dusting shelves and mantels.
Claire watched, smiling at the girl, as she finished with that particular spot on the floor and stood up to move over a few steps. Claire paused, noting how slowly Marsali got off the floor, and then her brow furrowed at the way she winced when she picked up the wooden bucket of soapy water.
“Marsali?” Claire’s voice was tinged with concern. “Is your back alright?”
Tori