Chapter Text
Jimmy Perez felt light as he looked down on the jetty in front of him. Willow’s hand in his, his father James behind him, his mother waiting for them to get off. It was a warm summer’s day, the blue sky dotted with fluffs of cloud, and unusually still.
His stomach was queasy as he stepped off the jetty, slowing down to let Willow follow behind him without letting go of her hand. She’d probably resent that he was helping her off like a little old lady, but that wasn’t the reason for his clutching her hand.
It was the ridiculous notion that if he let go of her now all of this would turn out to be a dream. That he hadn’t just dumped his guilt and indecision of the last few years overboard between the Mainland and Fair Isle, that he hadn’t just told Willow that he and Cassie would follow her to her new position in Orkney, to be a part of her and their unborn baby’s life.
He clutched her hand and she glanced over to him, her wild fair hair blowing across her face, her eyes glinting in the afternoon sun, and smiled.
“Are you ready for this?” he quietly asked, only a few metres away from Mary, his mother, who was staring at Jimmy and the strange woman beside him.
“Of course, Jimmy,” she said with a brief smile, squeezing his hand.
This time around, Jimmy didn’t feel any anxiety about the woman of his dreams meeting his parents. When he’d brought Fran here, he’d fretted how she’d cope with the confines of the small croft house, the intense scrutiny of her parents, their sometimes limited world view. She had been everything they weren’t: well-spoken in a worldly sort of way, confident, liberal.
But Willow had grown up in a remote community on an island just like Jimmy. Even if her English parents had been academics who’d set up a hippie commune in the Hebrides, nothing like Jimmy’s family who’d been crofters and skippers of the Good Shepherd for generations. Willow’s upbringing would have been similar to his due to the remoteness of the location and the life ruled by seasons and the weather.
Jimmy dropped the bags on the ground when they reached Mary. Without letting go of Willow’s hand, he introduced her.
“Mum, this is Willow. Willow Reeves.”
Mary Perez’ face lit up as if Christmas had come early.
“Welcome to Fair Isle,” she said. “Lovely to meet you, Willow.”
To his surprise, his mum leaned forward to peck Willow on the cheek.
“It’s great to finally see where Jimmy’s from,” Willow said as she smiled at both Mary and Big James who had joined them from the Good Shepherd, the mail boat. His mother was startled by how tall she was, Jimmy could tell, because she had to lift her eyes and tilt her head to look up into Willow’s eyes.
“I hope your trip wasn’t too rough,” Mary said, referring to the time when Jimmy had brought Fran to Fair Isle. When she had got off the plane, she had been white as a ghost, terrified by the bumpy ride and the landing approach to the airstrip. The experience made her draw up a will, half-jokingly, in one of her sketch pads while staying in Fair Isle, bequeathing her daughter Cassie to Jimmy Perez in the event of her untimely death.
Willow smiled again, pulling Jimmy out of his thoughts. “It was very pleasant, thank you.” She wasn’t talking about the swell or the wind, he was sure of it, but about the way they had connected with each other on the way over.
There was a brief moment of silence, only interrupted by the screeching of gulls and the lapping of the sea against the jetty. Mary leaned forward to greet her son with a kiss on the cheek.
“Jimmy,” she said, fixing him with bright eyes. “It’s lovely to see you.” She already had a dozen questions about Willow, he knew, and she was bursting to find the right moment to ask them.
He smiled at her before turning to Willow and his father. Mary kept her eyes on Willow, studying her baggy sweater, her frayed jeans and the wild hair. James had already had time to get used to Willow’s unconventional appearance since he’d been on the ride over from Grutness, and the fact that she looked nothing like a chief inspector of the Highlands and Islands Police.
A sudden breeze picked up and blew Willow’s hair into her face. She pushed it away, then turned to look back at the Good Shepherd. Jimmy thought she was going to comment on the boat, but instead she briefly glanced at him and smiled.
“Let’s get you home,” Mary said, ushering Willow away towards the white van parked nearby, and Jimmy reluctantly let go of her hand, and picked up their bags.
***
Willow Reeves looked around the small tidy lounge, the kitchen with the Rayburn, the water colour paintings which bore Mary Perez’ signature.
“I love your paintings,” Willow said as she inched up closer to one in particular - a typical Shetland scene, she thought, of barren hills, craggy rocks and flocks of sheep.
“Thank you,” Mary said, pleased that Willow had noticed them. The lounge had a homely, if somewhat cramped feeling. A two-seater sofa and a single seat were facing each other, a solid wood coffee table in between. A wooden display cabinet with crystal glasses stood against a wall, two wide drawers with metal knobs underneath giving it a rather clunky appearance. Across the other side of the room there was another painting on the wall. This one was done in oil. A wild stormy sea, angry clouds, the spray of the surf and a pebbled beach, all skillfully painted in many detailed layers.
Mary followed Willow’s look across the small lounge, her eyes settling on the beautiful painting that didn’t quite fit into this quaint country-look lounge.
“That’s one of Fran’s,” Mary said quickly, averting her eyes. “Jimmy gave it to us after Fran died.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Willow said, keen to ease Mary’s discomfort. It wasn’t his mother’s fault that he had held onto Fran’s memory for so long. Willow didn’t want it to become an issue between them.
“How long have you known Jimmy?” Mary asked as she pulled the kettle over the hotplate on the Rayburn.
And I thought that at least I’d be sitting down with a cup of tea in my hand before the inquisition began. But Jimmy and Big James would come in soon from their quick tour around the croft and the new sheep yards that James wanted to show off. Mary must have decided to get in quickly before their return.
“Three years,” Willow said. She could see Mary’s thoughts ticking over, counting back years, Jimmy’s life divided into before and after Fran’s death. “We’ve worked together on a number of murder investigations.”
Mary fetched cups with delicate painted flowers from the cupboard, a matching teapot and jug for the milk. Pouring milk from a glass bottle into the jug, she glanced at Willow, opened her mouth, then changed her mind about what she was going to say.
“Have a seat, Willow,” she gestured, suddenly aware that Willow had been standing all this time. She sat down in a seat beside a glass cabinet, grateful for the baggy sweater she was wearing. Her pregnancy was starting to show, but she'd prefer if Jimmy told them instead of his mother figuring it out herself.
Mary poured boiling water into the teapot and covered it with a hand-knitted tea-cosy. She arranged home-baked biscuits on a plate and put it down on the coffee table in the small lounge.
“Were you part of the team investigating Fran’s...,” she started, then stopped, looking down on her hands before lifting her eyes up to Fran's painting, “her murder?”
Mary reached for the teapot and nearly knocked over the jug of milk.
The woman looked so tense Willow felt sorry for her. The tragedy of Fran’s murder and her son’s grief had impacted on his mother beyond anything Willow had imagined. She felt a little guilty for every impatient thought she’d had over the years when his grief had made him almost unbearable to be around, at times. Mary steadied her hand, then poured the tea.
“No, I came on board when Jimmy was on stress leave,” she said, making her voice sound easy and light. “He was coming back into work a couple of days a week. It was my first investigation in Shetland and I was very grateful for his expertise and local knowledge.” She didn’t add that his broodiness, sudden mood changes and the tendency to go off on his own tangent during the investigation into Jerry Markham's death had driven her to distraction sometimes.
Mary’s face relaxed a little, relieved that Willow was comfortable talking about this subject.
“But you know what happened?” Mary asked.
The heat in the small room was getting stifling. Willow pushed the sleeves of her sweater back to expose her arms.
“Everybody in the Highlands and Islands police knew what had happened.”
For a moment Willow had the urge to discuss Jimmy’s almost compulsive need for privacy. She wanted to know if he’d ever opened up to his mother about his feelings of guilt, his grief. But Jimmy would be furious if she pried into his private life behind his back. She helped herself to a biscuit, took a bite, then sipped her tea.
“I’m glad he met you,” Mary said. “He’s been brooding over Fran’s death for too long. James and I have been worried about him.”
Willow put her hand on her stomach, feeling the growing bump under her sweater, smiling.
“I’m glad I met him, too.”
She looked around the cramped space and hoped that Jimmy would come back inside soon, or she’d run out of topics to talk about with Mary.
“And where is home for you, Willow?” Mary asked.
“I grew up in the Hebrides, but now I live in Inverness.”
“And so you’ve come up just for the weekend?”
Willow smiled. “Just for the weekend to meet you and James and see where Jimmy grew up.” She thought about the look Jimmy got in his eyes every time he mentioned Fair Isle, the excitement in his voice when he talked about his home. “I’ve heard a lot about Fair Isle, but this is my first visit here.”
Mary sat up just a little taller, beaming at her across the small table.
“He grew up here, right in this house. He helped a lot around the croft when he lived here.” Mary paused, reveling in memories of days gone past when she had her son around her all the time. Willow wondered if Jimmy had ever rebelled against his parents. She didn’t think he had, unlike her. “We’re all very proud of him, of course,” Mary continued. “Who would have thought our Jimmy-lad, a detective!”
She pushed off her chair and walked over to the cabinet, pulled a photo out of the top drawer and returned to the coffee table.
“That’s him, helping his dad clip the sheep.”
Willow held the photo up to her eyes. There was Jimmy in his pre-teens, tall for his age, he seemed, and skinny legs with knobbly knees poking out of brown shorts. His hair was dark and untidy even then, and he looked very serious.
She wondered what he’d been like as a boy. Had he been quiet, pensive even then? Had anybody recognised his sharp mind, his intense curiosity with people and their lives, or had he just blended in, unnoticed? It would have been near impossible to blend in with his mediterranean looks in a place like this.
Willow let her mind wander, picturing the baby growing inside of her. Would he or she be dark and olive-skinned like Jimmy or blond and fair with freckles like her?
A noise came from the entry, a door shut, the sound of heavy boots on the wooden floor, then Jimmy’s face.
“There you are!” he said as he entered the kitchen in his socks, a look of relief on his face, James right behind him. Jimmy looked down on his mother, then rested his eyes on Willow, rewarding her with one of his rare smiles that made her stomach flip.
I’ve hardly seen him smile in the last few weeks, Willow thought. She’d come up from Inverness to lead the investigation of the murders of two women in Deltaness. Her hopes of Jimmy’s rejoicing in the news of her pregnancy were quickly quashed by his crass reaction. They’d been unable to communicate without shooting barbs of aggression at each other. Every encounter between them had been tense, lacking the usual camaraderie and banter of previous investigations.
Now that they had finally had a talk on the journey over, Willow would make it her mission to see more of Jimmy’s smile.
The men joined Mary and Willow around the coffee table, sipping tea and eating biscuits, discussing the price of sheep and wool, commenting on the unusual stretch of good weather in the past week. Willow wondered how much longer they would be expected to sit here and make conversation before they could politely retreat to their room.
Jimmy hadn’t managed to get accommodation on the Isle due to a large hemfaring party taking place. All B&Bs and private rooms were booked out. So they would stay with his parents and Willow would sleep in Jimmy’s old room. It was refurbished, he’d said, with a queen-sized bed, and it looked nothing like the room he’d had a boy. She hoped he would be sleeping in the same bed as her, but there would be plenty of time to work this out.
“So, Jimmy tells me that you’re his boss?” James said with a mischievous grin in his eyes as he reached for another biscuit.
Mary looked at Jimmy in surprise, then at Willow. “You didn’t tell me that!” she said accusingly at first, then relaxed into a smile. “Oh, Jimmy. Why am I not surprised?”
Whatever private joke she was making Willow didn’t understand and Jimmy didn’t explain, but looked rather embarrassed about his mother’s comment.
“Yes, I am his boss, for now,” she said, glancing over to Jimmy. They hadn’t discussed how or when to announce their pregnancy or what their plans for the future were.
But before she could think any further about it, Jimmy spoke.
“Willow won’t be my boss for much longer.”
Mary’s face lit up. “Oh, will you be moving in with Jimmy and Cassie then?” she asked, directing the question at Willow, already delighted with this idea.
Jimmy shook his head.
“No, Willow has a new job in Kirkwall. I’m moving to Orkney.” There was a stunned silence in the small lounge and for a moment Willow thought that all oxygen had been sucked out of the room. She fought the urge to get up and run out of the house.
“What about Cassie?” Mary asked.
“Cassie is coming with me, of course. Duncan’s moving away to Spain in a few weeks.”
Willow was glad that he’d spoken out, or else she might have made a comment about Mary’s irritating assumption that Willow would just up and leave everything behind for Jimmy.
Jimmy’s infamous patience was stretched thin, Willow thought. He’s no different than anybody else when it came to dealing with his own parents.
***
Jimmy had wanted to wait before he announced their plans, but the conversation had led to the topic and it would have been wrong not to mention their plans now. James was looking at him with a stern look, but he didn’t say anything.
“Isn’t that a bit much for Cassie?” It was his mother who said what both of them were thinking. “I mean, if Duncan’s moving away, that’s already a big change for her. And then moving her away from Shetland?”
Trust his mother to advocate for Cassie now, Jimmy thought, when she’d been the one who had suggested burning Fran’s letter in the sketch book, erase all traces of her bequeathing Cassie to him before anyone else knew.
“Nobody need ever know. It’s a big ask to raise another man’s child,” she’d said a few days after Fran’s death when Jimmy had returned to Fair Isle on his father’s request after they’d found the sketch book.
But Jimmy had had no choice. It was his reparation to make right what had been his fault for bringing Fran to Fair Isle in the first place, for involving her in a murder investigation that got her killed. It had been his duty to Fran and Cassie, and even though he hadn’t wanted to take on the responsibility, didn’t think he deserved it, drowning in grief, self-pity and guilt, it was what had given his life a purpose. Without Cassie, he thought, he wouldn’t have survived the years after Fran’s murder.
“Cassie will be fine,” Jimmy said, and he knew that she would be. Of course she would take some time getting used to the idea of moving away from Ravenswick, her friends and school. But she was an independent and adaptable child.
“Besides, Cassie won’t be by herself for long.”
Jimmy reached for Willow’s hand and looked at her bright eyes, her tousled hair, the freckles on her nose, and smiled.
“We’re expecting a baby. Willow and I, we’re going to be parents,” he said.
Mary took a moment to understand, then her face lit up in delight.
“Oh, Jimmy,” she said and came over to embrace him in a tight hug. “That is wonderful news.” She turned to Willow and hugged her too.
“Congratulations, Willow.”
Jimmy glanced at his father who, for just a moment, frowned.
Don’t you dare say anything about having a baby out of wedlock. Don’t you dare bring in your outdated morals into this. Not after showing what a hypocrite you were back then when you betrayed Mum with Angela, the scientist at the Fair Isle bird observatory while preaching about self-control in the local kirk.
James must have seen the dark look in Jimmy’s eyes because he reached over to him, took his hand and shook it.
“Congratulations, son,” he said, gripping his hand in a crush.
Mary stood, unable to sit after this exciting news. Pacing up and down the lounge, she asked, “Have you told Cassie yet?”
Willow shook her head. “We haven’t told anyone else.”
“What about your parents?” Mary asked.
Willow glanced over to Jimmy. “That’ll be the next trip, I think.”
Mary came over to stand beside Jimmy, still fidgeting. She put her hand on his shoulder.
“When is the baby due?” Mary wanted to know.
“October,” Willow said.
Mary seemed to have forgotten her concerns for Cassie. “Cassie will make a wonderful sister to a wee baby.”
***
Jimmy carried Willow’s bag upstairs and put it down in front of the bed. Willow followed him, took in the bright room, the colourful bedspread and curtains.
She sat down on the bed, glad to have escaped the constraints of the downstairs lounge.
“My folk can be a bit intense, I'm sorry,” Jimmy said as he sat down on a chair in the corner, looking at Willow.
“Your parents are lovely. Wait ‘til you meet mine!” She laughed. “They’ll question how you can be part of an authoritarian, patriarchal organisation that marginalises people who are already on the fringes of society.” She’d become a cop partly to rebel against her parents and a small part of her believed that they still hadn’t quite forgiven her for it.
“Will they now?” Jimmy said, leaning into his elbows which were resting on his knees, his dark eyes on her, a playful smirk on his face.
She returned his look. “Actually, I can just see you silence them with your charm,” she said, thinking about Jimmy’s kindness and patience, his ability to put anyone at ease. “I can just about picture Mum falling for you, if she were a little younger.”
His presence so close in the room confused her. This is what she had been dreaming of for the past year and now it was happening, quickly and without any warning, she was overwhelmed.
She had spent the last four months telling herself that she didn’t need Jimmy Perez in her life, that she was perfectly fine to bring up his child on her own. Looking at him, she wondered how she could have ever considered a life without him.
He looked at her from under his fringe, pulling her out of her thoughts, his voice so quiet she could hardly hear him.
“When did you fall for me?” he asked.
She considered the question, not sure exactly when her attraction had become more than just a fondness for the colleague with the sharp mind and the lost lover.
“At the end of the Markham murder inquiry. Before I returned to Inverness.”
Jimmy looked surprised.
“Really? I can’t believe you saw past my broodiness, my mood-swings and anger.”
Outside, a gust of wind rattled on the shutters. Willow feared that they’d miss out on a walk if they didn’t leave soon.
“Maybe falling isn't the right word,” Willow said with a smile. “But there were enough moments in between when I saw you for who you are.”
He didn’t push her but sat silently, doing what he did best - waiting. She’d seen it a dozen times during interviews with witnesses, suspects, victims. People felt compelled to fill his silences, to open up to this quiet man with his dark looks and untidy hair. They couldn’t not talk and now, she fell victim to this quality, too.
“You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met,” she said. “ You’re sharp. You have this uncanny ability to be whoever you need to be in your job in order to make people comfortable enough to confide in you.”
Jimmy smiled, then walked over to the window and opened it. Fresh air streamed into the small bedroom.
“I’m sorry I didn’t confide. Like I said on the boat, I’m sorry for not being there for you.”
He looked so serious she wanted to get up and wrap her arms around him, but this was all so new she didn’t know their rules of engagement yet. Was he really hers now that they’d had ‘the talk’?
“It’s fine, Jimmy. I’m glad we’ve worked it out.” She pushed up from the bed and walked over to the window to look down on the vegetable garden surrounded by a stone wall and the fields in the background.
“Can you show me around the Isle?” she asked, suddenly itching to get out into the fresh air, to stretch her limbs and spend time with Jimmy away from Springfield.
“Sure,” he said and joined her at the window. “See there,” he said, pointing at a derelict croft in the distance. “That’s where I spent a lot of time as a child, playing and exploring.”
He was so close she could smell the soap he’d used in the morning. His hair fell loosely over his ears down to the collar of his shirt. Willow lifted her hand in an impulse to touch it but then retracted and took his hand.
“Let’s go,” she said.
***
They walked across the Springfield paddocks, past a flock of ewes with fat lambs at foot, into a soft breeze that came off the coast. Unusually warm weather had followed a week of rain, James had said, and now the pasture had exploded into a lush green that almost looked unnatural in the bright afternoon sun.
Willow was silent, stopping every now and then to look at the surrounding scenery, shielding her eyes against the sun. Her blonde hair was swirling around her head whenever the breeze picked up and Jimmy thought in the short time they’d been out in the sun, the amount of freckles on the bridge of her nose had doubled.
That was probably not true, but this was the first time in four months that Jimmy allowed himself to study Willow properly. To look into her eyes and not avert his gaze, but take joy in her presence and the knowledge that she was here, with him. She stopped in front of a stile to cross a stonewall and turned to face him.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, lifting her arms to include Sheep Craig in the distance and the lighthouse nearby. In the distance he heard bleating ewes and the crying of lambs for their mothers.
The Isle suited her, Jimmy thought. All she needed was a hand-knitted Fair Isle jersey.
“Do we go across?” she asked, pointing at the wooden construction over the stonewall.
Jimmy nodded and she lifted her leg to reach the first step and pushed up. At the top of the stile, she stopped, straddling the stonewall, and looked across to the cliffs nearby.
“What a view!”
Jimmy came up behind her, close enough for Willow’s hair to brush his face, just like it had accidentally brushed his face three years earlier on the first day he’d met her.
Back then, the unexpected touch, the sudden lust had been so shocking it had felt like a betrayal so soon after Fran’s death. Despite the confusion and anger he felt that day, it didn’t take long for him to trust Willow. Her tactful way of including him in her first murder investigation in Shetland had helped him out of his depression.
Crashing waves and the screeching of seagulls could be heard all around them. Jimmy pushed Willow’s hair down gently, then lifted his hand onto her shoulder and pulled her in.
He thought of Cassie and how he’d tell her about Willow and the baby. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to tell her, to see her face when she heard that she would be a big sister to a baby. After Fran, Jimmy was convinced he’d never feel anything like this. He didn’t deserve to be happy, he'd thought. He didn’t deserve another chance at happiness or love. After Fran, no other woman had moved him. Until Willow came along.
“I’m glad I came,” she said into the breeze, turning her head slightly towards him.
“Me too,” he said, pulling her in closer and thinking that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy.
This is the woman I love, he thought. He wanted to tell her how glad he was, how much in love with her and their unborn child. But he couldn’t find the right words so he quietly repeated, “Me too.”
***
On their return from the walk, Jimmy stayed outside to help his father shift a mob of hoggets. Willow made her way into the house, through the kitchen, expecting to see Mary busy with her art or her craft. But she was nowhere to be seen and the house was still. Willow made her way upstairs to Jimmy’s room and stood in the middle of it, suddenly overcome by a tiredness she’d thought she’d shaken off after the first three months of her pregnancy. She stepped up to the window and opened it to let the fresh breeze in.
Maybe the calmness she’d felt outside with Jimmy by her side had masked the enormity of emotions she was feeling about the events that had unfolded a few hours ago.
She’d accepted Jimmy’s invitation to join him on his visit to his parents on Fair Isle without any second thoughts. She’d long moved on from the hurt he’d caused when she told him about her unexpected pregnancy, the result of one night spent with Jimmy in his Ravenswick home, Fran’s house, where he lived with Cassie.
“I won’t make any demands of you, Jimmy,” she had said even though in her wildest dreams she’d hoped that he would share her joy and ask her to marry him.
But he had been so distant and cold that she thought she would be better off without him. Even when he picked her up from the airport and took her to board the Good Shepherd, she didn’t think that they could be anything more than friends.
Willow took her jeans off, pulled the duvet cover off the bed and lay down on the crisp sheet, closing her eyes. She put one hand over her stomach and fell asleep.
***
“It smells lovely in here,” Jimmy said to Mary when he came into the kitchen, looking forward to sharing a dram with his father and catching up on the island gossip.
He reached for the malt whisky in the cabinet and poured three glasses, knowing that his mother appreciated the rare occasion to share a drink with
Jimmy. She sat down in her favourite seat, took a deep breath and smiled at him. He could see that she was dying to grill him about Willow, to know all the details about how they got together. But she was holding back, hoping that he would offer some details without her asking.
In the end, Jimmy couldn’t wait any longer. He could outlast any witness, hardened criminals, dodgy suspects with his legendary silence, but not his mother. She was the one who could always crack his patience.
“I’ve been an oaf with Willow,” he offered before he lifted his glass to her.
Mary studied him, took a sip herself, then waited. He’d always thought his patience and ease with silence came from her, not his father who could be impulsive and impatient.
“But I’ve worked it out now. And I’m lucky it’s not too late. She hasn’t given up on me.” He gave Mary a smile, then emptied the dram with one sip.
“Oh, Jimmy. You’ve no idea how happy I am to see you happy. And to expect our first grandchild!”
She blinked away a few tears, then smiled back at him.
“I’m glad that you’ve worked it out. Willow seems like a wonderful woman.”
He nodded his head, then spotted his father come in through the door, pulling his woolen vest over his head.
“She’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met,” Jimmy said. “And sharp. The best detective I’ve ever worked with.”
James joined them, reached for the dram and lifted it up in a salute.
“To you and Willow,” he said.
Jimmy poured himself another dram and topped up his mother’s.
“And to the baby,” Mary said.
The whisky trickled down Jimmy’s throat, warming him from the inside. He stood, kissed his mother on the head, embraced his father in a brief hug, then made his way upstairs.
***
Willow woke up to feel Jimmy’s eyes on her. Lying on her side, she could feel his presence without opening her eyes. She relished in the knowledge that he was here for a little longer, pictured him looking at her small bulge that her t-shirt barely covered. She imagined his hand on her belly, the baby moving, their eyes connecting.
She smiled to herself, then opened her eyes.
“What are you so happy about?” Jimmy asked, sitting very still at the small desk in the room.
Willow blushed. She never used to indulge in sentimental thoughts, was always level-headed and pragmatic when it came to relationships with men.
But Jimmy Perez had got under her skin, and the hormones raging through her body were undefeatable, turning her into a soppy woman most of the time.
“I was thinking how happy I am to be here.” With you, she added in her head, but didn’t say it.
Jimmy gave her one of his smiles that made her stomach flip, then he took the few steps to stand beside the bed. Willow shuffled over to make room for him but he crouched down low instead so that he was eye-to-eye with her. Willow looked into his dark eyes, thinking that they’d softened since she’d last seen him, as if they’d lost a protective shield and now she could see what he was really feeling. She uncurled her arm from under her body and reached for his face, running her hand over his cheek, pushing the hair that was always a bit too long out of his eyes.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for months,” she whispered, not breaking eye-contact. His presence, his words, all of this was still so new she was terrified to find out that it had been a dream, and so she didn’t want to miss a second to look at him.
Jimmy leaned his cheek against her hand and closed his eyes. There were fine lines on his forehead and a shadow of stubble on his chin.
Willow had a sudden vision of escaping the confines of the house and the Isle with him, of staying in a cottage on the mainland coast with views of the sea and the cliffs, and the sound of the surf and the wind drifting through the open window. They’d sit on the deck outside in the simmerdim, Jimmy drinking a whisky, Willow a cup of herbal tea, talking in quiet voices about the past and the future, and Jimmy would empty the dram, he’d get up and reach for her hand and take her to bed with views of the ocean and he’d make love to her, the bump of their baby between them.
Jimmy opened his eyes and shifted on his knees, then leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. She wanted to pull him in, to kiss him properly on the lips, but before she knew it, he’d sat up beside her on the bed, looking down on her. Once upon a time she would have felt uncomfortable, vulnerable when a man would look at her like that, but now she wanted nothing more than for him to see her. To see her as a woman, not a detective, not a colleague, but his lover, and the mother of his unborn child.
“Can I?” he asked, lifting his hand in hesitation, then glancing down on her baby bump.
“Of course,” she said, moved that he’d asked, not just assumed that it would be okay. Of course it would have been okay without explicit permission, but she loved him for asking first. That was the kind of man he was.
He gently pushed her t-shirt up, then put his hand on her bump. The touch sent a jolt through to Willow, but Jimmy was in a daze, not registering what his touch did to her nerves.
She was burning up inside, giddy and excitable, but this couldn’t be rushed. She’d had months to get used to the feeling of a life growing inside her, but it was all new to Jimmy. He hadn’t allowed himself to connect with this baby before, had tried to ignore the reality of what had happened after they’d spent one night together during a difficult murder investigation.
He ran his hand over to the side, then back up across her belly button and down the other side. Lifting his eyes to look up at her, he said, “This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in my life.”
Willow smiled.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Jimmy’s hand stopped, then tugged on her t-shirt to cover her bump. She felt the loss of his touch as if he’d left and wanted to pull him over to wrap her legs around him just so he couldn’t escape.
But he picked up her hand and kissed it, then said, “Aye, I am. I am.”
The air in the bedroom had cooled down. Goosebumps were spreading over her legs. Just when she was tempted to ask Jimmy to join her under the covers, she heard Mary’s voice.
“Jimmy? Willow? Dinner is ready.”
He stood and reached for her hand to pull her up.
“I’ll see you downstairs in a minute?” Jimmy asked as he turned to leave. But Willow didn’t let go of his hand and pulled him back.
“Jimmy?”
“Yes?”
He was close enough for her to feel his breath on her so it didn’t take much to lean forward and kiss him on the lips. Only then she let him go.
***
Dinner was rich and filling just like he remembered from his childhood. His mother’s famous lamb roast, tatties and greens from the garden provided a perfect backdrop to a pleasant evening with snippets of Fair Isle gossip. Mary had prepared a special vegetarian dish with chickpeas, lentils, broad beans and spinach for Willow. It seemed that she liked it very much because she took three helpings while talking about her childhood in the Hebrides.
They took tea, coffee and apple crumble in the lounge afterwards, followed by a dram and more stories from the Isle.
According to James, the field centre was busy as usual over the summer months. The coast was teeming with birdlife and the Isle was abuzz with tourists.
“The B&Bs are all fully booked, of course,” Mary said.
It occurred to Jimmy only then that he hadn’t finalised sleeping arrangements with Willow. Of course she would sleep in his old bedroom, but would she want him in there with him?
He hoped she would, but he didn’t want to make assumptions. She might need more time to get used to the idea of him being more than a sperm donor, even though deep down he knew that she’d always wanted him to be more than that.
She’d told him as much after their night together. Made it clear that she wasn’t usually in the business of sleeping with colleagues.
Of course, there was always his sister’s old room which served as a sewing and crafts room now. The narrow bed his sister had slept on was still in there. Or he could sleep on the sofa. It would seem odd to his parents, but he didn’t care.
“Can you take me for a drive around the Isle?” Willow asked, looking uncomfortable on the sofa beside his dad with her long lanky legs stretched out in front of her. Maybe she thought it would be impolite to sit on the floor like she did in Jimmy’s house in Ravenswick. During their long investigations, she and Sandy would often visit, have a bite to eat, then stay late into the night, untangling the strands of an inquiry. Willow had never sat on the sofa there, but always on the floor, looking more comfortable than on a chair, and surprisingly supple when she got up.
“It’d be good to stretch our legs, maybe go for a little walk.”
Jimmy would be fine to drive, he thought. He’d only had a small drink and it would be good to get away from Springfield for an hour or two before nighttime. The sun was still up in the sky and the night would barely get dark in the simmerdim.
“Sure,” Jimmy said, looking for his father’s approval to use the Land Rover. James smiled, put his hand on Willow’s shoulder for the briefest of moments, and said, “Off you go, you two lovebirds.”
Willow gave him a broad smile, then reached for Jimmy who pulled her up by the hands.
“See you tomorrow morning, if not earlier,” Jimmy said as they grabbed their coats and boots and left the house.
In the Land Rover, Jimmy held her hand while they made their way up the farm track onto the narrow road. He pointed out different crofts on the way, naming land owners, mentioning family connections, listing friends that had left the island, or others who had returned.
When he pulled up in front of the field centre, it didn’t take long for someone to come out. They were visitors, for Jimmy didn’t know them.
“Nice evening for a walk,” a man with an American accent said. A woman with binoculars around her neck smiled at them.
“Aye,” Jimmy said, keen to move on to be alone with Willow. She was now the centre of his attention in the short time since they’d been on the boat. He didn’t want to waste time spent with strangers if he could spend it with her.
“Let’s go,” he said and took Willow’s hand. They crossed fields of heather, a long stretch of pasture that had just been grazed. Side-stepping sheep droppings and small rocks, they walked in silence for a long time. A few times, he glanced over to Willow, but she was concentrating on her steps, one hand covering her stomach.
He thought how easy it was to be with her. There was no effort, no pretense in being with her. Knowing that she cared for him deeply gave him a sense of ease he hadn’t felt for years.
They were nearly down to sea level now. A pool stretched out in front of them, surrounded by jagged rocks and the cliff below. Willow’s hand tightened around his as they approached and Jimmy was grateful for the bright sunshine, the salty air and the breeze in his face.
***
Willow recognised the spot from the photos of the inquiry into Fran’s murder. She’d spent hours reading up on the case, on the details leading up to her tragic death, the violent stabbing in the beam of the lighthouse. She’d become a little bit obsessed with the dark detective and his quiet grief, especially since he never talked about what had happened. She’d read the transcript of Sandy’s frantic call for an ambulance flight, Jimmy’s witness statement and the murderer’s feeble attempt at justifying his actions.
It was a beautiful spot of peace and sunshine now, all traces of Fran’s blood on the rocks long washed off. Even with the knowledge about the case Willow could not picture the devastating events that had unfolded that night.
She held Jimmy’s hand tighter and glanced over to him. He looked into the horizon, frozen solid for a while, it seemed, until suddenly, he turned to face her and pulled her in very tight. They stood like this for a long time, their hair swirling around them with every breeze.
“Is this the first time you’ve returned?” she asked, still wrapped in his arms, inhaling the scent of his neck that smelled so familiar, but new and exciting at the same time.
“Aye,” he said.
She wondered if he wished she were Fran, then pushed the thought out of her head. That way lay madness. A small part of him would always grieve for her, and that was okay. He gently lifted her chin with his fingers, pressed his cheek against hers and said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
They looked out to sea, down into the surf and only when they turned to make their way back did Jimmy’s eyes briefly glance at the rocks in front of them.
By the time they returned to the Land Rover, the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, but it was still light enough to see every rock in front of them. The simmerdim bathed the scenery around them into a glossy postcard that Willow wanted to imprint in her memory so she could take it back home. She was exhausted. The afternoon nap seemed like days ago and she was dying to go to bed.
“Are you okay?” she asked Jimmy when he looked at her before starting the engine. He looked tired, too, worn out by the wind and the sun and the severity of the decision he made today.
“Aye.”
Willow didn’t attempt to make any more conversation. Used to his long silences, she thought that he would talk about Fran one day, when he was ready. And if he didn’t, she would be fine with that too, because she’d understood if he wanted to keep his memories of her to himself.
At Springfield, Mary and James were in the lounge watching TV. Willow poked her head in briefly.
“Thank you again for the wonderful meal, Mary. Good night.” She was on her way upstairs when Jimmy called her back.
“Willow?”
“Yes?”
“I can sleep on the sofa if you want to have the bed to yourself,” he said. “I understand if you want to be on your own.”
She stepped down a couple of stairs and looked down on him.
“Jimmy Perez,” she said, unable to suppress a smile. She opened her mouth to say that he had haunted her dreams for years, then changed her mind because she didn’t want to appear needy. “That is the last thing I want,” she said instead.
He was visibly relieved.
“I’ll make sure I move over to make room for you,” she said, then turned around and left him at the bottom of the stairs.
***
By the time he’d finished another dram with his father, the night was as dark as it would get: a grey diffuse light that was neither day nor night.
Jimmy stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. The tightness he’d felt near the pool where Fran had died had left him, and now he was light and full of hope. He thought of Cassie who had rung Mary and James when he’d been out with Willow. Tempted to ring her back even though it was past her bedtime, he’d listened to Mary who reassured him that Cassie was fine and that she’d said not to worry about her. She was staying at her friend’s house for the weekend and was having a grand old time.
Jimmy made his way upstairs in the semi-darkness. He brushed his teeth in the small bathroom and quietly pushed down the door handle to open the bedroom.
Willow had left the window ajar and the air was chilly. Jimmy turned his phone on silent, quickly undressed and slipped in next to Willow. Loathe to wake her, he lay still beside her, listening to her breathing.
“I thought you’d chickened out,” she mumbled as she turned to face him. Her long legs immediately wrapped themselves around his.
“As if I’d even consider it,” he said.
Her hands were hot on his cool chest, just like her mouth that was searching for his with impatient urgency. She kissed him with an intensity that took his breath away, making him forget that they were in his childhood bedroom under the roof of his parents’ house.
As he peeled off her clothes he wondered if the baby created this extra heat coming off her. Or was it the summer night and the longing for him that caused it?
He pressed his body against hers, still kissing her with eyes closed, taking in the heat of her skin, her scent, the hair that was tickling him. Just when he thought that this woman was the most incredible person ever and how could he be so lucky to have met her, the firm bump between them pushed against his stomach, and they both laughed, catching their breath.
“It’s a bit different now with this one between us,” Willow said. He opened his eyes and looked at her face in the semi-darkness. He could still make out the bright spark in them, her long hair and her wide smile.
“I think we’ll manage,” he said and pulled her on top of him.
***
Willow woke up, courtesy of the baby that pushed down on her bladder. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept through the night without having to get up to the toilet. Sunlight was already filtering through the open window. Last night, neither Jimmy nor Willow had pulled the curtains and now it felt like mid-morning.
The spot beside her was empty. In a moment of panic, she thought that Jimmy had left her behind on the Isle and returned to Shetland on his own. His clothes were missing. She pushed up from the bed and made her way to the bathroom.
There was a chill in the air that reminded her of growing up in Uist, spending her holidays out in the outdoors, sleeping in tents, wandering around in the early hours of the morning to spot birds with her father.
Back in the bedroom, she slipped a pair of trainers on and went downstairs. A cup of herbal tea sat on the bench, lukewarm, for her, she presumed. She picked it up and stepped outside onto the porch. The sun was already on the horizon, replacing the simmerdim with an orange light that softened the croft’s sharp edges.
Willow took a sip of her tea, searching the surrounding yard for any sight of Jimmy. The screeching of birds and bleating of lambs filled the air. Willow leaned against the wall of the house and sipped her tea, her arms wrapped around her to keep the chill off. She spotted Jimmy sitting on a stone wall near the vegetable garden with a cup in his hand. He looked up at the same time, stood and made his way across to her in fast strides.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said before she even had a chance to ask. “I’ve been up all night.”
Willow lifted her hand to his face and touched his cheek.
“Is everything okay?”
Jimmy smiled. He looked exhausted, but happy.
“Aye, everything’s okay."
He paused and took a sip from his coffee. Willow waited. She was getting better at this, too.
"It’s just the simmerdim. You, the baby and…,” he hesitated, looked into her eyes, then continued. “Cassie.”
Willow smiled. The orange light bathed his face in a warm glow, making his olive skin look lighter than usual. “What about Cassie?”
“I want to talk to her. Tell her about you and the baby.”
She took his hand and pulled him closer. "How do you think she'll take it?"
Jimmy wrapped his arms around her and breathed in deeply. For a while, Willow thought he wouldn't answer. She didn't mind. There was no rush in getting used to any of this. They had all the time in the world.
"She'll be happy, I'm sure," Jimmy said and gently pushed Willow away from him so he could look into her eyes. "She likes you. And she'll make a great sister."