‘Oh!’ Pat leapt out of her chair and enveloped Anna in a hug. Anna laughed as Frank joined them, and for a second the three of them held on to each other. Anna found her face wet with tears. She was relieved beyond belief, both that they finally knew and that they had reacted so happily.

Eventually Pat pulled back. ‘So…’ she said, as Frank sat down beside Anna. ‘Liam’s staying here, then? In the UK, with you?’

‘No. He’s still going home. He asked me to go with him, but I don’t want to.’

Pat shook her head, taking Anna’s hand and squeezing it. ‘Brave,’ she said, her voice a little thick.

‘No, just determined,’ Anna said. ‘And a bit daft. Maybe more than a bit.’

‘But you’re still planning to move on?’ Pat asked. ‘You won’t stay here?’

Anna shook her head. ‘Honestly? The sensible thing to do is move before the baby gets here, try to get settled somewhere else. But…’

‘But?’ There was a hopeful look on Pat’s face.

Anna raised her hands, palm up, a ‘What can I do?’ gesture. ‘A big part of me wants to have the baby here. I honestly don’t know how to make that work, but this place… everyone here…’

Pat smiled beatifically. ‘We’ve got under your skin, eh?’

Anna laughed, though there were tears threatening, too. ‘I suppose you have. You told me you would, didn’t you?’

‘A crib,’ Frank announced arbitrarily. ‘That’s what the Fishergirl’s Luck needs. A custom-built crib that’ll be a perfect fit. I can do that. Will you let me?’

The tears kept coming. ‘Of course I will,’ Anna said. ‘I’m so glad you’re both happy about it. I think I’m going to need you. I’m going to need you both.’

Pat hugged her again. ‘We’ll be here, love.’

‘You know what they say,’ Frank said with a grin. ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’

Anna laughed through her tears. ‘Yes! And do you know what? This is home now. I don’t really know when it happened, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I don’t want to, either. I miss the Usual Suspects. It’s been too long since we had a get-together, and it’s my fault because I’ve been so busy.’

‘Don’t you worry about that, love,’ Frank said. ‘None of us are going anywhere, either.’

My own selkie lass,

If I bought you flowers, yellow ones, every single one I could find between Inverness and Cromarty, if I filled the house with them, all for you, would I feel better?

I bought beetroot. It was deliberate. It was a penance, and it isn’t enough.

I love you. I love the memory of you, so much that I wish it were more than a memory. But it isn’t.

I never expected her. I never did.