*/*/*/*/*
The report from Craig arrives Tuesday afternoon and, based on locations close to the old pubs in town, they send in the request for DNA testing on the remains of a half-dozen Jane Doe's. It'll take months for the results to get back since the case isn't just on the back-burner; it's been off the stove ever since Archie confessed.
They glumly acknowledge on Thursday morning that other than circling the location on the map where the old pubs were located, they appear to be once again at an impasse. They know Ginger Delgado lied to them, but they don't know why or what, exactly, she's hiding, or why she still feels the need to hide anything at all when it comes to Francesca's disappearance.
"Maybe she saw the murder," Hardy says.
"But why lie about it? Archie confessed."
"Maybe it wasn't Archie. Or maybe it wasn't only Archie."
She raises an eyebrow. "One of the other AlphaBetties had a hand in it?"
He shrugs, leaning back in his chair, long and lanky, hair standing on end from where he's been running his fingers through it. The sight doesn't distract her as much as it had last week. Of course, they'd parted ways on Friday night and hadn't seen each other again until Monday morning, when she walked in to find him as grumpy and taciturn as ever, crouched behind his desk and glaring at the computer. To Ellie's relief, he's been just...him most of the week. Although she's randomly surprised throughout each day by her suddenly far-from-platonic reactions to him, it's not often, really. She hasn't been distracted at all today, for instance. Maybe it means she's getting used to...whatever-this-is or maybe, she thinks, suddenly hopeful, it means whatever-this-is is already fading away.
That thought is immediately disproved as he pushes himself to his feet with a frustrated growl and strides back to the murder board, and she catches herself checking out his arse before she realizes what's she's doing and hastily follows him.
She stifles an appalled groan and just manages to stop herself from covering her face in embarrassment. They're at work, for God's sake, and this is no place to be ogling anybody's arse! Even if he wasn't her former boss and, well...Hardy, of all people.
She fetches up beside him and they both glare at the murder board as if it's deliberately hiding the answers to all their problems and if they stare long enough, a large red arrow saying "Francesca is here" will suddenly appear.
They both turn at a knock on the door to find their CI watching them with a bemused smirk.
"I see you finally managed to make some space in here," she says.
"A little, yah," Hardy says as he prowls back towards the door and Ellie forces herself to keep her eyes trained on Elaine. "I'll get the rest moved out after the first."
"Don't forget what's in the mail room," Elaine says, "but that's not why I'm here."
"Didn't think it was," he sighs.
"Any more progress?" she asks, indicating the murder board with a tilt of her head.
"We might get lucky with the DNA tests," Ellie says, "but we won't know for months."
"Right," Elaine says briskly, "well, we seem to be having a bit of a crime spree out here. Think you two can lend a hand?"
*/*/*/*/*
Hardy's quickly reminded that 'crime spree' in Broadchurch has a much different meaning than anywhere else in England and, possibly, the world. But the petty crimes that come their way keep them busy enough to once again let him put off reading the case files sent by the people who saw him on the telly.
Tess and Dave arrive Thursday afternoon and promptly take Daisy away with them for a short holiday. Hardy's relieved to not have to deal with Tess and Dave staying in the same hotel with him, but he misses Daisy immediately. He thinks it's worse than when he'd first left Sandbrook. He absently rubs the spot where his pacemaker is located. Of course, he had other things on his mind then, and he'd been trying to protect her from so much more than just her mother's infidelity.
He glances across at Miller, who's frowning at her computer and scribbling notes. At least she's been less skittish the last week or so, and he briefly toys with the idea of asking her what had been going. He quickly decides against it. She's never been shy about pointing out where he'd gone wrong so maybe whatever was bothering her really didn't have anything to do with him.
Well. At least he has hope.
He hides a self-deprecating smirk and turns his attention back to his work.
*/*/*/*/*
Daisy returns the following Saturday with a mulish set to her mouth and angry fire in her eyes and Hardy's heart drops when she barely suffers his welcome hug and kiss against the top of her head before she disentangles herself and turns away.
He looks from her to Tess and raises an eyebrow in question. Tess just gives a small shake of her head and says nothing.
He turns back to Daisy. "You'll be staying at Miller's tonight," he says. "Uncle Charlie and Aunt Rachel are on their way and the hotel doesn't have enough rooms available."
"Chloe said I could spend the night at her place," Daisy says.
"If it's all right with her parents," Hardy says and she scowls.
"We're sixteen, Dad-Chloe's almost seventeen! They're not babysitting us!"
"Keep that tone and I may ask them to," he snaps. She glares and flounces off. He shakes his head, mouth pressed into a tight line as he scrolls through his phone for Beth's number.
Chloe's already talked with Beth and she's agreed, and he goes to find Daisy where she's sitting huddled into a small ball in an armchair near the entrance of the hotel. She looks young and vulnerable and his worry about what happened while she was gone increases. He crouches down so he can look in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, darlin'," he says, "I shouldn't have snapped at you. Are you going to tell me what's got you so upset?"
She looks over his shoulder and he glances behind him to see Tess and Dave hovering in the doorway leading to the pub. He turns back to Daisy, eyebrows raised.
"Later," Daisy says and gets to her feet. He stands as well and she shifts her weight from one foot to another, then mutters, "I'm sorry, too, Dad. I'm not mad at you."
"Awright," he sighs. "The Latimers are waiting for you. We're getting the house tomorrow, so meet us there at nine, yah? We'll get settled in just in time for the first day of school."
She smiles a little at that and hugs him, then gives her mother a guarded look and an even more guarded hug and hurries off.
He turns and looks at Tess and Dave. "What was that about?" he demands.
They exchange an uncomfortable look then Tess says, "She's still very angry. She's just acting out." She gives him a tight-lipped smile. "We'll see you tomorrow, yah?"
He nods and watches them go.
*/*/*/*/*
Rachel and Charlie arrive that evening, pulling a small moving trailer behind their car. The trailer's filled with the boxes Tess had packed up for Hardy, his belongings from their house in Sandbrook. He looks at the boxes and wonders what the hell could even be in them, but at least the house wouldn't seem quite so bare after they move in.
Supper is at Miller's and afterwards, he walks Charlie and Rachel past the house on their way back to the Traders and suffers their good-natured teasing at how close he's going to be to Miller and whether she was prepared to put up with him living so close.
Tess calls him early, tells him Dave wouldn't be coming along—not that he was invited, Hardy thinks snidely-and they walk together to the house to meet the leasing agent and get the keys. He gives her a tour while they wait for everyone else to arrive and as they stand in the back garden, looking over the common, Tess says, "I thought it would be farther away," with a tilt of her head towards Miller's house.
He frowns, wondering how she knows which house is which, then remembers she'd been with Daisy for a week and she likely mentioned something.
"It's Broadchurch," he says, "nothing's farther away."
She smiles a little at that and turns to him. "Is this really where you want to be for the rest of your life?"
"I don't know about that, but the next few years, yah. At least as long as Daisy wants to stay."
"Is following Daisy all you have to look forward to?" she asks and he frowns again, searching her face.
"I'm still getting used to the idea that I have a future, Tess," he says and she winces a little.
"Are you sure this is the place you want to spend it?" is all she says.
He turns his eyes back towards Miller's house and sees she's on her way over with wee Fred in his stroller and Tom towering beside her even though he's only thirteen. He softens and something must show in his face because Tess turns and looks then turns back to him with a half-pained, half-jealous expression in her eyes.
"Like that, is it?" she snaps.
He looks at her, eyes wide, his mouth twisting, but he just shakes his head and opens the gate for Miller and her sons.
*/*/*/*/*
It doesn't take long to move in, really, since he's leased most of the furniture that was already in the house. Daisy's nose crinkles at the bed in her room and Hardy promises they can get a new bed for her in a month or two. She's not impressed with the sofa either but, like the beds, it's good enough for now.
They unload the moving trailer then Miller drives them back to the hotel to get their suitcases and pay the final bill. Becca gives him her cheeky smile and says she's sorry to see them go. He nods without speaking and as he walks out with Daisy, he hopes he won't have to live in a hotel again for a good long while.
They've rearranged furniture and added the small pieces Tess had given him from the house by the time lunch rolls round. Hardy spends some time digging through boxes then carrying them to their proper rooms before he takes a few minutes to go through a box of the clothes he'd left behind when he'd left Sandbrook the first time. He scowls at a pair of jeans he hasn't seen in two years and suddenly realizes the house is far too quiet for the number of people roaming round the place.
He goes downstairs to find Tess alone in the kitchen, unwrapping cups and mugs from the newspaper she'd used to pack them and putting them in the hot, soapy water that fills the sink.
He lifts a questioning eyebrow as he joins her.
"They're hungry and have gone to find take-away for us."
"Fish and chips," he sighs, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling up his sleeves as he walks to the sink.
"Your favourite," Tess says with a laugh as she puts the last mug into the sink.
"Next to chicken," he agrees. They share a look warm with memories of a happier time as she picks up a dish towel and stations herself ready beside him.
For the first time in years, Hardy feels like he recognizes the woman beside him, and he smiles at her. He washes the dishes and she dries in comfortable silence until he picks one particularly garish mug out of the soapy water and stares at it with a disgusted expression.
"Oh, for God's sake-not this bloody thing!" he growls.
"You love this mug and you know it!" Tess says but can't keep a straight face at his disbelieving expression.
"You only bought it because I hated it and you wanted to torture me with it!"
It is an ugly thing, he thinks, wild patterns and clashing colours proudly proclaiming the name of the cheap amusement park they'd stumbled across about a year after they'd married and a couple years before Daisy. They'd found the mug in the tacky souvenir shop she'd insisted on dragging him into and his immediate, visceral rejection of it had guaranteed she'd buy it-and then periodically try to convince him to drink out of it or use it at work or just acknowledge it, really.
He should have known the marriage was falling apart when the damn thing stopped randomly appearing round him.
He tests the weight of it in his hand, feeling almost fond.
"Why pack this for me?" he asks. His eyes are soft as he turns to her.
Tess grimaces and shrugs. "I...don't really know," she says. "It was...it just seemed like the right thing to do." She touches the lip of the mug with one finger. "We had some good times, Alec. Some really fun times."
"Really?" he asks skeptically. "I got the impression I was never any fun."
She smirks suddenly, eyes warm and teasing. "You had your moments," she says.
For a moment he's suspended in time, in memory, and dear God, he misses her and it hurts almost as much as when they first broke apart, when he was alone in the public firestorm after the pendant, when he was alone and angry and hurting and so scared as his life crumbled round him, yet still convinced he was going to solve Sandbrook, regain his professional reputation, get healthy, and reclaim his wife and child and his fucking life.
He looks at Tess with dark and solemn eyes. "What went wrong, Tess?" he asks gently.
Her smirk fades and she drops her gaze to where her finger is lightly stroking the lip of the mug in Hardy's hands. She quietly sighs and says, "You stopped seeing me."
"You should have said something."
"I did, Alec. You stopped hearing me, too."
He's suddenly red-hot with fury, but he stops and forces the anger away. He's been angry for too long and he wants...he searches Tess' face. So familiar, but he knows she's a stranger to him now. Maybe she'd always been a stranger to him.
She's staring at him, her eyes sad and thoughtful. "Maybe I should have spoken louder, yah?"
He presses his lips together into a tight line, then says, "Maybe, yah. And maybe I should have realized I wasn't hearing you anymore." His eyes cling to hers as they stand in silence, then he says, "I'm sorry, Tess. You made me happy for a long time. I just wish I could say I did the same for you. For what it's worth, I really did love you."
Something flashes across her face. "Did."
"You're Daisy's mother. A part of me will always love you."
Her mouth twists and her eyes are suddenly suspiciously wet. "But you're not in love with me anymore."
"No." He smiles slightly. "That should make you happy." His gaze sharpens. "Are you happy, Tess?"
She stares at him for a long moment then says, "You're a good man, Alec. You have a kind heart, even if you don't like to show it."
"That isn't an answer."
She smiles, leans in and presses a gentle, chaste kiss against his lips. He almost flinches at the familiar yet strange feel of her mouth against his, and there's a bittersweet feel to it as he just as gently and chastely responds because he knows he's kissing her-and everything they'd once shared-good-bye.
The others return a few minutes later, bursting in to the house on a wave of noise surrounded by the smell of fish and oil. Hardy doesn't think about his conversation with Tess again until long after everyone has gone and Daisy's setting her bedroom to rights, when he goes into the kitchen and carefully sets the mug at the very back of the cupboard.
*/*/*/*/*
They clear out the office and mail room over the next week, and on Saturday Miller arrives at his back door with a brisk, "Right, then, time to sort through that mail, yah?" as she brushes past him.
Daisy finds them that night comfortably bickering over a particular file sent in by someone and whether it's something they could pursue or whether it's something they pass on to the police in charge of the investigation.
It's late when Ellie finally leaves, and Hardy walks out with her to the back garden. They're still bickering but there's a pause as she puts her hand on the gate. She looks up at him and there's something in his face-what she can see of it in the half-light and shadows-that makes her giddy and warm and she blushes, thinking she feels more like a girl in the midst of her first crush rather than an almost-forty-year-old woman.
She likes the feeling and she's in no hurry to do anything other than enjoy it. It makes her feel...new. She doesn't know why it's Hardy, of all bloody people, who makes her feel this way, but she's getting used to it…and maybe it's not so bad that it's him after all.
She gives him a quick smile.
"Good-night, Hardy."
"Good-night, Miller," he says and she slips through the gate and is gone.
*/*/*/*/*
By the time September slides into October, life has slipped into a routine.
Hardy calls Dottie every Monday, sometimes just to give her an opportunity to be angry. Breakfast is at Miller's on Wednesday mornings, although not one of them could explain why. Sunday brunch rotates between Miller's, the Latimers' and Hardy's houses. Chloe usually spends the night at Hardy's on Thursdays, while Daisy stays at the Latimers' on Friday and doesn't return until Saturday afternoon. More often than not, Miller arrives at Hardy's, wee Fred beside her, late on Saturday morning, after Tom has gone to his football practice and he usually spends the afternoon with those few boys who are still friendly with him. Hardy and Miller take Fred for long walks, or to the beach or the playground, or they set him up with toys in the living room when they're working.
Hardy and Miller often end up at each other's houses between these days, depending on what they're working on. When she's at his house, Hardy always walks her out through the back garden where they say good-night and he gently latches the gate behind her.
Daisy's smiling more, telling him more, and she says she's happy. She's not speaking much to her mother and still won't tell him what happened the week she spent with Tess and Dave so he's not surprised when Tess calls and asks him to persuade Daisy to spend the last week of October, autumn break, with her at a resort town.
He tries, but Daisy shuts him down and shuts him out the minute he brings up the topic. He mentions something at breakfast one Wednesday about a fortnight before the break. Daisy blanks on him, and Miller nags at him until he tells her the problem over tea that afternoon.
"Is it really so important to you that she spends this break with her mother?" Miller asks, face scrunched up in confusion.
"She's sixteen," he growls, "she needs her mother. They haven't seen each other since the term started and they don't talk much on the phone."
"Did Daisy say why she doesn't want to spend a week at a posh resort with her mum?"
"She said she's already made plans with Chloe but won't tell me what they are. She finally told me she doesn't want Dave and his kids along, but doesn't want to be alone with Tess either. I sure as hell won't be going with them!"
Ellie frowns. "What about sending Chloe along?"
He shakes his head. "Thought of that, but Tess wants to spend time alone with Daisy. I don't want Chloe left to her own devices for most of the week."
Miller hums thoughtfully but drops the subject until Sunday brunch, which is at the Latimers that week. Miller broaches the subject, finds out where Tess wants to take Daisy and in about thirty minutes has turned the mother-daughter solo holiday into a Girls Only Trip, with Miller, Beth, Chloe and wee Lizzie along for the ride—and to run interference if needed.
Everything's arranged before they leave that afternoon, including calling Tess to get her agreement, making arrangements to meet at the resort, and booking the rooms.
"Tell me, Miller," he says as they walk across the common, Tom and Daisy roaming ahead while he and Miller amble along with wee Fred, "did you come up with the idea to help Daisy or because you want a holiday?"
"I guess you'll never know," she teases with a slightly wicked smile as she picks up Fred and veers off to follow Tom home.
He stands motionless, staring after her, and wonders if she actually just flirted with him...or not.
He ducks his head and changes direction towards his house, and wishes he was better at reading women when they're not suspects in an investigation.
*/*/*/*/*
The next two weeks fly by and before he knows it, it's autumn break. Everyone converges at the Latimers and there's semi-controlled chaos as they pack the car, with one or the other or several people rushing round for last minute items and things they've forgotten. Between the constant darting from one place to the other, the leave-taking devolves into what seems to be a knot of people trying to say good-bye and safe travels. Hardy ends up being hugged by Chloe, then hugged and kissed by Daisy, and is then passed on to Miller, which is when where he drops a swift kiss on to her mouth without thinking.
"Drive safe," he says brusquely when he lifts his head and only then realizes what he's done. He freezes and stares at her with wide, horrified eyes.
Oh, shit, he thinks. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Her eyes are almost as wide and shocked as his but there's time for anything more than an awkward smile as she hurries into the car.
He can barely bring himself to lift a hand in farewell as they drive away and he decides, in the suddenly peaceful aftermath of their departure, that this would be the perfect moment for a hole to open up beneath his feet and swallow him up. Just erase him from the world so he doesn't have to deal with this embarrassing shit when he sees Miller again.
*/*/*/*/*
"Ellie," Daisy says with too-bright curiosity, chin resting on the seat behind Beth, "why did Dad kiss you good-bye?"
Ellie blushes a fiery red and gives Daisy an awkward smile. "I'm sure it was an accident," she says then winces at how utterly, utterly stupid that sounds. Stubbing a toe is an accident, she thinks scathingly, kissing seldom is.
She realizes the only person not staring avidly at her is Lizzie, and she says, "I'm sure he just...just..."
"Just what?" Chloe asks and Ellie gives a helpless shrug and gives Beth a pleading look.
"Awright, girls," Beth says briskly, "it was just a good-bye kiss. Friends do it all the time, so you can stop teasing."
The girls reluctantly sit back in their seats, pouting a little, and they don't appear to hear Beth mutter, "But we are having a serious talk tonight, Ell."
*/*/*/*/*
Beth captures her for that talk after Chloe and Daisy have been borne away by Tess to see the shops and the town.
"So-you and Hardy?" Beth says as she puts Lizzie down for the night. "Is Lucy disappointed?"
Ellie flushes a deep red and says, "No—and no. She hasn't even tried to chat him up."
"She's always been more talk than action," Beth says, "or she knew better than to poach on your territory."
"He's not my territory, Beth."
"I've seen the way he looks at you, Ell. It wouldn't take much to change that, I think."
She stares. "Don't be daft," she mutters with a nervous smile.
"He kissed you good-bye."
"Shocked him as much as it did everyone else, I suspect."
Beth glares. "Tell me," she says firmly.
Ellie sighs and tells her everything: the awkward end to her dinner date with Will, her dawning attraction to Hardy, the realization he's actually rather attractive, even her occasionally checking out his arse at work.
"So what's holding you back?" Beth asks, amused.
"Well...a signal he feels something similar."
Lizzie begins to fuss and Beth goes to her and says, "Alec Hardy kissed you good-bye today. I think that's what you detectives might call a clue."
*/*/*/*/*
The days pass more comfortably than expected, and Tess is friendly enough although there's an assessing air about her when she looks at Ellie. Daisy's still guarded around her mother and Ellie wonders what exactly happened during their last holiday.
She broaches the subject with Tess on a rare occasion when they're alone, the others having gone to the shops.
"Are things easier with Daisy?" she asks, feeling awkward, but she feels an unexpected stab of empathy for Tess. She knows what it's like to be at odds with the child you love more than life. "Is this holiday going better than the last one?"
"Dave and I were fighting that week," Tess says easily. "Daisy isn't used to that, that's all." She lifts an eyebrow. "I understand Alec kissed you, right in front of everybody."
Ellie flushes and Tess laughs.
"Well, I'm not surprised," she says with a shrug. "I could tell there was something between you the first time we met."
"There's nothing-"
"Maybe not yet!" Tess chuckles then becomes very serious as she leans forward. "I know Alec. But I don't know you." She shakes her head, giving Ellie a considering look then appears to come to a decision. "Do you want to know the first time I shagged him?" she asks, leaning conspiratorially closer.
Ellie's eyes pop wide. "What? No!"
Tess ignores her, smiling smugly. "We'd just closed a difficult case-the worst we'd ever worked at the time. It was almost as tough as Lisa's and Pippa's murders, and once we found him, it took three solid days of interrogation before the killer finally broke. Oh, God, Alec was magnificent, Ellie, you should have seen him! All fire and righteous indignation and pathos and empathy and utterly relentless, everything you want in a copper investigating a homicide and interrogating a suspect.
"He'd been watching me for months, you know. Longing looks and puppy eyes and awkward silences and even more awkward attempts to get me out for drinks or dinner or just to have a shag, I suppose, since Alec's not much for dating in the classic sense. It was both adorable and embarrassing as hell because—well, to be honest, I wasn't that interested. I mean, he was even skinnier than he is now and he didn't have a beard then. He was cute, don't get me wrong-all gangly legs and toothpick arms, even more prone to impatience and sudden bursts of anger, but not...exciting, know what I mean? There were many more traditionally handsome men on the force then and we were all young and mostly single so I really didn't have much time for my socially awkward partner, although his obvious crush was good for the ego and rather sweet. But then we caught that case..." She trails off, her eyes soft with memories as she slowly shakes her head.
"When everything was all said and done, and we had the confession and the suspect was in booking, Alec went back into that interrogation room for some reason, and I followed. Shagged him right there."
Ellie gasps and Tess chuckles a warm, husky laugh.
"Got a bit told off when they found out about it, but we were the heroes of the moment." There's a bitterness in the set of her mouth as she shakes her head. "That's forgotten soon enough," she says then sighs. "Should have known better. About Alec, I mean. I just wanted a one-time shag but he loves with everything he has; he just doesn't know how to show it."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because he looks at you almost the same way he used to look at me. If you're not interested, then you need to tell him. Just don't make the same mistake I did, and give in at a weak moment. That will just end badly for everyone."
*/*/*/*/*
Hardy spends his days working, clearing the cases that end up on his desk, formally asking Elaine to request access to some of the complete case files people have sent him, and going through the Livingstone case again. This time he frowns as he reads the corroborating witness statements and plots the statements against the locations and timelines told to them by the AlphaBetties.
There are no solid corroborating statements after Chumley's. All the witness statements use words like 'might' or 'think' or 'maybe' when asked if anyone had seen the group. Not surprising, he supposes as he flips through the pages again, since they were canvassing in the wrong part of town, and there's nothing to indicate the investigators ever realized it.
He scowls. Surely at some point in the two years before the confession one of the AlphaBetties would have let it slip they'd been in a pub. It had taken only a couple of interviews for them to tell him and Miller about it.
He picks up the phone and calls the Detective Inspector who had been in charge of the case.
From there he calls the lead Detective Sergeant and then several of the Detective Constables and uniforms who canvassed for witnesses or assisted in the search.
By the time he's called them all, his blood is singing. He doesn't really know what he's found, but he knows-knows-he's on to something, and he can't wait for Miller to get back.
He picks up the phone and makes five more calls, all identical, then sits back with a slightly cruel but satisfied smile and prepares himself to wait to see what happens next.
*/*/*/*/*
As she drives them home on Saturday, Ellie decides the trip was more successful than she had dared to hope, even if it had its strange moments. She grimaces as she remembers her conversation with Tess.
The car is quiet, the girls sleepy in the back seat with Lizzie cooing in her car seat beside them. Ellie glances in the mirror then exchanges a bittersweet smile with Beth. Their worlds will never be the way they used to be, but there are pleasures and happiness to be found in this new normal, and maybe room to take chances again.
The closer they get to Broadchurch the more she thinks about Hardy's kiss good-bye. It had lasted a touch too long to be strictly friendly but it was short enough that she knew he'd done it without thinking. The look of pure horror he'd had when he realized what he'd done bore that out.
She grins at the memory, her stomach fluttering, heat climbing in her cheeks. As surprising and short-lived as it was, it had rocked her more than the pleasant and extremely skilful kisses she'd shared with Will Seymour. Or maybe it just seems that way because it was so unexpected.
She shifts a little in her seat then glances at Beth, who's watching her with an amused half-smile. She makes a face and Beth laughs, and it reminds Ellie that Beth's still only just past thirty and far too young to look as worn down by life as she far too often does.
When they finally arrive in Broadchurch, Ellie first drops Chloe, Beth and Lizzie at their house, then drives Daisy home, and accepts when Daisy invites her to stay for a bite to eat.
She's filled with nervous anticipation as she follows Daisy to the door.
*/*/*/*/*
Hardy feels out-of-sorts all day on Saturday, probably because Miller didn't show up at his back door with wee Fred. He's restless so he spends the day at the station, cleaning up any paperwork still to be done on the small cases that landed on his desk during the week and wonders when or if his phone calls from Tuesday will bear any fruit. He sorts through the mail that arrived for him and is almost regretful that it's slowed to a trickle since it means Isabella is no longer making special trips to Broadchurch and he can't afford to lose anyone who almost enjoys his company. She has offered to help respond to it all once he's finally ready to do that.
When he can't dawdle at the station any longer, he picks up the small box that contains the small amount of mail that came in that week and goes home. Daisy and Miller and the others will be back sometime tonight and he's looking forward to seeing his daughter.
Having to see Miller on Monday, though, is a different matter. With luck, she will have forgotten all about his kiss good-bye, but if she hasn't, well, he'll apologize and hope it doesn't make things awkward for long. Besides, people do that all the time anyway, don't they? Kiss good-bye? He can still salvage some small sliver of pride...he just needs to make sure he's never so bloody stupid again.
He eats supper, washes dishes, then putters aimlessly round the house before he shakes his head and decides to go through the small pile of mail he brought home. There's not much: a couple dozen postcards, another dozen white envelopes, and a package, wrapped in brown paper and sealed tight with packing tape.
He takes his time, going through the postcards and letters before finally opening the package. He lifts the top from the flimsy cardboard box he's revealed and finds a book. A journal, actually, with a date that's twelve years in the past embossed on the cover.
He looks at the paper it had been wrapped in but there's only the station address typed on a label, and a postmark from a town in the north. He grabs a pen off the coffee table and uses it to lift the cover of the journal. His blood starts to sing when he sees the name 'Frankie' written in looping curls on the first page.
His head shoots up as the door opens and Daisy walks in followed by Miller.
"Miller-outstanding! Come look at this!" he says as he gets to his feet. He shoves the pen into her hand, ignoring her flabbergasted face as he scoops Daisy up in a tight hug. "Look at the first page, Miller!" He drops a kiss on Daisy's cheek and says, "Missed you, darling," as he sets her away from him. "Did you enjoy yourself? We have to make a run to the police station-will you be okay on your own for a bit?"
She looks a bit dazed as he spins round and claps Miller on the back, staggering her and making her drop the pen.
"Somebody somewhere is starting to panic, Miller!" he says and smiles a feral grin, eyes wide and shining.
Ellie deflates, her delicious anticipation during the drive home dissipating in an instant, leaving her a little bewildered and disappointed, but his excitement over the journal makes her curious. She retrieves the pen, lifts up the cover of the journal and gasps, spinning to stare at him.
"Come on," he says, practically bouncing on his feet, "let's pack it up and get it to SOCO!"
Daisy's face tightens with disgusted anger. "Choosing another dead girl over me?" she asks bitterly.
He stops, eyes going wide. "Of course not, darling," he says, "except this is evidence. The last time evidence was left laying around it didn't end well for anybody. Come with us—we won't be long."
"What if I don't want to go?" Ellie snaps.
"Oh, come on, Miller!" he wheedles and glances at his watch. "It's too late to pick up wee Fred, he'll be sleeping, and Tom's not back till tomorrow. We just need to get it to SOCO, have them make us a couple quick copies and we'll be back before you know it!"
"Hardy-"
"Dad-"
But he's already grabbed up the box, the journal and the wrapping paper and is herding both of them towards the door.
"Come on, come on, don't dawdle," he says, and he has them outside and by the car before Ellie and Daisy can manage to do more than make inarticulate protesting noises, and by then it's too late to do more than scowl and grumble-and get in the car.
*/*/*/*/*
Hardy-to Ellie's surprise and grudging admiration-cajoles SOCO into making them two copies immediately after they've taken the journal into evidence...even though it's evidence related to a closed case that wasn't even in their jurisdiction. She has to admit, the man can be persuasive when he needs to be.
They leave with two manila envelopes then stop at the chippies for take-away and go back to Hardy's where they set the envelopes aside while Daisy and Ellie eat fish and chips and Hardy scavenges some salad from the fridge.
He shrugs at Ellie's raised eyebrows and mutters, "Still need to be careful," before he turns his attention to Daisy. "Tell me about your holiday. What did you do?"
Daisy starts slowly but gains momentum and by the time they're finishing the last of their late night meal, she's in full flight and Hardy's watching her with a smile and a soft light in his eyes that Ellie seldom sees. Her heart clenches as she watches him and her disappointment at his initial greeting eases. To be fair, how was he supposed to know she was hoping for a different kind of greeting? It's not like she's ever showed him anything but friendly interest, and she's still not positive she wants to risk moving beyond that.
Daisy's yawning as they clean up from their meal and she goes upstairs once they're done, hugging Ellie and giving her father a kiss on the cheek before leaving them alone.
Ellie turns to Hardy, who's suddenly looking uncomfortable, and she gives him a questioning look.
"It's late," he says brusquely as he leads the way back to the living room. He picks up one of the manila envelopes and holds it out to her. "I'm sure you're anxious to get to sleep, too. We can compare notes on Monday."
She takes the envelope and says, "You're going to read it tonight, aren't you?"
He nods.
She heaves a mock-irritated sigh and settles on the sofa. "Well, come on, then."
He hesitates then relaxes and picks up his own envelope and sits beside her.
*/*/*/*/*
The journal's contents are written in the same swooping, curling letters as the name on the first page. Francesca didn't write every day, didn't write about what she did or where she went or what she wore or what she ate. What she did write about, however, in detail and at length, was her hatred for her mother, her thoughts about her friends, and her plans for all of them.
Ellie and Hardy finish reading about the same time, and both silently straighten the pages, put them neatly in the envelopes then lean back, heads resting against the sofa cushions.
"Well," Ellie says slowly, "Dottie wasn't exaggerating. Francesca really was...troubled."
"She wanted to murder her mother with help from her friends," Hardy says flatly. "I'd say she was a wee bit more than 'troubled'."
She gives him a sad look. "What now?"
He sighs. "Now we go back to Archie."
They sit in silence for another moment, but Ellie knows it really is time for her to go. As usual, he walks her outside to the back gate.
She has her hand on the latch when he clears his throat and says, "Miller-"
There's something in his voice that makes her stomach flutter and she turns to look at him, tall and lanky, half in moonlight and half in shadows, and the flutter gets stronger.
He looks at her, her dark eyes luminous in the moonlight, hair a riot of curls now she's taken out the pins she uses to hold it back. She looks...beautiful and he wistfully wishes he was less fucked up, wishes he knew what to do so she'd smile at him the way she'd smiled at Will, wishes he knew what to say that would salvage their relationship from whatever damage he'd done when he'd kissed her good-bye a week ago.
Ellie realizes he's trying to figure out a way to apologize for the kiss-he's only ever this hesitant when it's something personal-and she realizes with absolute certainty that she doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't want him to take it back or say it was a mistake or an accident or whatever other lame excuse he's got churning round in that mussed up head of his.
He moves to speak and she forestalls him by stepping closer, going up on tiptoe and pressing a kiss against his half-opened mouth that lasts a little too long to be strictly friendly.
She takes a half-step away so she can see his face.
She bites back a laugh at his wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare, and says, "You kissed me good-bye. People do that, even you, I suppose. People also kiss good-night."
"...right..."
He sounds so confused, she does laugh and he rolls his eyes. But he looks so uncertain in the moonlight and shadow, hair falling over his forehead, that she finally gives in to temptation and brushes it away from his eyes. His eyes close at the touch of her fingers then open again, and she doesn't need to see them in the daylight to recognize the yearning that's in them.
She smiles a little, then tilts her head in invitation and this time they meet in the middle.
His lips are warm and soft and tentative as they move against hers and she sighs against his mouth as he lightly rests his hands at her waist.
There's something innocent in the moment, new and precious, and she feels a tremble in his hands that makes her melt. She has the urge to throw caution to the wind, to change the nature of the moment to something hot and fiery and much less innocent, but she holds back as does he.
They haven't gone too far. They can still step back, agree this was a mistake and pretend it's not too late to go back to the way things have always been. His hands flex a little against her and her heart speeds up, and she realizes it's been too late for a long time now.
The kiss ends, and they take a couple steps away from each other. They're silent, eyes clinging, as she puts her slightly shaking hand on the gate and unlatches it. The sound seems to shatter the silence and brings them back down to earth.
He clears his throat. "Good-night, Miller," he says, his Scottish burr low and husky and she shivers as it whispers down her spine.
She opens the gate and smiles. "Good-night, Hardy," she says and slips away.
*/*/*/*/*