"Chapter 2"
When John O'Bailey traveled his slow way to Broadchurch, he had not expected to have so much trouble. The journey itself took little time but stepping foot within its borders had started his troubles, first and foremost the fact that no matter where he went he could find no information on Alec Hardy.
He didn't know why. He had kept up with the news even while in prison, always following his friend's progress as best he could, and knew that it was likely that Alec would still be here. Even if he wasn't, there should have been at least one person who could tell him where he had gone. He had the suspicion that for some reason the town was, in some odd way, protecting its Scottish resident from prying eyes. Even the police department, when he visited, told him that Alec was "not there" and shooed him away.
Then as he'd left he managed to come across a woman walking the opposite direction, and knew as soon as he mentioned Alec's name that she knew him.
The woman looked at him warily. "I know him, yeah," she said, nodding. "He's—not one for visitors, though."
John didn't hesitate. "I'm an old friend of his," he explained. "John O'Bailey. I've been looking for him. I'd appreciate it, Miss-?"
"Ellie," she supplied quietly, hearing his question.
He nodded. "Ellie. I'd appreciate it if you could take me to meet him."
Again she hesitated, and again John had the peculiar sense of wary protection, which only confused him more. What were these people hiding? Finally, though: "C'mon," she sighed, giving in, "He'll be on the other side of town." She muttered to herself a moment, then drew out her phone and dialed a number. One ring later the call was picked up, loud enough for John to hear.
"What?"
Ellie scowled. "Again with the manners," she admonished him—Alec, John realized.
"It's eight in the bloody morning, Miller," came the retort. "I barely know the word 'manners' until noon."
"Ha ha," Ellie said sarcastically. "Look, I'm coming over. Should be there within thirty minutes."
"Miller—"
"I want you dressed and presentable when I get there," she interrupted. John looked at her in open surprise and admiration at her no-nonsense tone. "Thirty minutes." When all she received was silence on the opposite end she rolled her eyes. "Just say yes, sir."
"Yes," came the quiet reply finally. John smiled to himself.
"Good." Ellie disconnected the call and pocketed the phone. "Stubborn git," she muttered, but it was without bite.
"Have you known Alec long?" John asked curiously. They continued on their way, heading down the main street and along shops.
She shook her head. "Only a few months. It feels longer than that though, sometimes." She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, then: "Sometimes I feel like I don't know him at all." But before he could ask her what she meant she shook herself and looked up at him with a tight, if genuine, smile. "Well, enough about me. What about you? How long have you known him for?"
"Since—forever, I guess," John said with a shrug. "We met when we were fifteen. Graduated together."
"Are you a cop too?"
He snorted. "Me? Please. Alec was the smarts of the two of us. I wouldn't have had the patience for all that schooling."
"Ellie!"
The shout behind them made Ellie turn in surprise, her expression closing off. "Chloe," she said, surprised. John watched a girl of about sixteen, short with long blonde hair, come up from one of the shops. She barely glanced at John as she came up, focused entirely on Ellie.
"Ellie, would you—I mean, you could try to get ahold of my mum again," she said a little bit shamefully, as if she thought she were treading dangerous waters.
Ellie shook her head. "No."
"But—"
"No, Chloe, and that's final. She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm sorry, but I've done all I can. It's up to her now."
Chloe looked so disheartened that John almost, almost, asked what was wrong, but his mother had raised him better than that and so he held his tongue. He merely watched as the girl finally nodded slightly, ducking her head, and walked away. Ellie looked back at her sadly, then turned away herself and continued on her way. An uncomfortable silence had fallen between the two of them, one he wasn't sure how to break.
He had learned while in jail, after all, that sometimes it was better if you said nothing at all. It made him sad, though, to see that Ellie looked so unhappy; she was the sort of person whose companions were affected by her moods.
He wondered again what her story with Alec was. Her phone conversation with him had not seemed the most—genial of such, but maybe that was just their way. He didn't recall hearing Alec so blunt before, and Ellie had bossed him like a weary mother did her son.
"He lives here?" he blurted; they had finally reached a small flat, not run-down but certainly not part of the higher end of town. Ellie rolled her eyes as she approached the door, reaching up to knock. "It took me four weeks to get him to move out of that hotel room," she said in poor explanation.
Hotel room?
"We're here, Alec," Ellie called through the closed door, reaching up to knock again—
Before her hand could make contact the door swung open; John stayed back a few feet, nervous, as his old best friend stepped in view and he couldn't help but gasp softly when seeing him.
What had happened to the Alec Hardy he remembered? He recalled a healthy, well-groomed, lively man his own age, always quick to smile even if he didn't talk much. This unkempt, bedraggled mess at the door couldn't be Alec.
"Bloody hell, you're impatient, Miller."
"Good morning to you, too," Ellie retorted. Then she paused, her voice suddenly softening with concern. "You alright?"
But she had lost his attention after her first sentence because at that moment Alec looked over shoulder and caught sight of John standing a few feet and abruptly he froze, a frankly dangerous snarl forming on his face.
"You."
The voice had even changed, roughening and deepening slightly. John remembered that look from years ago, and suddenly understood that, in Alec's eyes, nothing had changed. He nodded. "Me."
"Leave. Now."
Ellie stiffened. "What? What for god's sake, sir—"
He looked back at her, anger lighting his expression, and Ellie suddenly wanted to step away. It wasn't often that she ever saw him truly angry. "Turn around," he growled, "and leave. Take him with you."
"Alec—"
The slamming of the door was her answer, and she reflexively sprang back before it could shut on her toes. Stunned, she turned back to John. There was a suspicion starting to burn in her eyes that made him uneasy.
"How," she began slowly, and very very carefully, "did you say you know Alec Hardy again?"
0000000
Trembling, Alec leaned against the door, listening for the tell-tale sounds of when Miller and her company would move away. He swallowed hard, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he clenched and unclenched his hands.
He couldn't deal with this. He'd dealt with enough over the past few months, he didn't need or want any more—especially not an old friend who he never wanted to see again. He didn't hate John, no, he never could hate him…
But killing your own wife…
He suddenly felt twenty-five again, learning of Freya O'Bailey's murder. Having to arrest John for it. With it came the old sickening mix of anger and disgust, the utter confusion of why someone could willingly kill someone else.
Miller was finally gone; he was vaguely pleased to note that his reaction had garnered some suspicion. Now maybe John would tell her what he had done that had landed him in prison. Dear god, Miller didn't need to put up with any of this either, she'd had enough to deal with. Part of him in that moment wanted to call her back, drag her through the doorway and explain everything to her about his history with John O'Bailey and why the man was seeking him out now. But he had never been one to fly on whims of fancy and he merely stayed where he was, swallowing down his sudden panic.
Slamming that door had been the coward's way out, in several ways. Let Miller think it was merely his temper and being rude. But it had allowed him to escape answering her question.
When finally his heart rate leveled out to a manageable pace he pushed off the wall, walking unsteadily farther into his flat and trying to ignore the opened letters that were spread out on his small kitchen table.
Letters from the latest runs of tests.
'Ah you bloody doctors. It's always, 'Do as I say or you'll end up dead'.'
0000000
John hesitated telling her anything, but eventually realized he owed her the explanation. He had made Alec go off on her. "I didn't think he'd be like that," he said quietly, nursing a coffee.
She snorted. "He's been like that since I've known him. Honestly, it's riding through his fits that's easy now."
John managed a grin. "He always did have a temper on him."
Ellie suddenly straightened. "Paul!"
Surprised by the sudden change in conversation, John frowned, looking over his shoulder and found a young blonde-haired man walking into the small café they had taken refuge in. He was wearing the collar of a vicar, kept visible above the open lapels of his blue coat. Spotting Ellie, he stopped by their table with a warm, if tired, smile.
"Ellie. I'm glad to see you still here."
She smiled weakly. "Yeah. Ah, have you met John?" She gestured to her company nervously, her fingers still on her cup clenching slightly. "He's just come in from Scotland."
John stood. "John O'Bailey. Pleasure."
"Likewise." The vicar shook his proffered hand. "Paul Coates." He looked back at Ellie, a wry grin twitching at his mouth. "So, we have another Scot then. Hope you enjoy your stay, Mr. O'Bailey." He gave Ellie a little bow. "I hope to see you in church again, Ellie. It's a pleasure having you and your boys there."
"We'll try, Paul." Ellie took a drink of her coffee. "How is the insomnia?"
Paul spread his hands a little, helplessly. "The same. The Lord must think I need more time to read His word." His dry sarcasm made John grin behind his hand. "Well, I'll leave you two to your drinks. I'll see you later."
Paul left, and John turned to Ellie with a raised brow. "Still here?"
Ellie paused, fingers ticking restlessly now. For a long moment she didn't say anything, but then finally she sighed. "There's something about myself I haven't mentioned yet…"