"Chapter 3"
Quietly as possible Ellie opened the front door of her house, holding it open for John. With a nod of thanks he stepped through, shaking the water from his hair as he went. It was now late afternoon and the skies had decided to let loose, a heavy chilling downpour that signified that winter was on their doorstep. Ellie looked behind her out at the abandoned street and shut the door behind her.
Tom was seated at the kitchen table finishing his homework, and stiffened when seeing the strange man who entered the room ahead of his mother. "Who're you?"
"Tom!" Ellie stopped where she was, appalled. "I did teach you manners!"
He blushed, chagrined. "Sorry," he mumbled, swallowing nervously. His pencil went tap-tap against his paper before he managed to gain enough courage to look back up.
Ellie removed her coat. "This is John, Tom," she said. "John, this is my oldest. Tom."
John grinned in his friendliest manner and extended a hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Tom."
The boy simply looked at him suspiciously. Ellie sighed, wondering what she'd been thinking by allowing John to come home with her. He had nowhere to go at the moment, no hotel room set up, and when it started to rain Ellie had invited him to her home to wait the weather out. She would go with him to the Traders and talk with Becca Fisher. Maybe it was simply the fact that she had told him her story, about Danny Latimer's murder and the following weeks of investigation and her husband's involvement, and he had not looked at her with the accusing or disturbed stares others had given her. Alec, John, and Paul were the few who did not. They were the few who actually believed she had had no knowledge of Joe's actions.
It hurt, being on the receiving end of so much ridicule and slander. She wondered sometimes, half-asleep and drifting in thought, if this was what Alec had faced after the disastrous Sandbrook case. She knew she would never ask him.
"Go ahead and have a seat in the living room, John," she said quietly. "I'll just have a word with Tom." She could hear Fred stirring where he was in his playpen hearing his mother. He would want something to eat soon.
She waited until her guest had left before she seated herself across from her son. "Tom, sweetheart—"
"Are you replacing Dad?" he asked roughly, interrupting her before she could start.
She was too shocked to be angry; she could only stare at him in dumbstruck horror for a moment before she was able to answer. "No. God, no, Tom, I would never—" She swallowed down a sudden wave of tears, thoroughly shaken by his question. Did he really think so little of her? "John simply doesn't have anywhere to go for the moment. I couldn't leave him out in the rain, now, could I?"
He seemed to realize too late the mistake he'd made. He looked back down at his paper, as vulnerable now as he'd been wary a few seconds before. "It's just… you don't bring strange men to our house…"
Tom was too young to worry about this sort of stuff. Ellie felt her heart clench realizing just how much Tom had grown in the past few months. She reached and grabbed his hands in her own. "Tom, there is nothing going on. Nothing at all. John is here just for a couple hours, then he'll be on his way."
Her words reassured him a bit. He nervously tapped his paper again. "Guess I should apologize to him," he mumbled. Ellie nodded silently. She remained where she was as he stood and went into the living room, stirring only when she heard Fred calling for her.
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Alec waited until his normal time to go for a walk although he had been full of nervous energy all day. It had taken all he had to not walk in circles around the flat and wear himself out. The rain had helped stave off his urge to leave, finally stopping about an hour after it had begun. He put his coat on and left, looking to see that there would be no one on the street who would want to talk to him first.
Today, he didn't think about where he would go, still thinking about Miller's visit earlier that morning. Now that he had calmed he felt a bit sorry that he had slammed the door on her, and was tempted to give her a ring to apologize, but ultimately decided that he simply didn't want her company tonight.
Inexplicably his wayward footsteps took him to the last place he expected and wanted to be—St. Andrews. The doors of the ancient church hung open in silent invitation, calling passing people into its sanctuary.
Alec snorted. If there was one thing a church did not offer, it was sanctuary. He sighed—his feet had led him here. Might as well see why.
The doors led almost straight into the main sanctorum, as wide and yawning as ever; the vicar, however, was nowhere in sight. Slowly he made his way down the inner aisle between the pews, chewing at the inside of his cheek. It was simply strange to be in a church, any church at all; it took all he had not to sneer up at the altar, or the massive stain-glass window depicting Christ's ascension.
People call You loving. I think You're just cruel.
"Can I help you?"
Paul Coates's voice made him turn; the vicar was near his office door, clearly having heard Alec's footsteps. For a moment Paul allowed his surprise to show seeing him there but very quickly schooled his expression into polite inquiry. "Is everything alright?"
Alec nearly barked a biting laugh but managed to tamp down on it; instead he smiled, sharp as a knife, and it was answer enough. Paul frowned.
"Is it Ellie?"
Why would it be Ellie? Taken aback by the inquiry, Alec was silent for a long moment, deciding whether he should bother answering or not. Largely he had no wish to talk to Paul about anything, especially not about John; but likewise there was a small part of him, the part that had urged him to confess the truth about Sandbrook, that simply didn't want to keep it to himself anymore.
And Paul understood other peoples' problems, Alec had to begrudgingly admit.
"It's a friend." Well, that was decided for him. Very much like that night with Maggie and Olly at the Echo his mouth had run away with him again. "An old friend,' he corrected himself automatically.
Paul nodded. "John O'Bailey, yes? I met him at the café with Ellie."
So very like Miller, to invite a stranger to tea. Alec nearly rolled his eyes but managed to restrain himself.
Paul spoke when he didn't. "Was a friend? What happened?"
"I arrested him." There, he thought darkly. Work out what to say to that.
It took a moment for the vicar to find words. "Well, it doesn't seem like he holds any ill-will against you if he's come here."
"He murdered his wife."
Paul blinked, taken aback; but with the confession he had an inkling of understanding. "And now you feel repelled by him." Thinking about it, it wasn't too surprising with Alec's job being to put away murderers.
"Shouldn't I be?" Alec retorted. "Aren't you Christians always the ones going on about 'thou shalt not murder'?"
Paul nodded slowly, unable to deny it. "Yes, we are," he answered quietly. "But we also are taught to forgive those who ask to be forgiven."
"Easier said than done," Alec muttered darkly.
Paul heard him. "You know, Paul the Apostle was once a man named Saul. He was as anti-Christian as you could get, and made it his job to murder as many Christians as he could—"
"And then he was visited by God while on the road and he repented," Alec finished tiredly, unimpressed. He had heard his mother tell him that story several times. "I know."
Paul looked at him appraisingly. "I think you're hiding some Christian background yourself."
"Please." Alec shook his head, walking back down the aisle. He passed the vicar by without another word, but Paul's quiet words as he left nearly made him pause.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways, you know. Maybe your friend is here for a reason."
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Ellie was just leaving the Traders when she saw a familiar blue van pull up onto the opposite side of the street. Her stomach clenched. Luckily she was wearing a darker coat tonight and she could blend into the shadows a little bit better as she watched the door open and Mark Latimer stepped out. He barely looked in her direction, barely looked at the Traders at all, but that was fine with Ellie; she had no wish to be glared at.
She had seen very little of the Latimer family since Joe was arrested. Beth still would not forgive her, even though Ellie had sent her one message explaining everything. Mark, too, was still angry but if he did ever catch sight of Ellie he merely ignored her and went on his way.
She waited until he had gone into the building, clearly to fix some plumbing that had gone wrong, before she went on her way. For a moment she hesitated, unsure, and then she found herself going in the opposite direction of her house.
She was going to talk with Alec by herself. Maybe without John there he would listen to her.
When she knocked on his door, it took him a moment to answer. When he did the door opened much slower than it had that morning and he leaned tiredly against the doorframe. "Miller."
"Alec." She was silent for a moment, nervous, then spoke again. "Look, I just wanted to apologize about this morning. I didn't know about what John did, if I'd known I wouldn't have handled it like I did—"
"Just get inside, Miller," he interrupted her shortly, stepping aside so she could. When the door was closed again, however, he dropped whatever guard he'd had standing. He looked now exhausted and vulnerable. He spoke up before she could. "Don't apologize. You didn't know."
Ellie hesitated, then nodded slowly, recognizing his own apology in his words. Together they made their way to the small kitchen. He picked up an official-looking paper from the table and hastily stuck it folded into his pocket before turning to her again. "Tea?"
She hesitated, tempted for a moment to decline (she had only planned to apologize, after all) but she found herself speaking before she could. "Why not?" She seated herself at the table as he worked, silently taking the sight of him in. Definitely thinner than before. His crisp white shirt was rumpled like he'd taken a nap in it earlier. He had not touched his beard. His movements were just a little bit slower, a bit too careful.
"Are you okay?" She repeated her question from earlier.
He paused for a moment; his jaw clenched, working slightly. He turned to look at her. "No."
"Do you need to see a doctor?"
"No."
"Alec—"
He placed her cup of tea down with more force than was necessary. "I bloody well said no, Miller!"
But she had never been one to simply lay back and let him have a go at her. "I asked you a legitimate question, so do not bite my head off!" she retorted. "You look ill, Alec, and you can't deny it! God, have you had any recovery since the close of the case?"
He turned away, tight-lipped. It was all the answer she needed. She went silent, taking a sip of her tea. Slowly, groaning slightly as he did, he sat across from her. For a long moment they simply sat in silence, then Alec slowly looked over at her.
"Thank you for coming, Miller."
She set her cup down. "Yes, well, couldn't leave you here by yourself all the time, could I?" She was silent again for a moment. "John told me what he did."
He snorted, but there was no scorn in his eyes, only exhaustion. "Did he."
She nodded. "He misses you, sir. He wants to catch up."
He shook his head. "Miller, your husband killed somebody," he said quietly; not to hurt, but simply to make a point. "How is John any different?"
She hesitated. Shook her head again. "I… I don't know," she admitted. "But he doesn't… Joe was doing so many things that were wrong, not just his murdering Danny. John hasn't. He warned his wife not to do anything, and she did anyway. It doesn't make it right, what he did. But it makes it a little more understandable."
"Miller, I grew up with him. He was my best friend. I had dinner over at their home at least once a week." Alec shifted; his tea was untouched. She could tell it was costing him a lot to tell her this. "And then he killed her. Just killed her."
Ellie was very still for a moment. She thought she could understand both John and Alec, and their respective opinions. "He is alone here, though, Alec."
He sighed—and surprised her when he gently laid his fingers on top of her own. "If everyone in the world had your heart, Miller…"