"Chapter 8"

It was the next day before Beth decided to try to contact Ellie. It had been so long since she had even talked aloud about her old friend that she was afraid now that maybe, just maybe, Ellie's naturally forgiving heart had hardened towards her. Nonetheless, Beth kicked herself into action. She had never been one to simply sit and do nothing; action, that was what she understood and it was what kept her sane.

Ellie's number flashed brightly on the screen of her phone. She sighed. She had never deleted the number, although she'd been tempted to several times, which was what was confusing her now. Why hadn't she deleted it?

She tapped the call button before she could lose her nerve. Before she could be tempted to throw the phone across the room and watch in satisfaction as it shattered against the wall.

The phone rang three times before it picked up, and even then there was a slight hesitation on the other end. Finally, though: "Beth?"

Ellie's voice was rough and tired, clearly from a lack of sleep; Beth thought she heard the sound of a man speaking in the background, Scottish, so she quickly focused again only on her old friend. "Ellie." She swallowed, suddenly unsure of what to say or what to do. "I, um—I… Mark and Chloe, they, uh, finally talked some sense into me last night…" Silence on the other end. "Ellie?"

"I'm still here." Her voice was flat; not from anger, Beth hoped.

"Well, I'm just calling because I- I want to apologize to you. And the boys. Properly, I mean, not just over the phone, yeah? So—"

"I'll be home in about five hours," Ellie interrupted, still in that awful flat voice. She sounded like she was struggling with sudden tears. "I'll give you a ring when I get there, and you can come over." And then she hung up without another word.

Astonished, Beth looked down at the phone in her hand. Ellie had never hung up on her before. It couldn't have been what she had said, could it? She was seized by the fear that maybe it was too late to make amends; maybe Ellie had had enough of Beth's hatred of her.

But if that was the case, why was it it sounded like Ellie had been crying before she'd answered her phone?

0000000

John had left to find some coffee, feeling like both he and Ellie could use some having been awake for so long. They had stayed for as long as they could at the hospital the previous night, but eventually the nurses had forced them to leave. Alec was stable enough, they had said. They'd even said that he could wake up sometime today. So Ellie had picked up her boys from Olly's and filled them in with what was happening and had spent a sleepless night in her living room. Luckily it was a school day so Tom would be there for most of the day, and she would only have to worry about Fred.

She'd left early for the hospital, and so had been there for a while before her phone rang.

Having ended the call, Ellie sighed and hung her head, trying to ignore her exhaustion. She hadn't meant to be so short to Beth, she really hadn't, but hearing her old friend call her up now was entirely too painful and ironic and she hadn't wanted to completely lose it over the phone and end up a sobbing and blubbering mess. No way would Beth want to deal with that.

True to what the nurses had stated, Alec was still stable when she'd come in although still very much unconscious. Some of the machinery and such had been taken away during the night so it wasn't quite so crowded or overwhelming, and his heartbeat had leveled out a little as well. He was still hooked up to oxygen.

'He's stubborn,' the doctor had said just an hour earlier. 'He's already bouncing back a little. Most patients take a couple of days to do that.'

Ellie could have told him that, anyway, since she had seen Alec get up the day after his last heart attack and continue working on Danny's case.

John handing her a cup of steaming coffee broke her away from her thoughts, and she muttered a quiet thanks before taking a sip. The brew was bitter—he hadn't put anything in it—and she almost a made a face but knew that she needed the caffeine. She'd go look for some sugar to put in it later. Together they sat in silence, just as they had the day before; and then finally John spoke up.

"I take it you two argued."

Ellie nodded, taking another drink. "I don't know how it happened," she confessed, still honestly confused how she and Alec had come to fighting that morning. "One minute we were fine—great even—and then suddenly we're arguing and hurling insults at one another." She sighed. "And then he said Beth was right to stay away from me."

John's mouth thinned. "Low blow," he said, understanding what hurt that accusation must have caused.

"He's like that, though," she said, shaking her head. "When he's frustrated he lashes out."

"He didn't when I knew him."

She looked over at John, curious. "What was he like, then? Before he arrested you?"

John shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. For a long moment he was silent, clearly looking at past memories. "Quiet. Shy. He was the bookworm, which always made others laugh, 'cos I was the total opposite. But he knew his manners and was a lot less likely to talk back than I was. When he lost his temper, though…" He chuckled to himself.

"Explosive?" Ellie asked, a mite dryly. She had, after all, been the focus of his temper more than once.

"Very. One of the few traits he inherited from his dad. He didn't really lose it much, though, he'd let it build up first. I heard stories from the other lads in the police force that they were all very afraid of pissing him off." He took a drink before frowning. "He was sarcastic but he wasn't bitter, not like he is now." He sighed, shifting again. "I dunno. Sometimes I have to wonder why God gives us the lives that he does."

She hadn't thought that he believed. She looked at him quietly for a moment, then leaned forward. "Why did you come here, John? Why come find Alec if you have family?"

He was silent again for a long moment, looking down at the coffee in his cup. "My family comes from a very Presbyterian family. Raised in the church, brought up on the Bible. We had rules, see, in our family. No cussing. No premarital sex. No drinking. And after you were married no divorcing." He caught Ellie's understanding nod. "And of course I told you all about what happened between me and Freya. When I got out of jail, I went to my parents first. Dad had died, Ellie, while I was locked up. Mum hadn't told me. She told me I couldn't stay under her roof anymore. Left me standing out in the rain."

Ellie raised a hand to her mouth, shocked and hurt on his behalf. "That's awful."

He managed a small, bitter smile. "Guess I should have realized she wouldn't want a murderer living under her roof."

"But that doesn't make it right!" It was refreshing now to find herself feeling for someone else's plight, refreshing to know that she could be angry on someone's behalf. It made her feel like her old self a little bit.

He shook his head. "It doesn't. But it is what it is. I was hoping that Alec wouldn't be quite as set off like Mum was."

Which hadn't happened. "He told me once, during Danny's case… 'Anybody is capable of murderer, given the right circumstances.' I always thought that was just one of his usual depressing shit pieces of philosophy."

Her last comment garnered a genuine grin. "I think I like you, Ellie Miller." He took one last swig of his coffee, finishing it off, and threw it in the trash. "You made sure to always tell him off, though?"

"Always."

"Good." He stood again. "Gotta go take a piss. Be right back."

She found herself smiling a little as she sat back in her own seat. She and John really hadn't talked much over the past couple of days but she enjoyed it when they did. He was very real, what you saw was what you got. It was refreshing, too, having company that wasn't automatically judging or disbelieving. Or even quite like Alec, who was always dour.

At that moment his fingers twitched, as if in response to her thoughts, and she straightened. Trust John's timing to be completely wrong! Quietly she leaned over the bed and grabbed hold of his hand again, hoping maybe that would help him surface. His skin was like ice. His eyelashes fluttered as he suddenly grimaced, and slowly he clawed his way to consciousness. It took him a second to focus on her.

"Hey," he croaked.

Ellie placed a bag of grapes beside him, wanting to smack him. "This time, you bloody wanker," she told him with dangerous sweetness, "I bought the ones with seeds."

A rough, dusty chuckle was her answer, and then he grimaced again.

"What's wrong?" Ellie wanted to kick herself for the question (what wasn't wrong now?) but she hoped he would take it as meant.

He did. "Throat's dry."

The doctor had told her and John that it would be. Wordlessly she reached for the glass of water they'd kept for this reason.

When finally his thirst was sated he fell back against the bed again with a low groan. He was breathing too heavily. "How bad?"

She should have known he would ask that, perceptive as he was, but she was caught off-guard, unprepared for the icy hand that suddenly started to squeeze her by the throat. She could only blink stupidly at him as she struggled to find words.

How did you explain to someone that they were dying?

He picked up on it. One eyebrow quirked. "That bad?"

She swallowed hard, answer enough.

He laughed again, that awful ironic little laugh. "How long?" She didn't have to ask what he meant.

How was he taking this so calmly? She shook her head. "They don't know. It could be days. It could be tomorrow. It could be a couple weeks. Your heart's run itself down."

"I don't want to stay here." His words weren't so much a request as a plea. His barriers had dropped slightly; without such tight control he looked very vulnerable, and suddenly very young. "Please."

She was silent for a long moment, looking at him. She wanted to say that it was best if he stayed in the hospital, where he could be taken care of; it was on the tip of her tongue to say so, but found herself unable to say it. "On one condition."

He seemed relieved that she wouldn't fight him. "What?"

"You have to apologize to John first."

0000000

When Beth and Mark made their way over to Ellie's house, it seemed like the latter had barely arrived there before them. She was busy picking things up and cleaning off the table, wiping things in the kitchen down. Beth frowned. Was it that bad by herself, without Joe there to help clean things up?

"I, uh- I'm sorry about the mess," Ellie said, as if in response to Beth's thoughts. She was brimming with nervous energy, unable to stand still. "I, um- I haven't been home much the past couple of days."

"Saw you heading to the hospital," Mark said quietly.

She turned to look at them fully. She looked exhausted, her hair hastily pulled back and un-brushed and deep circles under her eyes. She looked, Beth realized suddenly, like she had during Danny's case. "Yeah," she said softly, blinking, "yeah, I was."

"Is everything alright? It's not-?"

"No, Tom and Fred are fine," she cut in hastily. "They're both fine. Tom should be heading home soon, actually…" But then she trailed off as her thoughtless sentence registered for what it would seem like for the couple standing across from her. Danny should have been walking home with Tom.

"Who is then?" Beth asked, more to break the awful silence than anything.

Ellie paused, as if unsure whether she should tell them. "Alec Hardy."

Beth frowned. Mark's face closed off: it was well known that he held no love for Alec for how he had been treated during Danny's case. "I didn't even know he was still here."

Ellie looked at them in astonishment. "He didn't have anywhere else to go."

"So what's wrong?" Beth asked impatiently, because she wanted to get this over with quickly.

"He had a heart attack." Ellie seated herself at the table, and wordlessly gestured for them to do the same.

"Well… not a bad one, right?" Beth asked, as brightly as she could. She was sure her attempt was ghastly, and she wondered why Ellie cared at all for the gruff, unhappy former DI. "At least he's still alive."

Ellie flinched, and Beth felt her stomach drop. Oh no. Her old friend's fingers were shaking, and she clasped them together. "He's dying, Beth."

The Latimers froze. Mark's slightly-sneering expression when hearing Alec's name mentioned melted into flabbergasted astonishment. For a long moment none of them moved.

"But—he was fine during Danny's case," Beth protested. "He—how could he be dying?"

"Heart arrhythmia. A bad case of it. A couple of days before he arres- before he solved Danny's case, he was in the hospital. He'd had a heart attack chasing a suspect. A bad one. The doctors told me he went into cardiac arrest before reaching the hospital. The bloody idiot woke up the following morning an discharged himself."

Beth's jaw dropped. Mark blinked. "He did what?"

Ellie nodded. "Came into work and continued the case as if he wasn't still slurring half his words and walking half-dead. Still as sharp as ever, though."

Beth shook her head wonderingly. "He discharged himself…" she whispered, a new horrified respect lacing her tone.

Ellie's dark eyes were solemn. "He needed to see that case through. He told me, 'I can't let the family down'. Neither of us felt we could."

Beth couldn't meet her gaze. "I'm still angry," she confessed quietly. "And I still want to ask you how you didn't know—" Both of them flinched at the same time, but she stubbornly pressed on. "But you were working on solving Danny's murder. I forgot about that. You still brought my boy justice."

"Not me." Ellie was clearly fighting back tears; compulsively she moved forward, as if to lay her hands on top of Beth's like they used to. "I didn't know anything until Alec told me."

"You still worked on it," Mark interjected, hoping his wife wouldn't close up again at Ellie's confession. "Every day. You were there, doing your job. And uh—" He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "We took a while to think straight, but we eventually remembered that you aren't one to keep secrets like that. You would've done something about our husband's actions before it could- before anything happened."

Something in Ellie's posture dropped away, as if she didn't have to pretend that she was strong anymore. Some of the oppressive atmosphere dissipated. "I should have known," she whispered.

Beth swallowed, her own eyes bright. "We all should have."