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Green Grapes
Ellie
Idiot. Knob. Wanker. There weren’t enough words in the English language to call the stupid, half-arsed fool that was her DI, Ellie thought. Heart arrhythmia. He could have died. He almost did.
A shiver ran through her as the scenes from a few hours before replayed itself in her head like a film stuck on the same scene. Moments had stretched to an eternity. Ellie remembered how he had laid on the ground, his dark eyes wide in panic and pain. He had clawed at his neck like an animal, struggling to breathe while she sat by his side, unable to help and not knowing anything about what was wrong. She could still see some scratch marks beneath the scruff on his throat. At first, she thought he had been hurt by their suspect in one way or another – a knife, maybe - but there were no visible injuries. Her fingers had shaken with terror as she searched for a cause, always expecting to find them sticky with his blood. But nothing. No blood. No wound or anything. Heart problems. Ellie seethed.
The pallor of his sunken cheeks matched the white hospital sheets, a nasal cannula providing oxygen to his still unconscious form, wires attached to his chest to monitor his heartbeat, an IV drip administering some kind of medication. They had dressed him in one of those hideous hospital gowns that had ‘hospital property’ stamped all over it in colourful writing. Ellie idly wondered who’d nick such an ugly piece of clothing that it had to be marked in such a way.
She really should not be here, sitting at his bedside still wearing her coat, waiting for him to wake up and maybe it was just an easy way to stall the inevitable or to hide from Jenkinson. Because that was what she should have done - reported the incident to the Chief Super, let her know the SIO on their ongoing murder investigation was taken ill and had frankly been unfit for duty the whole time. Protocol.
It wasn’t about protocol though. Not this time. It was about him, about the tiny shred of loyalty that had lodged itself in her heart and would not let her abandon him or rat him out. It felt like betrayal. At the same time not telling Jenkinson felt like she was betraying her as well, so Ellie had compromised – she would not cover for him but she would not seek out their chief Super. She sat by his bedside, waiting for him to wake. Not because she was worried about the infuriating bastard but so she could give him the bollocking of a lifetime for not telling her about his heart condition and sprinting after a suspect knowing it might kill him. The utter fool.
It seemed an eternity had passed when his eyelids fluttered, a groan leaving his chapped lips. Ellie’s fingers twitched instinctively, wanting to reach for the cup of water by his bedside but she remembered her anger last minute and instead tossed the bag of grapes onto his bed in exasperation.
It had taken her hours to carefully build up that ire, stoking it constantly while she paced the waiting room. Ellie had not slept at all and it was beginning to show in the twitching of her leg and the anxious fiddling of her hands in her lap. Her energy reserves were mostly depleted with the investigation dragging on for almost two months and the only thing keeping her upright after more than 24 hours awake was the insane amount of tea she had drunk in the last hours. And her temper.
—
Alec
Bright lights. A steady beeping. The caustic smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. Alec groaned as the room slowly came into focus. His whole body hurt as if he had gotten run over by a tractor or maybe one of these bloody boats. Hospital. His memory was still a bit blurry but he remembered the pain, like iron chains around his ribcage. His heart had beaten much too fast, he had felt it pounding against his ribs and then suddenly he couldn’t breathe anymore. After that everything was black. Please no. He had had an attack while he was out with Miller. He remembered the chase, the boat yard. Him collapsing and Miller’s face so close to his own. She had said something but he could not recall the words.
She was still here. He could just make out her wild curls as he slowly turned his head. Something got tossed onto his bed rather roughly hitting his side and making him frown in confusion. Green. A bag of some kind. He blinked.
“What are those?” It took a lot of concentration to get the words out and they still sounded slurred and heavy on his tongue.
“Grapes.” The clipped tone told him a lot and nothing at all. Probably another social cue he had missed.
“What’d you bring grapes for?” he asked confused as his brain slowly took up its work again.
“I hoped you might choke on the seeds.” The reply was imminent and if he had not felt so bad he might have even chuckled.
He glanced down again, quickly scanning the bag of fruit.
“They’re seedless.” He exhaled. One point for him in their little game. It felt good not to be treated like an invalid by Miller, even if he surely counted as one at the moment.
“Don’t be a smartarse,” she shot back with the barest hint of a smile and Alec felt himself smirk a little. He won this round. Settling back against the cushions and closing his eyes he turned their conversation to the uncomfortable part, the reason she was here, he guessed.
“I’m sensing you’re angry with me.” That was putting it mildly. He could feel her irritation in the air, charging it until the room crackled with static.
“You nearly died on me,” she shot back as if that was an explanation to sit at his bedside and glare daggers at him.
“No,” he protested despite knowing better. It had been bad. He could feel the lingering effects in his bones. It was something like a very bad hangover, only that the path leading to this particular feeling wasn’t half as pleasant.
“No, you did. They told me.” Alec suppressed a groan. The first time this had happened it had been Becca Fisher who found him and somehow, he had managed to keep it under wraps. Miller would not grant him the same favour with her holier-than-thou attitude.
“They can’t do that,” he protested weakly but it was futile. They apparently had. And Miller was on a roll now, letting off steam while he was in no condition to stop her.
“You discharged yourself before against their advice - heart arrhythmia. You should've told me.” she reproached but Alec did not notice the underlying worry in her tone. Heart arrhythmia. If they told Miller what his condition was, any chance of playing it down went out the window. She’d know it wasn’t just an isolated occurrence he could try to downplay or get her to ignore. Not Miller.
“Bloody hell! Is there no privacy here?” It was one more reason on a rather long list on why he hated small towns. No one minded their own business. People were being nosey and interested in the scandals and dealings of anyone within a 5-mile radius. He preferred the city's anonymity. Especially when it came to his health. Bad enough the doctors here now knew his patient’s file and specifications about his condition - he did not really trust them with it. And he had been right, if they told anyone without hesitation.
“Can’t they fix you?” Miller’s question and the gentle tone in which it was spoken threw him off. Whenever it came to his heart people tended to berate him, tell him to avoid stress, retire from his job and a hell lot of other nonsense. No one had ever asked that. So, despite any better judgement, he found himself opening up to her:
“They want to put a pacemaker in me. They don’t know if I survive the operation,” His voice got lower towards the end as he admitted, against his better judgement, what had made him refrain from the procedure. His heart was a wilful thing and quite unreliable. He had no intention dying on top of an operation table until he had done his penance. Also, he was not as hardened as to be above fear. The thought of being put under and not waking again scared him.
“How long have you been like this?” It seemed that Miller saw right through him, her voice laced with genuine concern and sympathy. Again, she got too invested. He was not worth it.
“18 months or so.” Had it really been that long already? The worst part had started after he found that little girl in the river – Pippa. He had nearly drowned trying to get her out, too shocked to realise that there was nothing to be done. The nightmares were fresh in his mind as if it had happened just a week ago.
“It’s got worse over the last month or two.” And now there was Danny. He had dreamt about him, too. Another strain his heart did not need. He had previously accused Miller of not being able to detach herself from the case and getting too invested. Not because it was a bad thing but because he knew what it could do to someone. What it had done to him.
“So you came down here, you took that case, you took that job, knowing you weren't up to it?”
Would she shut up about the bloody job? If she wanted it so badly, she should take it. He had enough of dreaming about little girls and boys being dumped in rivers or on beaches as if they were nothing more than rubbish. His heart rate sped up dangerously and the different devices he was still attached to, started beeping a high-pitched staccato that made Alec’s ears hurt. He forced himself to take a deep breath.
“We’re nearly there, Miller,” he implored. “That was the killer last night, I’m sure of it.” If that stupid heart of his hadn’t gotten in the way, they might have them already. Really, Miller should have chased after them instead of staying with him – but Alec could not fault her for that. He was glad she stayed and held his hand while he struggled for breath like a fish on dry land, his chest closing up as if a heavy weight was crushing it. The memory alone made him shiver with terror.
“Sir, you’re unfit for duty.” Miller shook her head at him. He knew that, technically, but there was a killer out there and they had started to make mistakes already. A child of eleven was dead. He could not let another murderer get away. He needed to get them. Maybe it would grant him some peace of mind again.
“I have to finish this. I can’t let the family down,” Alec whispered, hoping his desperate plea would come across. Miller knew about Sandbrook. She must know what it meant to him to get it right this time.
“Please, Miller, don’t tell the Chief Super. Please.” She could not do that. It would surely kill him if he failed again. There would be no mistakes this time. No evidence lost. He could do it. He just needed a few more days.
“I’m going back to work,” Miller said in a clipped voice, fumbling with the strap of her bag and getting up. It was no answer and yet it was. Alec sat up desperately, then had to take a deep breath as his vision swam.
“Miller, wait. Please don't go, Miller. Come back, Miller.”
She did not react. Ignoring his voice as if she had not even heard.
“That’s an order. Miller!” His desperate attempt to call her back fell on deaf ears. He was in no state to give orders and she knew it as well. Alec sank back into the bed, the last energy resources spent for now. From now on he could only wait.
---
Ellie
It was not hiding, Ellie told herself as she walked the path up to the hut following Brian Young. She was not avoiding the Chief Super in case she got asked about Alec Hardy, there were just too many things to follow up on now that they were a senior officer short. It was the perfect solution to Ellie’s moral dilemma: she would not actively seek out Jenkinson but she would also not lie when asked.
“I hear Shitface is laid up,” Brian commented in a not very subtle attempt to get more information. The grapevine was running wild, Ellie imagined. Everyone who had witnessed his collapse would have a piece to add to the story and blow it up. She would not be surprised if there was already a version where she had performed CPR on him or given him mouth-to-mouth floating around.
“Shitface?” she latched onto another thing, going for information herself instead of answering. “Not much of a nickname.” It was harsh, Ellie thought. Not funny at all but mean and hurtful.
“Well, he does look like sh¡t a lot of the time, doesn't he?” Brian shrugged without a care. Hardy had no friends among the team, Ellie was cruelly reminded. Well, no more than one.
“Is he gonna be all right?” There might not be any love lost between Hardy and Brian Young, but he was no complete arse, Ellie found. Sadly, she had no answer to his question. Everything he had told her was still going through her mind. It had sounded very serious and wasn’t a pacemaker pretty much routine nowadays? If the doctors were not sure he’d survive the procedure, there must be more damage than he’d let on.
“Don’t know, she muttered glumly, focussing her mind on the task at hand. If they could at least get the killer, it wouldn’t have been for naught at least.
“Have you found anything?”
“We’re only just up and running. Your boys are checking the slope,” Brian pointed to the opposite side of the hill, where uniform in high-vis jackets were checking the area. Hopefully they’d find anything that gave them a clue.
“So, you didn’t catch proper sight of this person?” Brian continued asking as they walked towards the hut.
Ellie shook her head. She was pretty sure it had been a man but he had been wearing dark clothes, a hat and scarf over his face. It could have been anyone, really.
“No, I wish I had,” she said. This could all be over already. If she’d just been a bit more alert, bit faster this could be over. Beth and Mark could have peace. Hardy could. Mabe catching the killer and solving the case would give him closure, too.
---
With SOCO busy at the hut Ellie returned to the station and called a meeting, assembling the whole team before her. While she still did not like to speak in front of a crowd, it was much easier to do this without her grumpy Scottish DI breathing down her neck. Last time she had been thrown to the lions, completely unprepared. This time she was focussed and knew what she wanted to say, the information clear and to the point in her head. The team listened attentively and Ellie got more confident with every word. She could have succeeded as DI, she thought bitterly. Maybe not right from the start but in time.
Time. Their greatest enemy at the moment. The clock was ticking on Susan Wright and, as daft as it sounded, they still had no idea where her dog was. After she had given them all the facts, there was only one topic still to broach. The meeting could not end without it, Ellie could see the questions in her colleagues’ eyes. She needed to address the elephant in the room.
“You probably know the boss was taken ill last night, during the pursuit. I don't know when he'll be back. But we carry on. Do not get distracted. Our duty is still to the Latimer family.” Short. To the point. Vague. Hardy might be proud, Ellie thought.
---
Alec
It had taken a herculean effort just to sit up but he managed and after a few minutes the dizziness abated enough to allow Alec to get up. His chest still felt tight and painful but the rest had done him some good and it was getting easier to breathe. He’d be fine. As Marty had once put it, he was far too stubborn to die.
Thankfully one of the nurses had taken the IV out of his right hand and bandaged it earlier. It was awfully hard to do that alone. Very painful and bloody, as he knew from experience, sadly.
His clothes were lying on a nearby chair, thankfully as the thin and hideous hospital gown they had put him in would not do. Alec felt weak as a child as he took the papery garment off and ripped the electrodes from his chest. It stung but the pain helped him focus. Once he was dressed in his suit again, a thin sheen of sweat coated his whole body and he was out of breath but his heart beat steadily. There was a new blister of pills in his coat pocket and he was as fine as he was going to get without some piece of metal in his chest. Time to get back to work.
Alec forced himself to hold his head high and back straight as he walked out of the hospital, a nurse and doctor trailing him like lost puppies. They wanted him to stay, just like last time. But what good would he be in a hospital bed? How would that help anyone? His arrhythmia would not miraculously be cured by a good night’s sleep.
Marty had said he needed to cut stress from his life and the fastest and best way to do this was to get the killer of Danny Latimer. He kept walking until he was out of sight from the hospital’s entrance, but that was it. On the nearest bench he collapsed with trembling legs and shaking hands. Just a few more days. They were very close to catching whoever killed Danny and if his stupid unreliable heart had not gotten in the way, Alec was sure the person responsible might be in custody already. Another failure he took personal.
His breathing slowed again and the trembling stopped enough for Alec to hail a cab. Sinking into the soft seat, he gave the station’s address and closed his eyes on the short ride back into town. He might even have dozed off for a few minutes.
Tapping into his last energy reserves, he walked past the desk sergeant without a falter in his step but as soon as he had entered the lift, Alec needed to lean back against the wall. His office might have been on the other side of town, so far away did it feel when he looked down the long narrow corridor leading into CID. One step in front of the other; foot by foot, Alec made his way across. The edges of his vision were already getting blurry again. Dark spots appeared in front of his eyes and he rubbed his hands across them to clear his sight. When he took them away again the dark spot had taken the shape of a person and Alec groaned weakly.
---
Ellie
She must be hallucinating. That had to be it. The lack of sleep was finally catching up, making her see things. Ellie shook her head and blinked a few times but the image stayed the same. Alec Hardy was walking, or rather staggering, down the corridor of CID on the way to the bullpen. If possible, his face had gotten even paler since she saw him in the hospital, he was leaning heavily against the wall as could not even stand up straight.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” she yelled exasperatedly and quickened her pace to reach him before he collapsed.
“Don’t start, Miller,” he growled but she ignored him. How stupid and how stubborn could a single person be? He must have left against medical advice or bullied them to let him go.
“You can’t be here,” Ellie shook her head, trying to grab his shoulder but he shrugged her off – or swayed so hard from exhaustion that her grip fell away. There was no way to be sure.
“Well, I am.” She could not believe it. By the look and sound of him he was holding on by the skin of his teeth. Less than two hours ago he had almost begged her to not tell Jenkinson, to help sweep a serious heart condition under the carpet somehow and now he walked right into CID, into a whole bunch of detectives, thinking they would not see how bad he was from a mile off? Hypocrite.
“You’ll kill yourself,” Ellie told him. There was no way to put it nicely. He was not even far off, she guessed.
“If that’s what it takes.” He ground out between gritted teeth, using his teeth to tear at the plastic bracelet the hospital had put on him. Ellie shook her head again.
“It’s not worth dying for.” Did he value his own life so little? He had a daughter. He must have something to live for, some reason to take better care of himself.
“Not for you maybe,” he mumbled weakly and leant fully against the wall, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. Any colour had drained from his face, except for a red rim around his eyelids. Ellie was torn between her desire to get him somewhere he could at least sit down and kick his arse so hard he crawled back to the hospital or at the very least his hotel room.
“Go away. We can manage without you.” She had it all under control. Everyone on the team had their tasks cut out, Bob was doing door-to-doors and she would be interviewing Susan Wright if he had not appeared like a ghost in the hallway.
“That's what you've wanted right from the start, this job the job you think I stole.” He spat out bitterly. As if this was about the bloody job. Yes, she had wanted to be a DI here in Broadchurch. It would have been nice after all the training she did, with all her experience and the pay rise that came with it would have helped, too. But she couldn’t care less about it now. Prestige or power had never meant anything to Ellie. She had just wanted recognition for the hard work she put in and to rest a little easier when she thought about her mortgage or Tom wanting to go to university in a few years.
“For God’s sake, sir!” Hardy was still not budging. Maybe she should have reported him to Jenkinson after all. This was beginning to look a lot like a suicide mission.
“Come on, Miller. With me out you get to lead. Dream come true.” He taunted. How could he know which of her buttons to push after just two months? Even his voice sounded a little steadier now he had time to catch his breath and lean against something.
“I wouldn’t want your job,” she told him and she meant it. If the job did that to him – hardening him to the point of ignoring his health, becoming a hermit who had nothing left to live for except his work. No, she did not want that.
“Don't be daft. If you get offered it, you'd take it.“ Ellie was no longer sure if he was still trying to get a rise out of her or if he was being genuine. Maybe he knew it was over for him one way or another. It was just a matter of time before Jenkinson pulled him off the case. Even if she hadn’t, someone would have said something. There were uniform there at the boatyard last night and the rumour mill was grinding down. She had not missed the sudden buzz of whispers earlier at her meeting, when she spoke about Hardy. That Jenkinson had not called Ellie in for questioning was a stroke of luck, nothing more.
“I wouldn’t be up for it.” Ellie held on to her conviction. She would not let herself be tempted to kick him when he was down already. Enough people were doing that already. Brian and his stupid nickname. Probably half of CID.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he shrugged, deflating before her eyes as his strength flagged once again.
“What?” He kept changing his mind so fast, Ellie was getting whiplash from it. What was he doing?
“Well, it's a tough job. You've found your level. Rural DS - keep within your limits.” He shrugged, attempting to push himself off the wall and stand a little straighter. It made her skin prickle with anger.
“Don’t tell me where my limits are,” she said harshly. He had no right, absolutely no right whatsoever, to tell her that. He knew nothing.
“Then don’t tell me to go home.” Oh. That was what he had done. He had taken her telling him he wasn’t up to the job around and made it about her. And now he could shove it right back in her face. She walked right into the trap. Stupid. A page one mistake. Ellie ground her teeth. Even half-dead he was still bloody clever. It made her wonder how good a detective he had been before he got ill.
Had she not heard the same thing half her career? That she was not up to the job, that as a mother she could never deal with the caseload of a DI the way a man could or that she could not solve crimes like this one – not because she was less clever than her colleagues, but because she was a woman. All those years on the force she had fought these stupid and unfounded allegations. What right did she have to tell him he wasn’t up to it, heart condition or not. He was here. If the roles were reverses, she couldn’t say for sure she would not be the same.
“I can still solve this. Otherwise, why am I still here?” She had seen him work and, grudgingly, had to admit he was right. And she needed him. His pessimistic, suspicious view of the world; his experience with cases like that. Broadchurch had never seen a murder – none of the detectives here were up to it. Beth and Mark deserved to at least know what had happened to their boy. The rest of the town, all the parents and children, they deserved to sleep in peace. Whoever did this deserved to spend the rest of their life behind bars.
Whether Ellie liked it or not, she needed Hardy to achieve that. In return she would make sure he did not kill himself over it. Now that she knew, she could keep an eye on him. She would not leave him out of her sight for a minute and she would do anything to get this case wrapped up as soon as possible. And once this was done, she would make sure he rested and he got this damn pacemaker.
“For God’s sake. All right, then.”
They were a team, after all.
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