Broadchurch: Across the Pond

Chapter 2

TW: language ,anxiety

Heathrow was quite a drive from Broadchurch, but it was the only place that had London-to-New-York flights seven days a week. It took two days to work out the details. Alec and Ellie would have a layover in New York, then board another plane to LA. Ellie left her boys with her sister, who was quite happy to hang out with her nephews for a few weeks. Alec broke the news to his daughter over lunch; she was more excited than he was, and made him promise to bring her back something. Ellie always made fun of him for that: he could face down a gun-wielding murderer, but was putty in the hands of a seventeen-year-old girl.

Alec was waiting outside his house with a single battered suitcase when Ellie pulled up. She rolled down the window and called, "Where's the rest of your luggage?"

"This is it," he answered with his typical bluntness. "Why, how many do you have?"

Ellie popped the boot. A few seconds later, she heard, "Bloody hell, Miller, did you bring your whole wardrobe?" Then the boot slammed shut and Alec climbed in next to her. He buckled in, shaking his head.

"You said to pack for a long trip," Ellie reminded him. "I don't want to hear you bitch when you run out of clothes."

"That's what laundry machines are for."

"Sir, can I ask you a question?"

"I have a feeling you're going to anyway."

"With your pacemaker," Ellie asked, "is air travel going to affect you?"

"Technically, no," Alec answered. "But I told the chief super I had to fly first class to keep the stress down. And that I needed you in first class with me because you know my medical history."

"That is absolutely devious. I like it."

He shot her a rare smile, the sort that made his eyes light up for just a second. "Well, if the Americans are so desperate to have us, they're welcome to pay out the nose—God knows they can afford it. Might as well enjoy ourselves."

"If I ever see you enjoying yourself, I will die of shock," Ellie informed him seriously.

"Oh, don't be daft. You've seen me laugh at least twice."

"You were laughing at me!"

"And you let your colleagues call me Shitface for three years before telling me! What kind of person does that?"

They bickered for most of the drive to Heathrow. Alec critiqued Ellie's driving skills until she got so angry that she pulled over on the M25, got out, and yelled that if he was so worried then he could drive. Of course he said no, and brooded the rest of the way.

At the airport, Ellie hauled her bags out of the boot of the car and asked sourly, "You gonna stand there or are you gonna help me with these?"

"I'm not supposed to lift," Alec said primly.

"Shut the fuck up and grab a bag."

Alec rolled his eyes and took the wheeled suitcase, the only one that didn't need to be lifted. They paid for their parking with the department's credit card, and headed for the departure gate with time to spare. That was when everything started to fall apart.

Ellie sent her bags through the TSA x-ray machine and stepped calmly through the scanner. At the station to her left, Alec was being less cooperative.

"I can't go in there," he insisted repeatedly. "I have a pacemaker, I could literally die. The card is in my wallet—and my wallet is in the bucket you won't let me near!"