Broadchurch: Across the Pond

Chapter 9

TW: vomiting

No one at the station seemed to have noticed they were gone, or perhaps they thought the Brits had gone for lunch again. Alec and Ellie secluded themselves in their office. For a few minutes, they were too busy sucking in the air conditioning to speak.

Finally Ellie asked miserably, "Do people really go to the beach for fun?"

"Must be an American thing," Alec replied. He sounded exhausted. "Maybe we should've gone back to the hotel. I'm sweating in places I didn't know I could sweat."

"Same here."

Alec's mobile buzzed in his pocket; he checked the screen, smiled, and answered in the gentle tone he reserved for his daughter. "Hi, darlin'."

Ellie left to give him privacy, and was immediately accosted by Sanchez.

"I was just about to come get you!" he said. "We're having a little lunch-hour party. There's a big spread of sushi in the break room, and you're welcome to join us."

"Oh, th-that sounds delicious," Ellie stammered. "Hardy's on a call at the moment, but I'm sure he'll--"

She was interrupted by Alec's voice, bellowing so loud that the windows practically shook. "You've got a WHAT?"

The entire office stopped to listen to the Scottish meltdown happening in the other room.

"And you waited to tell me this now?" Alec shouted into his mobile. "How long have you—three months?!...How old is he? What's his name and national insurance number?...Well, of course I'm going to look him up! Him, his family, his friends, and everyone else he's ever had contact with!"

"That accent gets thicker when he's pissed," Sanchez remarked.

Ellie nodded. Back home, they used Alec's Scottish burr to judge how angry he was. It was surprisingly accurate.

Alec's voice softened. "Sweetheart, of course I want you to be happy, but can't you wait until I'm dead before you start dating?...Well, you tell young whatever the hell his name is—Jackson—Jackson, seriously?--that if he thinks your mother is scary, just wait until he meets me...If he really loves you, he won't be scared off and if he is, then—okay, fine. When I get home, we'll all go out for dinner. My treat. I won't bring my gun, promise. Love you, sweetheart. Bye-bye."

He came crashing out of the office like a tall, skinny whirlwind. "I'm going for a walk."

"There's sushi in the breakroom," Ellie called after him.

"I'm vegetarian," Alec snapped over his shoulder, and disappeared.

"He's vegetarian?" Sanchez asked, overwhelmed.

"No," Ellieanswered, "he's just an arse."

Alec was still fuming when he came back. He hunted down Ellie, and found her perched on the break room counter eating sashimi.

"How was the phone call, sir?" she asked. "Have a good talk with your daughter?"

"Daisy's got a boyfriend," he growled. "They've been together three months and she's just now telling me. Not only that, but she waited until I'm on a different bloody continent!"

"I can't imagine why."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alec demanded. He glared at her food. "Are you seriously eating that?"

"What, don't you like sushi?" Ellie picked up a piece with her chopsticks and waggled it in his face. "Try it!"

He recoiled, as she'd known he would. "Absolutely not. And I don't think you should be eating it, either. It's not been on ice, has it?"