Broadchurch: Across the Pond

Chapter 13

TW: momentary sexual harassment (quickly resolved)

At six pm, Alice the secretary came to inform Alec and Ellie that school was out and it was time to play, as she so maturely put it. No, they didn't need to return to the hotel to change, the bar was so close that they were going to walk! Alec gritted his teeth and attempted to smile.

"I hate you," he said to Ellie. "With every fiber of my being."

"At least it's cooler out." She linked her arm with his, pulling him through the car park after their temporary coworkers. "You'll be fine. You walk everywhere back home, anyway."

"In the open air, away from people."  He clocked the bar, all neon lights and thumping speakers. "You're fired."

Inside the Rusty Seashell, indistinct music and even more indistinct voices blended into auditory mud. The Americans went right to the bar, ordering things that Alec, for one, had never heard of: fuzzy navels, jungle juices, 77s, and mojitos, with promises to do "shots of Jaeger"later. It wasn't clear who was paying for what, but nobody was letting the Brits buy a thing.

Alice bounced over to Alec with a strawberry margarita. "Allow me to buy you your first drink in America!" she shouted above the din.

"I don't drink," Alec shouted back politely.

"Why not?"

"It's...um.... against my religion."

"Guess I'll have to drink it for you!" Alice toasted him with the glass full of pink slush, and downed it in two gulps. "Let me know when you're ready to dance!"

Alec decided that he wouldn't be dancing unless there was a gun to his head.

The team pushed some tables together and ordered food. Jalapeno poppers, onion rings, mini tacos, and hot wings arrived in short order. Sanchez passed Alec a plate heaped with unidentifiable fried food.

"Miller!" Alec hissed. "Eat some of this!"

She laughed. "Maybe they'll get you to put on some weight!"

"I can't eat this shite! Pretend it's a Scotch egg!"

Ellie caught on to his predicament—a heart condition versus fried food—relieved his plate of onion rings so it looked like he'd eaten something. Someone brought her another drink and she turned away. Alec shrank back into the booth to watch the drunken chaos around them. It reminded him of David Attenborough's nature documentaries, right down to the mating danced and fancy plumage.

The music got louder, the atmosphere got hotter, and Alec started to feel dizzy. Hehad to get out of there. He glanced around for Ellie. Either she's been in the loo for forty minutes, or they had gotten well and truly separated. He leaned over to someone he vaguely recognized and shouted, "Do you know where Mill— Ellie—is?"

"Yeah," the person answered, pointing. "She's over there, other side of the dance floor!"

The crowd parted for a second, and Alec spotted her, chatting with a young American bloke who was definitely not police. Alec waved to get her attention, to no avail; she looked to be having a fine time. He started wending his way through the crowd. Sweaty bodies jostled him from all sides like a human pinball.

"Miller!" he called when he got a bit closer. She sipped her drink, oblivious.

Alec's vision blurred, and he paused, losing sight of Ellie. When next he saw her, the stranger had one hand on her waist as he tried to dance with her. Ellie was having none of it; she sidled away politely. The man tried again, and again, Ellie moved away. He touched her one more time before Alec got there, and he wasn't interested in politeness.