Broadchurch: Across the Pond

Chapter 18

TW: illness, anxiety

Chief Boden met them in the hallway, looking nauseous. "One of my own detectives, right under my nose. How long have you suspected?"

"Just last night," Alec replied.

"We didn't know Alice was involved until we found her picture," Ellie added. "She's been flirting with Hardy all week."

Alec fidgeted, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"That reminds me," Boden said. "What's a banshee?"

"Sorry?"

"You called Alice a banshee."

"It's a mythical woman whose scream heralds death," Alec admitted. "Seemed appropriate.."

Boden laughed despite the situation. "Yeah, pretty appropriate. Will you two comeback if it goes to trial?"

Ellie and Alec answered together: "No."

"Well, thank you," Boden said sincerely. "I wish you both well. I imagine you're in a hurry to get home."

Alec, who was actively wondering if he needed another injection, replied in a dry tone, "You could say that."

"Try to have your case reports to me by the end of the month, if you can. I'll email any paperwork we need done." Boden stuck out his big hand. "Pleasure to watch you work, detectives."

Handshakes were exchanged, and the Brits left, leaving Boden to explain to Sanchez's hungover team why their boss wouldn't be returning. Ellie was on the phone with United Airlines before they reached the lift.

The soonest flight was eight am next day; a stroke of luck, by all accounts. Alec and Ellie had a celebratory dinner at the hotel restaurant, packed their bags, and went to bed. They allowed three hours in the morning to get to LAX and through security. It was barely enough time. Alec's luggage got searched again; he just stood by and glowered, too exhausted to throw a fit. Ellie experienced her own luggage search. Apparently it was illegal to transport half a dozen glass wine bottles across international borders. Ellie paid almost a hundred dollars to have them shipped to her house; she wasn't leaving them behind now. After all the hijinks, they made it to the departure gate moments before boarding was announced.

"I can't believe you tried to sneak wine on the plane," Alec muttered. "Can you imagine if it'd broken?"

Ellie hadn't thought of that, but damned if she would admit it. "It was your idea."

"I was kidding!"

"Oh, now you tell me!"

A crying baby made the twelve-hour flight crawl by. Sleeping was almost impossible, though Ellie dozed off on Alec's shoulder for a while. He didn't make her move, but Ellie knew she would never live it down.

They switched places on the New York to London flight, so that Ellie was on the aisle. Alec went right to sleep. Ellie tucked a blanket around him, and wrapped up in one herself. Neither of them had gotten any rest on the last flight, courtesy of the crying baby. She felt like hell, and she was perfectly healthy;  Alec must be downright miserable.

At lunch—or whatever meal it was, with the time zone change—Ellie ordered lasagna for herself and a bagel for Alec. He woke when he smelled the food, emerging from the blanket like a troll from under a bridge.

"Did you put this on me?" he asked muzzily, plucking at the blanket.

"Nope, you did it in your sleep," Ellie answered.