Broadchurch: Blast From The Past

Chapter 14

TW: talk of injury, anxiety

It was a long time since Ellie wore her dress blues. Every police officer had a dress uniform for formal occasions, usually funerals. The women's uniform was a fitted blazer jacket and pencil skirt in navy blue, with black pumps and a white button-up shirt. She was glad it still fit. She was also pissed that it took the department eight bloody weeks after the Wright case to make arrangements for the ceremony. It was damned disrespectful.

"Tom?" she called. "Are you ready?"

Tom was her "date" to the event. He didn't mind, especially since the Chief Super's seventeen-year-told daughter would be there. The hard part was getting him into a suit.

"Thomas Miller!" Ellie repeated, louder this time. "Are you ready?"

He trudged into the room wearing a navy suit, gray shirt, and navy tie. "Do I have to wear the tie?"

"Very sharp." Ellie brushed imaginary lint from his shoulders. "And yes, you have to wear the tie. There'll be a lot of eyes on us."

"Yeah, 'cause of you and your partner." Tom straightened one of her medals. "You look great, Mum."

Ellie smoothed her hair. "Thanks, sweetie."

Downstairs, the doorbell rang, followed by an indignant shout.

"MILLAH! Somebody at the door!"

"You get it," Ellie yelled down the stairs. "You're closer!"

"I haven't time, I'm trying to get dressed with one hand!" Alec yelled.

"Just get the bloody door!"

He grumbled his way to the door and threw it open. "Whatever you're selling, we--"

"Hi, Dad." It wasn't a salesperson on the other side, it was Daisy, wearing a blue velvet dress. "I heard you needed a date."

"Daze!" Alec hugged her with his good arm. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"Ellie thought a surprise might cheer you up." She shut the door and surveyed him ,hands on hips. "And it looks like you could use some help."

Alec's shirt was half-buttoned and his tie was a disaster. He hadn't even attempted to put on his jacket. Eight weeks after the gunshot wound, and the surgeries to repair his punctured lung, remove the bone fragments, reattach the torn muscles, and replace the pacemaker, his left arm was still in a sling and almost useless. The pain wasn't as bad—at least, he wasn't popping Vicodin like candy anymore—but getting dressed was a struggle. "Yeah...yeah, I could use some help."

Daisy grinned. "Come on."

In the guest room, she buttoned his dress shirt the rest of the way and straightened his tie. Alec watched her with a bemused expression. "Where'd you learn this?"

"Boyfriend taught me." She gave him another, more mischievous grin. "Kidding.  I used to love watching you get ready for work. My daddy, the detective."

"I never knew that."

"Yep." Daisy picked up his jacket from the bed. "I think it would look better with your arm through the sleeve."

"You'll have to help me," Alec admitted reluctantly.

"No problem."

Wincing, he undid the sling, and let Daisy help him guide his bad arm through the jacket sleeve.

"Still hurts, huh?" Daisy asked sadly.

"Not as bad," Alec answered through his teeth. It was a relief to put the sling back on. "Though that's not saying much."