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This cup of tea was perfect. It was just right. Ellie was quite proud of herself for managing it, and she was quite certain she would never manage it again, so she was determined to enjoy this. It was her first night off in weeks, and she was staying in. The boys were with friends and she had the house all to herself, just to breathe and watch the telly, and enjoy this cup of tea. Everything was all set. This was a great start to a good evening.
That is, until she heard a knocking at the door.
“Oh,” she sighed, setting her mug down on the counter.
They knocked again.
“Yes, I’m coming!” she called, but they knocked yet again. “Alright,” she said as she opened the door.
Just as she reached for the lock, she had the thought that maybe she should have had a weapon. Just in case. But standing there in the door wasn’t an attacker or a robber. It was Hardy. He looked…strange. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Some mad combination of sad and desperate, and maybe something else.
“What are you—”
“Miller, I wanted to talk,” he said. His voice was even but tinted with some kind of motive or desire.
Bugger, she needed to stop trying to read into this.
“Phones exist, you know,” she said, smiling to try to lighten the mood, and he nodded, just as stoic as ever. “Is everything alright?”
“This afternoon you asked me down to the pub,” he said.
“I did,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure…”
“It’s alright,” she said.
“I realize now you were probably trying to…God, I’m an idiot,” he said, shaking his head.
She swallowed, hoping that would also push down her impulse to laugh or agree with him. She didn’t genuinely believe it, but habits are habits.
“I’d love to…go for a drink sometime,” he said. “Or dinner. Or whatever. If you still want to.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. I probably look mad turning up here like this. I should go.” He turned to leave.
“Wait,” she said, and he turned to face her again, that same look in his eyes.
Dammit, she wished he’d stop with whatever these looks were that he’d been giving her the past few weeks.
“Hardy, I,” she said, then stopped herself. “Alec. Is that okay? Alec? Can I call you that? I know you said you don’t like it.”
“That was because…” He shook his head. “No. You can call me that,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Alec, I would like to talk. Do you want to come in?”
He gave a little half nod and she stepped back so he could come in, and she shut the door behind them. The entryway was dark and they stood there in the narrow little passage into the house for a moment, face to face, before she started to move further into the house. He got the idea at the same time, and almost bumped into her but waited, letting her go first, and they laughed a little, no less nervous.
She led him into the kitchen, and she passed him her cup of tea, then went to work making another. It wouldn’t be as good, but in all honesty, right now she’d hardly know the difference.
“You were trying to ask me out today, weren’t you? I’ve not imagined that myself?” he said quietly.
“I don’t know what I was trying to do,” she said. “I suppose that was my intention. I thought…”
She went to the sink and rinsed her hands, then crossed in front of him again to dry them on a tea towel which was hanging through a drawer handle. She laughed. Not an amused laugh, not a funny laugh. It was nervous. It was scared. He looked at her carefully.
“In our position I’m not supposed to do that,” she said after a moment. “I know that. Could get me fired, or worse. But er…yeah. That is what I was trying to do.”
“I wouldn’t get you fired,” he murmured, taking a sip from his mug.
“I thought that maybe because everyone was going, if I asked you to join it’d be a little less obvious,” she said. “When you said no, I was a bit disappointed, but I guess I was also…relieved?”
He nodded. “I get that. I’ve been thinking of the same thing for a while, though, if that makes you feel any better.”
Her heart felt like it sank. It was supposed to skip a beat. That’s what she’d always heard. When something like this happens, your heart is supposed to skip a beat. But just now, it sank. Then immediately picked up, seemingly twice as fast. She cleared her throat.
The kettle whistled and she reached for that, pouring the water over into a second mug, and got the box of tea back down from the cabinet, putting her back to him.
“I guess I was scared, too,” he continued. “Especially with everything going on.”
“Right,” she said. “Thinking back, though,” she smiled, “you were quite obvious with the whole kissing thing.”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“‘Miller, I could kiss you,’” she said, turning back around, a smile on her face.
“Oh, that,” he said, and took another long sip. “Yeah, that was a bit of a slip,” he sighed.
She laughed, and so did he, both a bit more comfortable now.
“So, how long?” she asked.
“Hm?” he intoned.
“How long have you been thinking about this?”
There was a long pause, and he shook his head, looking down into his cup.
“I hate to say it,” he said.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
She laughed quietly, just once, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small, crooked sort of smile.
“I realized it when you asked if I’d had sex with Claire Ripley,” he muttered into his cup as he raised it again.
“What?” she laughed.
“I’m not sure how long before that,” he confessed. “I just know I realized it then because I was ashamed that you knew. I was ashamed that it happened, but I was even more ashamed that you knew. It was different because you knew. I didn’t like that.”
“Oh,” she said again, holding the string of her teabag and bobbing it in the steaming cup, watching as the color spread, became more evenly dark.
He cleared his throat, looking down at his hands on the mug. They were shaking.
“You know, I realized that time when we were walking,” she said.
“You’ve got to be clearer than that, Miller,” he laughed, then immediately sobered, realizing what he’d called her. “Ellie, I mean. First names now and all.”
“Not if you don’t want to,” she said quietly.
“I want to.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling. “Er, well, I mean, with Fred at the fair. I think that’s when I really knew.”
He looked at her, eyes wide but his expression otherwise blank.
“That’s—that’s just when I realized,” she said. “I’m sure it was much sooner that it actually started. You know. So don’t feel weird or anything.”
“No,” he said, shooting for casual and winding up somewhere between embarrassed and uneasy.
“You know,” she said, relaxing a bit and gaining a sort of dreamy, thoughtful look in her eyes, “it was probably around the time of Joe’s trial. When people started asking if we’d…well, you know.” She took the teabag out of her cup and deposited it into the sink, then went to the fridge to get the milk. “A little while after that, I started thinking about it.”
He coughed, choking on a mouthful of tea.
“Shit, sorry,” she said. “Not that.” She laughed a little as she patted him on the back, and once he’d calmed down some, went back to her tea. “Just, you know, you. Whether or not I liked you that way, or if it would even work. A relationship, I mean. Real or made up.”
He nodded, thinking. He’d never expected this much of a discussion. In truth, he’d expected Miller to slam the door in his face for turning up at her house so late or for being so rude to her that afternoon, or if she did talk to him, just some polite laughter and a plan to go out to dinner on Sunday. He never thought she’d invite him in, give him her tea, and reminisce with him when they’d realized they had feelings for one another.
“To tell the truth, I never imagined we’d be talking about this,” she said, and his eyes widened but he said nothing. “I assumed it was just some…some work crush, and it would be over. But I’ve grown quite fond of you, you old wanker.”
“Thanks,” he said, going to take another sip from his mug and instead lowering it awkwardly after realizing it was already empty.
Nervous drinker, you are, he thought to himself, and snickered.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“This is a bit weird from me,” he said. “It’s just…I haven’t had this sort of conversation in years. I haven’t,” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Well, I haven’t had this sort of conversation since my wife. And that was about twenty years ago.”
“I thought you’d been on dates since,” she said.
“Just one,” he said. “And it never got serious.”
“What about Claire?”
“Sex isn’t love, Miller,” he said.
Her smile faded, her expression falling from teasing to serious.
“Love?” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Is…that how you feel?”
His eyes widened. Maybe that was too a strong word to use just yet. “I’m sorry. I sh—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. She took a sip from her cup, smiling again. “Love. I like that.”
“Okay.”
She cleared her throat. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t had this conversation in probably about twenty years as well. My marriage with Joe was the only serious relationship I had and you’re the first person I’ve felt this way for since.”
“So where do we start? What are we supposed to do about this?” he asked.
He set his mug down and leaned on the counter as he looked at her. His expression had softened. But not only that. His whole demeanor seemed to have softened. Ellie smiled. Alec Hardy, gone soft over his detective sergeant. What talk that’ll be. And for her to have fallen for him, too. Even better.
“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you want to do?”
He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, letting the air out slowly. He looked somewhat past her at a spot on the floor.
“We’ve never been to the pub, like you said,” he said after a moment. “We could still do that, if you like.”
“No,” she said, imitating the tone of voice he’d used with her that afternoon.
“Oh,” he said.
He looked down again, disappointed.
“No, because I think I’d rather have dinner than a drink,” she said.
“Oh,” he said again, a bit more optimistic now. “Alright.”
“Nowhere too fancy if you don’t like,” she said. “Just a chippie or maybe we can splurge for a pizza and beer. Hang out at one of our places, have a chat.”
“We’ve done that loads of times,” he said.
“This time’ll be different,” she said. “This time it won’t be because of work or because you’re sick or because I need somebody around. It’ll be because we’re spending time together and getting to know each other aside from work and kids.”
“Alright. I’d like that,” he said. “When?”
“Sunday evening good for you?”
“Sunday evening’s fine,” he said with a smile, one that really suited him, that looked real. Ellie couldn’t help but smile back. “And, er,” he hesitated, “your place or mine?”
“Where are you most comfortable?” she asked.
“Well this weekend Daisy’s going with Chloe Latimer to look at a school,” he said. “So mine’ll be empty.”
“Yours it is then,” she said.
There was a brief silence, filled only by the sound of the clock ticking in the entryway. Alec cleared his throat and stood up a bit straighter.
“I should get back,” he said. “Let you get on with your evening.” He headed toward the door tentatively, as though he half-expected her to stop him or say something. “Thanks for the tea, and er, I’m sorry for coming over unannounced like this.”
“It’s no problem.” She chuckled. “I’m really very glad you did.”
“Good,” he muttered. “Me, too.”
“Let me walk you to the door.”
She led him back through the house to the front door, and she opened it again, this time to let him out. On the doorstep, he turned around to face her again where she stood on the other side of the threshold.
“I’ll see you at work then,” he said.
“See you at work.”
He started to leave, but before he had fully turned away she stopped him, and she pulled him down into a kiss, short and sweet. Then there was another, from him this time, and another, which gradually turned into another, more urgent kiss, a deeper, hungrier kiss. She leaned against the wall just outside the door and he pressed his body against hers. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, or what he was even supposed to be doing. It had been quite a while since he’d kissed anyone like this, but he felt he was quickly getting the hang of it again.
It was just so strange to be doing this here, with Miller, er, Ellie. He had to get used to that. And it certainly wasn’t how he imagined it. He felt like he was in school again, sneaking around with a girlfriend, getting one last good kiss good night before her father came downstairs and saw what they were doing. Not that he really had any experience with that sort of thing, because he didn’t, he reminded himself.
“It would be really inappropriate if I asked you back inside, wouldn’t it?” she said breathlessly once he pulled away.
“I…er, probably,” he said, and he closed his eyes tight shut, trying to reorient himself.
He laughed, and so did she.
“I’ll see you at work, then,” she said.
“See you at work,” he said.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” he said, backing away slowly and heading down the drive.
Once he was out of sight, Ellie stepped back inside, pulling the sleeves down on her jumper, over her hand, and smiling to herself as she closed the door.