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The beach had become more comforting in the recent days. A place of solace during the storm much like when he was eight. Hardy had been watching the soft surf, staring into the abyss and watching the cliffs crumble for days now. If life was ever present it was here. A constant reminder that the world was forever changing around him. Everything changes, life moves on. It was the one fact Hardy could never escape from no matter how hard he tried.
D-day was fast approaching now and he still had yet to tell anyone. Who would he tell? Daisy was too young to deal with the mortality of her own father, Tess had moved on and Miller had her own mess she was attempting to navigate. No one needed to be burdened by him anymore than the debt he had accrued already. His escaping mortality was like the tide going out. Nothing could make it stop.
All he had left on his conscience was Sandbrook. He had even failed with that. Not only had he failed the families but drug Miller into the jumble of uncertainty. At least if he did die someone would continue his work. Maybe that had been his unintentional reasoning for involving her. Miller needed something to give her perspective in her own storm. That could be his last present to them all.
The chill of the wind finally was getting to him. Hardy pulled his knees up, closer to his body. Doing this he caught a glimpse of a pearly clam shell. Leaning forward he grasped it in his hand, brushing the sand free of the ridges. Smiling he couldn’t help but think of the collection Daisy used to have on her bedside table. She always loved the beach and especially when he would have a light enough case load to take a day or two off for a weekend get away with his favorite girl. It had been years since their last, before Pippa had been found.
It felt like just yesterday he was holding her hand walking her down the street for her first day of school. Now she was a young woman, looking more like her mother every day. Soon she would have her first boyfriend. Maybe even fall in love. Who would protect her? Make sure that this young thug didn’t break his baby girl’s heart? The image of her crying under her fairy lights and net canopy almost broke him.
What did break Hardy however was the realization he no longer knew what his daughter’s room looked like let alone who her best friend was or if she had any crushes. It used to be that Daisy would tell him everything. Now he was lucky if he got a response text. Not that he could honestly blame her. The last case had taken him from her. Sandbrook had so many more body bags than the one belonging to Pippa Gillespie. Even his own life was just one of the many caught up in the fray.
What was the normal thing to do in situations such like these? Tell his daughter and exwife about the surgery? Make a will? But in this small town with no privacy word would be around to everyone by tea time. It was safer to keep silent but then who would shelter her? Make sure she was provided for? Hadn’t that always been his job as dad? To protect his daughter? Even if from her own mum.
Who would make sure she knew how to dance for prom? That her dress was fitting of the young lady she was becoming? Would Tess’s new boyfriend ensure Daisy’s date was up to par? That his hands didn’t travel to places they dare not think about? Or keep a keen eye on the corsage exchange. Tess only knew so much. Hardy had been a young lad once. He knew what young boys thought raging full of testosterone, with only one thing on their mind. Surely Tess would not know to borrow an unmarked car to follow Daisy and her prospective date making sure to be close by in fear of trouble.
He could see her in the church. Her light brown hair falling in waves around her face, his mum’s pearl earrings set on her ears with the gold band that once had been his tied to her handkerchief in remembrance of him. Tess would be there primping her about to be wed daughter. The beautiful woman he would never have a chance to know about to marry the man deserving of her with no one to walk her down the aisle.
Would Daisy even care at all? Would she miss him or attend his funeral? Would Tess? Maybe his things would remain unclaimed. No proper funeral for a washed up detective with no family. No, Daisy wouldn’t allow that. Despite their distance she knew how much her daddy loved her. There was no doubt in his mind the love Daisy had for him even if she did not show it. She was a teenager after all. It wasn’t expected. Nor did he doubt the love Tess had for their daughter. She would be there for her in Daisy's time of mourning. Stand by her side as the bagpipes were played and he was laid to rest. Rest, what an odd idea that his impending death seemed nothing like. Nothing like the peace everyone speaks of near his end.
Hardy’s mind streamed back to the woman his daughter would one day be. The loose messy ponytail her hair would be in after birthing her first child. He hoped for a girl. A little granddaughter he would never know. No doubt with Tess’ nose and his stringy brown hair, just like Daisy had ended up with. Oh how she would be a good mum. She always had a maternal streak, wanting to help injured animals, offering her money for those in more need. She was her father’s daughter in that sense. He had rubbed off on her. Even if he had missed her grow up from a little girl. Hardy had no hesitation at the woman his fifteen year old girl would become or the great things Daisy would go on to achieve despite the loss of her now absent father.
Taking a deep breath Hardy checked the time. Maybe he should go pay a visit to Jocelyn and see about that will. If he was going to die he wanted to ensure Daisy had everything she ever needed. Especially if he couldn’t be there for her. It might be sub-par but it was the least he could do for his baby girl. A way to let her know even at the end she was still on his mind. She always would be.