Alec Hardy is pretty depressed and lonely in S2, and in a lot of ways his house is a focal point for this. Many a time we see him alone, sobbing, having a mild breakdown or a health scare in that sad little blue house by the river. The season even opens with Hardy alone and obviously unhappy in that house.
In S02E05, things change dramatically. Ellie takes over. “I’m gonna solve it [Sandbrook]. I’m gonna need your wall.”
She takes charge of his house and the Sandbrook files. Hardy sits on the step and promptly passes out. He recovers enough to go and find Jocelyn to do his will, then spends the entire night being angsty and dramatic on top of cliffs.
He avoided going home because he feared to sleep and couldn’t take any more nightmares; but also because he couldn’t bear to come home to an empty house. He couldn’t face that loneliness, that reminder that he lives alone, that his family is gone.
So of course, imagine his shock when he does come home in the morning. Not only has Miller stayed over all night, but without his knowledge or consent she moved everything around. Look at his face:
Ellie quite literally pops up from a sea of evidence
This woman just stayed over at his place uninvited, completely trashed his house, went through all his stuff, ate all his food and used all his teabags, put a toddler in his bed, greeted him by whisper-yelling questions about murders to him, and you know what?
I adore how quickly he accepts it. “Alright, she lives here now. She’s in charge.” The very next scene is:
Hardy taking on parenting duties and domestic responsibilities from Miller. Hardy liking that Fred is in his life and in his home as much as he likes that Miller’s there. “Alright I guess that’s my son now. Gimme that pram.” It’s like he’s suddenly got this little surrogate family.
Hardy looking at all the handwritten notes Miller left for him also kills me:
Look how fucking cute this is. Hardy’s been alone in this tiny blue house for months, hating Broadchurch and hating living here and hating being alone, but now the Ellie hurricane has arrived. She’s everywhere in his home. He can’t look anywhere without being reminded of her influence. Her voice even speaks to him from the wall of evidence via these notes, making sense of all the nightmares and traumas about Sandbrook that plague him.
LUCY BURSTS IN WHILE THEY’RE WORKING AND LOOKS AROUND. SHE’S NONE TOO IMPRESSED BY THE DISGUSTING MESS MILLER CREATED BY CHUCKING THE SANDBROOK FILES EVERYWHERE AND SHUFFLING EVERYTHING AROUND:
LOOK. AT. HIM. HE’S SO OFFENDED. “HOW DARE U INSULT MILLER’S GARBAGE DUMP AESTHETIC.” I cannot get over this line, because when people like Olly, Maggie and Lee showed up and came into his house and invaded his personal space he just sort of accepted it. He hates living in Broadchurch and he’s staying here out of necessity. This house is where the full weight of his loneliness hits him. But now Ellie’s here, so excuse me, this is my house. “This is my house, it’s great, it’s got Ellie in it and a cute toddler and I will not tolerate any criticism of Ellie’s interior design choices.” He’s proud of it. He likes living here.
In the very next episode, Hardy gets his pacemaker. Tess says the doctors advise him to stay in the hospital. He replies, “Take me home.” Home. To his blue house in Broadchurch. The one that Ellie’s put her mark all over. The one that Ellie rearranged. The one that she made a home. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than there.
The last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep:
Ellie’s evidence wall, her handwritten notes, her voice.
And the first thing he sees when he wakes up the next day?
Ellie. Ellie in his home. Ellie looking at him and smiling, conveniently after he’d just vividly hallucinated about Claire discussing what it feels like to be madly in love with someone, to the point you consider them your other half.
Hardy’s home is in Broadchurch. More than that, his home is with Ellie. The way she takes over his house and rearranges all his Sandbrook files mirrors how she does the same for his mind, his heart, his soul. Everything was cluttered and illegible and suffocating; she unboxed all that evidence and made sense of it. His house was empty; he had no-one in his life.
And then she came along, and suddenly his house wasn’t such a bad place after all, and life was even worth living too.
