We begin compiling a list of potential suspects by taking note of their strange behavior, which mainly consists of them looking shifty. Trish's estranged husband (is "estranged" the word? they're separated but still see each other around town) tops the list, not for refusing the DNA swab, though that's reason for pause, but because he pulled a bag out of his closet and began washing the clothes in it, right down to the soles of the shoes. Hmm?
Also, smarmy kid running the fishing line manufacturer, acting like heir to a throne (made of fishing net). Someone slap him, please.
Ellie asks Beth to nudge Trish in the direction of giving her statement, even though Trish isn't ready. Then Hardy makes the decision for everyone by demanding Trish get down to the station at 4:00. I think the acting here is brilliant, btw. The tug of war between wanting to be compassionate and needing to find the rapist before he can strike again is both subtle and palpably tense. I also had a moment in which I felt like Hardy was angry, not just about the urgency of the case, but about being a man forced to deal with what another man had done to a woman. (Angry at the rapist, mind, not at having to do his job. Angry and maybe a little guilty by association with his gender.) I'm not sure I'm explaining that well, but again, it's such a subtle thing but done so well. It's why I love this show.
What else? Maggie hates what's happening to her little newspaper, and then she's told that they're closing the Broadchurch office anyway and taking the paper in a more regional direction. "Redefining 'local'" they said. I can see both sides of this. Newspapers don't sell like they used to. People go online or to the telly for news. Crying, "It's an institution!" won't save things. But, cute as the kittens were, they shouldn't have been the lead. Sure, put the picture on the front page, but then direct readers to page six or eight or whatever.
It occurs to me that I sort of miss getting a newspaper . . .
And Paul is mad, too, because no one goes to church any more. Or they only go when something is wrong, never when times are good. Church has become a kind of last resort when one is desperate.
There's a lot of social commentary in this show. But for the millionth time, it's done so well, I don't even mind.
Finally, that little pissant Harford runs off to . . . was it her dad? Anyway, she's related to the guy who owns the store Trish works in, and after being told not to talk about the case, of course she does just that. Well, we assume she does. We don't see the conversation, so we can't know what she said.
Sum total of all that occurs in this episode: Trish is sent a threatening text from an unknown caller telling her to shut up.
Dun dun DUN.
Seriously, though, I do love this show. I'll be sorry when it's well and truly over, but at the same time it's not the kind of thing I'd want to see them drag on indefinitely. Better to end while you're on top. *sob*