Isle of Waves (17 page)

“Tell her I have some clean brand-new clothes she can wear. I bought them for a relative. They might be a little big, but they’ll do for tonight. Your father can borrow some jogging bottoms and a sweater.”

Giving a short nod, Ghuram turned back to his mother, gesturing to Wig again.

“If your mother will come with me, I’ll get the clothes.”

Mrs. Sawar looked at him doubtfully, but she allowed Wig to lead her up the stairs and into their large bathroom. He held up his hand to stay her shutting the door, and lit the candles in the bathroom. Then he went into the bedroom and dug out the clothes.

Wig handed her the clothes and pointed to the lounge. “I’ll be in there.” He wasn’t sure how much she understood, but she nodded and closed the bathroom door. He took the opportunity to dash into the bedroom and change himself, and then he dug out as many T-shirts, sweaters, and jogging bottoms as he could find for everyone else. It didn’t matter what they looked like as long as they were dry.

“Ben!” He yelled down the stairs.

“Yes, boss?”

“Take these and distribute them out. I want everyone in dry clothes.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Ha-ha, fucker. And tell Nibs to crank up the heating.”

“’Kay. Everyone’s got a drink except you. What do you want?”

“Tea, please. I’ll be down in a tick.”

Ben vanished back downstairs with the clothes, and Wig waited patiently for Mrs. Sawar to come out of the bathroom.

She came out, clutching her wet clothes to her chest. Wig took her downstairs and showed her where to lay her clothes over the radiator, and Ghuram brought her tea.

She spoke to her son, who looked at Wig.

“She says you’re very kind.”

Wig gave her a short bow. “It’s my pleasure. I’m going to get a drink; I’ll be back in a moment.”

In the kitchen, Liam and Sam were pouring tea into mugs.

“Is one of those mine?” Wig asked.

“Sure is. Take any one.”

Wig took a mug and sipped gratefully. Despite the dry clothes, he was chilled to the bone. “You need to change, Sam.”

“I keep telling him that,” Liam said, sounding resigned.

“I’ll go now.” Taking one of the mugs, Sam escaped before either of them could nag him anymore.

“How are you doing?” Wig asked.

Liam looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because you look like shite.”

“Thanks,” Liam said drily. “You know how to make a man feel good about himself.”

“It’s a knack. Now answer the question.”

Liam huffed out a breath. “I feel like shite, okay? I’m tired. I’m always tired these days.”

“Have you been checked out?”

Liam gave Wig an incredulous look. “Have you met my husband? It’s hard enough to draw breath without him asking how I am.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“It’s the trauma of the accident and the major surgery. It could take up to a year for me to recover, yada yada. I’d better hand these over to Nibs and the boys.”

“You can go to bed, you know. None of us are going to mind.” Wig was taken aback by the fierce look on Liam’s face.

“I mind. I’m sick of being so weak.”

“Liam, in the past few years you’ve nursed and buried your best friend, uprooted yourself halfway across the world, suffered a serious accident in which you were left for dead, and married into the Owens family. Any of that would be more than most people could handle. And we still need to talk about that little revelation on the pier.”

“When you put it like that….”

“Go easy on yourself, doll.”

Liam looked at Wig. “What about you?”

“Me?” Wig sipped his drink to play for time. “I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown, thanks for asking.”

“That’s all right, then. As long as it’s only the verge.” Liam grinned at him.

Nibs poked his head around the door. “Liam, can you make some more drinks?”

“I’ll do it,” Wig said, ignoring Liam’s scowl. “Liam needs to sleep.”

“Traitor.”

“Take those through to the others. What am I making, Nibs?” Wig gently pushed Liam out of the way.

“Three more teas, two coffees, and a hot chocolate.”

“With or without poison?” Wig asked brightly.

“That comes later.”

R
EINFORCING
W
IG
’
S
demand, Sam had sent Liam upstairs, despite his loud protests, and frog-marched him to bed.

Flushed and tousled, Sam returned fifteen minutes later, despite Nibs’s insistence that he didn’t need to return.

It was close on 3:00 a.m. before they all got back to bed. Khalil had braved the storm to collect his family, and they’d departed, promising to return the clothes the next day. Wig hoped so, because he and Nibs were going to be short on casual clothes if they didn’t. Mrs. Sawar kissed Wig on the cheek before she left, and the cousins had shaken their hands, still not looking them in the eye. Wig found them creepy. At least Ghuram was an arsehole to their face.

The power hadn’t been restored, but none of them cared at that point.

“We’ll help you with the sofa bed,” Wig said, lighting one of the candles.

Steve yawned. “’S’okay. We’re fine.”

Yawning in sympathy, Wig managed, “All right, we’ll leave you to it.”

“What time are we opening tomorrow?”

“Sevenish depending on the power. Nibs and I’ll open up if we can. Take your time.”

“Thanks, boss.” Steve shut the lounge door behind him.

Sam disappeared upstairs after saying good night, and Wig followed Nibs into their bedroom.

“I ought to check the doors,” Nibs said.

“Do you really think they are going to play silly buggers tonight? Let ’em come.”

“’Kay.” Nibs yawned so wide his jaw cracked.

Wig winced as Nibs rubbed his jaw. “That sounded painful.”

“It was. We’re going to need to get the roof checked to see if it’s done any damage to our property.”

“Tomorrow. That’s tomorrow’s job. Jesus, what a day.” Wearily, Wig rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted but psyched up at the same time.

Nibs gave another jaw-cracking yawn. “I keep thinking this week can’t get any stranger, and then it does.”

“People will never stay with us again.”

“After this week I don’t care if we never have another guest. Just you and me, babe.” Nibs yawned and spooned around Wig.

Falling asleep in Nibs’s arms was usually as easy as the split second between one heartbeat and the next, but Wig stayed awake for a while thinking about the Sawars. Something had bothered him during the evening, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He fell asleep eventually, lulled by Nibs’s snores and the rain outside.

T
HE
POWER
hadn’t been restored the next morning, so Wig stuck a note in the window and went back to bed for another couple of hours. He woke again at nine o’clock to the sound of someone banging on the back door.

Nibs raised his head, blinking sleepily. “Huh, was goin’ on?”

“No idea. I’ll go and find out.”

Grabbing his robe, Wig grumbled under his breath all the way downstairs and opened the back door. Jim and Mattie stood there.

“I’m sorry, we thought you’d be up by now,” Mattie said.

“No power,” Wig said, leading the way through to the restaurant. It was a mess of towels and discarded clothing.

“What happened here?” Mattie asked.

“A pole came down on next door’s roof.”

“God, was anyone hurt?”

“No, but it’s made a mess of their place. The water tank crashed through the ceiling.” Wig flicked the light switch experimentally. Still nothing. “We had them in here until family arrived.”

“Do you want me to get some drinks from around the corner,” Jim asked. “They’re open.”

“That sounds good. Let me go and ask the others what they want. You probably know Liam and Sam’s order.”

“Liam will want coffee and Sam, tea.”

Wig hummed. “Latte for me and Nibs, and two cappuccinos for the boys. I’ll find you some money.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a full house here, haven’t you?”

“Yep. Excuse me a minute.” Wig scurried back up the stairs as quickly as he could, uncomfortable at being dressed in just a robe in front of Mattie.

Nibs, the bastard, was sound asleep again. Wig dressed in whatever he could find and rushed back down.

Mattie was making a heaped pile of towels. “Do you want to put these in the washing machine in the kitchen?”

“Yes, please. We’ll wash them when the power returns.” Wig waited until the washing machine was loaded before he asked, “How is Rose?”

Mattie looked away but not before he saw the gleam of tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mattie, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She tried to smile, her lips wobbling. “It’s okay. She’s in a coma now. They said she’s not going to come out of it.”

“I’m sorry, Mattie.”

“So am I. She’s been the best mother-in-law a girl could have.”

“I forget she’s your mother-in-law. I think of you as an Owens.”

“So do I, to be honest. She’s been my mother since the day we met.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

Mattie shook her head. “No. She died before I met Jim. I loved my mum, but she’d never have approved of Rose or her family.”

“Sam and Paul adore her.”

“They do. I would have worried about them, but at least they have their boyfriends now.”

“I can’t believe Paul and Olaf. They’re total opposites.”

Mattie smirked. “But you notice Olaf can shut Paul up with one look.”

“Just like Liam and Sam.” Wig smirked back.

“They’ve found good men.”

A knock at the back interrupted them. Wig opened it to find Jim juggling eight takeaway cups.

“You should have called,” Wig said. “I’d have come and helped you.”

“It’s not a problem. God gave me two hands and a chin.”

Wig relieved Jim of half the cups and took them into the kitchen. “I’ll take them upstairs so the boys can drink them hot. They’re more likely to surface with a hot drink.”

“I think your power’s come back on,” Mattie said. “I’ll get the washing going and cook breakfast for everyone.”

“Cool.”

“I’ll take the drinks to Liam and Sam,” Jim said and followed Wig upstairs.

Wig took a latte into his bedroom and leaned over to kiss Nibs on the mouth. “Wakey wakey, dragon breath. Time to shake your arse.”

Nibs grumbled and drooled onto the pillow.

“Nice. The power is back on, so move it. I have coffee.”

Nibs fumbled for the coffee without opening his eyes. “Gimme a minute.”

“Okay, but Mattie is cooking.”

“Oh God.”

Wig grinned and withdrew from the bedroom.

“That was cruel,” Jim said. “You know he hates other people cooking in his kitchen.”

“He has to live with it. Give me those two, then you can take the other two up to Liam and Sam.”

Steve and Ben were still asleep, wrapped around each other like little kids. A wry smile touched Wig’s lips. Sometimes they made him feel really old.

“Guys, coffee.”

Ben snorted and rubbed his nose.

“Coffee and breakfast. Hurry up.”

Wig left them to wake and went downstairs to drink his coffee. He knew they’d have to open up soon enough, but he wanted a short time to himself—well, if he could call another six people in the house “to himself.” As he passed the back door, someone knocked, and he opened it to see Ghuram Sawar holding two bags of clothes.

“I’m returning these to you. They’ve all been washed and ironed.”

“Your mother must have been up at the crack of dawn.” Wig meant it as a joke, but Ghuram took him seriously.

“She was very grateful for the respect you showed her.”

Wig nodded just as seriously. “Thank her from me. I am very grateful. Er… do you want to come in?”

“No, thank you. I just wanted to give you back the clothes.”

“Have you had the damage inspected?”

“The assessors are coming this morning.” Ghuram grimaced. “The restaurant will be closed for at least a couple of weeks.”

“I’m sorry,” Wig said, as sincerely as he could because the temptation to go “
Nahnahnahnahnah!
” was huge.

Ghuram nodded. “I must get back. We are clearing out the place.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? I thought the water tank came through the ceiling?”

“It’s secure for the moment.”

Wig hesitated, then said, “You are all welcome to come over for lunch. Now the power is back on, we will open soon.”

“You are a very forgiving man, Mr. Tobias,” Ghuram said softly. “My brother is giving us lunch, but I will not forget your kindness.” He turned to walk away and stopped. “I will find out who tried to harm you, and then I will report them to the police.”

Wig watched him walk away and shut the door, not sure what to make of the conversation. He was convinced that somehow the Sawars were tied up in all the recent trouble, but Ghuram and Khalil were making a vocal effort to distance themselves from the criminal activities.

“Have you been to the laundrette?” Nibs asked as he walked down the stairs.

“This is from Mrs. Sawar. She’s washed, ironed, and returned all the clothes.”