Isle of Waves (13 page)

Wig hesitated to admit that he was scared shitless of what would happen next. “I do, but if it does them a favor and us, it does us all good.”

“I’ll ask, but maybe they’ll want some time to themselves. Liam is looking better.”

“He is.” Wig had noticed that Liam had looked much more like himself over the last few days. “I think he’d live on the island if he could. Sam says he doesn’t like London very much. He seems to come alive by the sea.”

“I don’t think he likes London either. Of course, there’s no reason why they can’t live here. Sam’s job isn’t dependent on being in one area. Sam would miss living near his family, but it’s not like he’s that far away, and he’s closer to Rose.”

“Liam needs to find a job first.”

“Is he well enough to work? He gets tired very quickly.”

“All the more reason for them to move here.”

Wig looked at Nibs. “I get the feeling you’ve been thinking again without discussing it with me.”

“I don’t stop thinking just because I promised not to pull away from you,” Nibs said irritably. “I have been thinking about Liam and Sam a lot. I can see Liam’s struggling and that he’s much better on the island. I was going to talk to you about offering them the use of our guest room for a while—I want our bedroom back—and maybe Liam can work for us. We could pay him for the hours he works. Sam can have the use of the office. If we sell up, then it won’t be for long, but it would be like rehabilitation for Liam.” He stopped abruptly.

Wig could tell Nibs was holding his breath, waiting for his response.

“Have you spoken to them about it?” he asked.

“Not yet. I wanted to speak to you first.”

Wig pursed his lips. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“You do?”

“Yep.”

“I thought you’d hate it. I know you hate people being around all the time.”

“I think we need support, and it’s not forever,” Wig said. “Paul and Skandik have to go home, but Liam and Sam may put the neighbors off.”

Nibs gathered him into a hug. “You surprise me every day.”

“Because I didn’t throw a hissy fit?” Wig didn’t know whether to be offended.

“Because we think the same way.” Nibs buried his face in Wig’s neck.

Wig huffed because he had the feeling Nibs really meant the first, but he wasn’t going to get into a row about it. He loved cuddling up with his man far too much. He leaned back against Nibs and enjoyed the closeness. “We ought to go back soon.” He knew the reluctance was clear in his voice.

“Another five minutes. I’m not sure I want to see what a mess they made of my kitchen.”

“Steve wouldn’t dare. He knows you’d go ballistic if it was left untidy.” Nibs’s temper was legendary, in his own kitchen. Behind his back, Steve called him the Gordon Ramsey of scampi and chips. Wig had agreed never to tell him as long as Steve kept him in chocolate truffles. The man had a delicate touch with desserts that Nibs did not possess.

“Oh fuck!”

Wig raised his head at Nibs’s hissed profanity. “What’s the matter?”

“Look who’s walking towards us.”

Wig glanced over his shoulder to see Ghuram and Khalil Sawar negotiating the elderly tourists. The enjoyment drained out of the day as he saw that they were heading toward them. He straightened up, but Nibs refused to let go of him.

“Stay where you are,” Nibs ordered.

“You are joking.” Wig wriggled, but Nibs’s arms were clamped across Wig’s chest. He subsided when he realized he was making a prat of himself in front of their archnemesis.

“Gentlemen, what can we do for you?” Nibs said, obviously going on the offensive.

Ghuram had a disgusted sneer on his face, but Khalil smiled at them.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tyler, Mr. Tobias. It’s a lovely afternoon. Seems hard to believe they’re predicting a storm tomorrow.”

Khalil spoke excellent English with a slightest trace of a lilt. Wig had heard on the grapevine that the man had a first in economics from Oxford, or maybe it was Cambridge.

“The calm before the storm,” Nibs said. “We’re taking advantage of the good weather whilst our friends are staying.”

“How long are they staying for?” Khalil asked.

“A few days,” Wig said.

“I’m sorry to hear of the troubles you’ve been having. It is a shame we have a criminal element in Sandown.”

Wig had to repress the urge to roll his eyes, and Nibs gave a derisive snort. Wig had to admit the guy had balls. If he was concerned about the criminal element, then he should start with his own family. He watched as Khalil and Ghuram conducted an unspoken conversation with their eyes, and to his amusement, he saw Ghuram submit.

“I want to assure you the recent trouble had nothing to do with us,” Ghuram said. “The police visited us, but it is not the way we operate.”

“Whereas telling potential customers that they’ll gets AIDS from eating at our restaurant is?” Nibs asked sharply. “Destroying our custom so you can buy us out cheaply is your modus operandi?”

“I understand things may have got out of hand,” Khalil said smoothly. “I have spoken sharply to my brother about this, because this is not acceptable.”

“You mean if it gets out it could affect your political career,” Wig snapped. He expected Khalil to deny it, but the man just inclined his head.

“Quite. However, I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”

“You mean we move out of the Lagoon?”

“I’m sure you can see why we want your place,” Ghuram said heatedly.

Nibs nodded. “From a business point of view it makes perfect sense, Mr. Sawar.”

“So why won’t you accept our offer?”

“Because we’ve been there a decade, and you tried to murder us to get your own way.”

Ghuram shook his head vigorously. “We had nothing to do with that. As my brother said, we may have indulged in—” He looked at his brother. “—underhanded tactics to drive you out, but we are not murderers. We told your police that.”

“You mean there is someone else who wants us gone?” Wig didn’t try to hide his skepticism.

“Why are you here, talking to us?” Nibs asked when deathly silence followed Wig’s question.

Khalil coughed, clearing his throat. “We have a proposition to put to you.”

“Does it involve us moving out?”

Ghuram nodded. “But we have a property close by that you could take over. It’s a good location, but we can’t expand like we can here.”

“In a prime position on the seafront?”

“Let us show you,” Khalil said.

“We’ll consider it, on two conditions,” Nibs said.

“What’s that?”

Wig could see the brothers’ surprise at Nibs’s easy capitulation.

“You leave us alone until the end of the season, and any move—
if
it happens—you pay the full price for the property, the moving costs of starting again, plus additional costs for trying to destroy us. We’ll want it all in writing.”

Again there was that conversation, eyeball to eyeball, between the brothers.

“I’m sure we can come to some arrangement,” Khalil said. “We’ll talk at the weekend after the storm. I’m sure we’ll have our hands full until then. Good day.”

The brothers walked away. Before Wig or Nibs could speak, Nibs’s phone rang. “It’s Paul,” he said to Wig. “Yep?”

Wig leaned against the railings waiting for Nibs to finish the call. He didn’t bother to listen in, parsing over the conversation with the Sawars. What bothered him wasn’t Nibs’s tacit agreement that they would move. They’d come to that decision anyway, and the thought of a beach shack was becoming more appealing by the second. He wasn’t sure why Nibs even wanted to look at another place on the island, but he guessed it was all business tactics. It was Khalil’s denial that they had broken in and tried to set the place on fire. No one would be stupid enough to admit to attempted murder, but they’d looked totally genuine as they denied responsibility. On the other hand, Wig was a crap judge of character. They could be lying through their teeth and he wouldn’t know.

“Rose is feeling unwell, and Mattie wants the boys to go over there. I said we’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” Nibs said as he disconnected the call.

“Is it serious?” Wig was genuinely fond of the old girl, despite, or maybe because of, her acerbic tongue.

“He doesn’t know, but Mattie doesn’t send the flags up unless it’s necessary.” Nibs held out his hand. “Shall we go?”

“You’re not normally so touchy-feely in public,” Wig said.

“After this week everyone can go hang,” Nibs said. “We deserve to be as happy together in public as any other couple. It’s not like they knew we were gay.”

“Babe, have you seen me?” Wig was under no illusion that he could pass as straight, and he’d never tried. “I don’t think anyone without a white stick could think I’m straight. And we cuddle, we kiss, we hold hands. I’m pretty sure they’ve worked out you’re gay as well.”

“Well, then.” Nibs huffed impatiently. “Let’s get back before Paul starts ringing again.”

Wig tucked his hand in Nibs’s, and they walked off the pier toward the Lagoon.

T
HE
RESTAURANT
was almost full, and Nibs rushed into the kitchen immediately. Since the phone call, it had been decided Sam would go to Rose’s. Liam would run him over there and then come back to the restaurant. No one in his right mind would let Sam behind the wheel of a car.

With the expertise borne of years of experience, Wig took over the restaurant, checking on each table.

Ben rushed by with three children’s meals. “Glad you’re back, boss.”

Wig smiled at him sweetly. “Glad to be here.” And it was true. With a full house, he was happy to be working again.

When he had a moment to breathe, he wandered over to Paul. “We’re really busy. Did Sam stalk the promenade again?”

Paul nodded. “Everything was calm and quiet, then he rushes in with a party of ten. They brought in more people, and before we knew it, the place was full.”

“Why the hell didn’t you call?”

“Because we didn’t need you until Mum phoned. I’m used to dealing with crowds, so I worked the door and took the orders. Ben is the best waiter I’ve ever met, by the way. Liam kept the tables clear and the drinks flowing. Sam tiggered like mad and then helped Skandik and Steve, who, I kid you not, did not take a breath.”

Tears prickled at the back of Wig’s eyes, and he blinked furiously. “You’re all really kind.”

Paul patted his shoulder. “You’ve been through a hard time this year. You should have called me or Col.”

“Nibs did call Col. He was busy with his new girlfriend.”

Paul’s eyes hardened. “I’m going to have words with him.”

Wig shrugged. “It’s not like he could help or anything.”

“He could have told me. We could have stopped it before it went this far.” Paul was actually spluttering.

“We haven’t told you about this afternoon, have we?”

Wig was about to tell him more when a woman smiled at him hopefully. “Could we have more coffee?”

“Certainly, madam.” Wig brought over the coffee pot and filled two cups. “What about you two?” He smiled at the children. “Do you want a refill? If that’s all right with Mum?”

The children begged and pleaded, and Mum gave in, although she shot a sharp look at Wig. “When they’re bouncing off the walls at eleven o’clock tonight, I’ll send them your way.”

“You’re welcome,” Wig said, grinning before he walked away.

“Two more refill Cokes, please, Liam. Oh, you’re back.”

Liam nodded. “Just got back.”

“How is Rose?”

“She doesn’t look good. Her chest is playing up, and the GP is talking about getting her into hospital.”

“Poor Rose. She’s another one who’s had a rough year.”

“She seemed so invincible when I first met her.” Liam handed over the drinks with a sigh.

“You can go back there if you want. We can cope. Hold on.”

Wig took the drinks to the table and promised the kids an extra scoop of ice cream if they finished their dinner. He went back to Liam as quickly as he could.

“Thanks, Wig, but I’m only in the way. Rose wanted Sam there. You know how he’s her favorite.”

“I think she loves you more than the rest of them, except perhaps Paul.”

Liam managed to crack a smile. “I’d agree with that. I’ll clear the tables. When things calm down, I’ll call Sam.”

“She’ll be fine, Liam. Rose is a tough old bird. She’ll outlive everyone.”

Liam tried to smile, but it was a poor attempt. “I can’t lose her yet. She’s really important to me. She and Sam saved me after Alex. I never told anyone this, but I was thinking of throwing myself off the pier after I’d thrown Alex’s ashes. I just couldn’t complete the damn job—either of them.”

Wig felt his eyes widen. “What? Damn, why do you have to tell me this
now
? You are not going anywhere, mister, without talking to me.” He saw a man waving at him. “But later, when we get a chance to breathe.”

“Four refills of coffee at table four, please, Liam,” Ben said as he rushed by.

“Coming right up.” Liam smiled at Wig nervously. “Don’t tell Sam what I told you.”

“My lips are sealed. But you talk to me, hey?”

Liam nodded and took the coffee pot to table four, while Wig went off to deal with the customer who was doing a good impression of a windmill trying to attract Wig’s attention.

The restaurant was busy until closing, and Wig shut the door behind the last one with a grateful sigh.

“If Sam was drumming up trade every day, we’d have to ask the girls to come back.”

“Why don’t you get them back and let me charm the customers?” Ben said. “You never know, we might finish the season on a high.”

“I’ll talk to Nibs tonight,” Wig promised. “We need as many days as we can get to make up for a duff season.”

“I’ll talk to Steve. He loves playing to the crowd.”

“He does?” Wig asked doubtfully.

“He’s stuck in the kitchen all day, but he’s a born performer.”

Wig shook his head in disbelief. He’d known Ben and Steve for years, but he never knew that about quiet Steve.

Nibs came out with a platter of food. “Help yourselves, guys.” He leant over the counter to kiss Wig. “Good evening?”