Nibs was still asleep, and Wig had to wriggle out of Nibs’s arms, ignoring the annoyed grumble and the attempt to hold on to him. He headed for the bathroom, desperate for a shower and clean clothes. Clean and refreshed, finally rid of the dead mouse that had taken up residence in his mouth overnight, Wig dressed in tight black jeans and a lavender shirt and wandered downstairs only to walk into a conference of war in the lounge. The Owens family minus Paul and Skandik took up all the available space. He blinked and looked at them all. “Don’t you all have homes to live in?” “Good morning to you,” Rose said tartly. Wig waltzed over to where she was sitting and bent down to kiss her cheek. “Good morning, Rose darling. I don’t mean you, of course. You are more than welcome. What do the rest of you want?” “I’ll make you a cuppa,” Sam said. “It might cheer you up.” “An explanation would cheer me up.” “Mum and Dad wanted to see how you were,” Sam said.
