19
There was no answer when he knocked the door, so he thought he'd try the doorbell instead.
He used his forefinger to press the silver button and took a step back, patiently waiting for the owner to open the door.
"Ianto, wait it might not be a good idea to …"
He only waited seconds before trying the doorbell again, and this time the door opened.
Ianto was greeted by a man in his fifties. The man had a grey beard, wore glasses, and a large belly hung over his belt.
"My goodness," said the man, who looked aghast. "You look soaked. Come in."
"Thank you." Ianto stepped inside, ditching the tyre iron outside.
The man shut the door and looked the three men up and down. "Where's your car? Did you park at the side of the house?"
"I..." Ianto decided to refrain from telling the owner his story for fear of being thrown out.
"We broke down a mile or so away." Jack smiled softly.
"You poor things." He then took a step back and eyed their clothes. "You're going to have to get a shower. We've got some spare clothes in the back room."
He held up his hand and called out, "Angela!"
"What is it, love?" The female voice came from upstairs.
"I want you to take care of someone while I get the guests their drinks." He then turned to Ianto. "We only have three guests with us. We have plenty of room, if you need to stay the night."
"That'd be great." Ianto began scratching his head and admitted, "My friends and family back in my SUV."
The man gave off a thin smile, but there was suddenly some concern in his face. "We can sort that out."
"I'll go back and lead them here, you get things situated" Jack said softly accepting a good touch Ianto's arm and he nodded to show that he was OK as Owen looked up the stairs.
Angela appeared on the top of the stairs. She looked the same height as Ianto, five-eight, was a thin woman with short grey hair. She smiled and shook her head at Ianto like his mother used to when he was a child, and said, "Right; take your shoes off and come upstairs. Get yourself in the shower."
She then shook her head and added, "Those clothes need to go in the bin."
The gentleman of the guesthouse introduced himself as Christopher Horton, and then told Ianto that his wife would sort him out and he then disappeared.
Ianto noticed that Christopher had an annoying grunt before starting some of his sentences, but he appreciated his generosity.
Owen followed Christopher, asking about rooms and Ianto followed Angela as it appeared he was first for the shower then.
Angela gave Ianto a black bin liner to put his wet clothes in and told him that he can take them home in the morning, but the couple didn't know what had really happened, and Ianto didn't want to say anything in case they thought he was crazy.
The last thing he needed was to jeopardise his bed for the night, although guilt did plague his mind a little, knowing that those things were out there and Christopher and Angela had no idea.
Jack had squeezed his hand, a fold of paper left as he pulled away to leave and now Inaot opened it to read in the ofety of the bathroom.
We'll tell them in the morning. Whether they believe me or not, we'll tell them the truth in the morning.
Ianto nodded as note was folded and he knew that his story would be frowned upon and would sound like a terrible tale to get out of paying for the room, but he was going to worry about that in the morning. Jack and Owen there would help, and the babies would be sure to gain some credits … right?
He was pretty sure that sleep would be something he was going to struggle with on this particular night, but at least he wasn't spending the night outside, in the rain, with those things out there...somewhere.
He thanked Angela for her hospitality and went into the bathroom, shut the door behind him and stripped.
His clothes were sodden and he wrung out each piece of clothing in the sink before putting them in the black bag. He then stepped into the shower and felt the glorious hot jets hit his face.
Heaven.
He spent ten minutes in the shower and broke down for a couple of minutes.
He could have spent longer but he didn't want them thinking he was taking liberties, and dried himself off with the brown towel.
Ianto looked in the bathroom's full-length mirror. He puffed out a sigh, and although he had more pressing matters to be concerned about, he didn't like what he saw.
Ianto continued to glare in the mirror and then a voice could be heard from downstairs, which made Ianto snap out of his daydreaming.
"Quick! Come quickly!" The voice called from downstairs. It sounded like Christopher Horton.
Ianto was unsure whether Christopher was talking to him, his wife, the guests, or that he was beckoning everyone. "You have to see this! Jesus Christ. Oh Lord, help us!"
Ianto had that sinking feeling that Christopher already knew the truth now.