Beware the indirect objects of sub-clauses

This week, I’ve been working on a little piece of fiction. It’s about a young Englishman who visits Sri Lanka to try and find redemption for past sins of his family.

I’d just finished working on the following passage, and was quite happy with it, when I realised something was badly wrong with the last sentence.

***

Tendrils of mist coiled around the trees and buildings of Diyatalawa, creating haloes around the few lights that were on. The damp swirled around the car like horizontal rain. Anthony shivered, and pulled his jacket tight around him. Sunil, the driver, glanced at Anthony through the rear-view mirror, and turned the heat up to maximum. Anthony looked to his left. Reuben seemed comfortable enough, snug in his thick blanket and clutching a bottle of warm milk.

The town was just waking. A few men, their heads swathed in towel turbans to keep out the sodden chill, were walking languidly along the road’s narrow, uneven pavements. A group of children squatted around a tap on the roadside, brushing their teeth. They looked up and waved as the car passed. Reuben, wide awake and looking out of the window, pointed and said ‘boy! Boy!’

Anthony stopped the car to wind down the window. ‘Where does the mudalali live?’ he asked a man who was just opening his shop. Yawning, the man pointed down the road to a double-story house. The car continued slowly and drew up in front of the front door.

‘Sunil, please watch the child,’ Anthony said as he got out of the car. Sunil got into the back seat with Reuben. Reuben stared inquisitively at Sunil as he sucked contentedly on his bottle of milk.