Grace laughed. ‘Of course. I can close up here. You get off.’

He checked his watch. ‘Now? Are you sure?’

‘Yeah, go on. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of true love.’

‘True lust.’ He winked at her.

The last barmaid had left, and Grace was just about to bolt the heavy double doors when she felt someone push against them. The force propelled her backwards making her stumble.

Her first instinct was to wonder where her phone was, and how quickly could she get to it and phone Michael to get him round there as soon as possible. It was unusual for Patrick not to be there with her at closing time, but she’d encouraged him to have the night off. She could kick herself for that now though.

‘Hello Grace,’ Nathan said as he walked in and bolted the doors behind him.

She sighed. No need to call Michael then. ‘What the hell do you want at this hour?’

‘To talk.’ He glared at her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She’d seen far more of him than she’d have liked these past few months, but there was an edge to his voice tonight that she hadn’t heard in a long time. It made her heart race and her breath catch in her throat.

‘What about?’ she snapped, careful not to show him any weakness.

‘I know, Grace,’ he growled. ‘I know about it all.’

She swallowed. What did he know? He couldn’t possibly know everything. If he did then she was a dead woman.

‘What are you on about now?’ she said, glaring back at him. Looking him straight in the eye, trying to read him.

Brushing past her, he walked behind the bar and started to help himself to a generous measure of her best Scotch.

She followed him. ‘Start talking, Nathan.’

‘Or what? You’ll get one of your heavies to sort me out? Michael Carter, perhaps? You and him used to be fuckbuddies, didn’t you?’ he laughed.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Are you on something or what?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Perfectly sober. Well almost,’ he said as he downed the whisky in one.

Grace waited for him to talk, fighting the urge to ask him again what he was on about. She needed him to reveal his hand first. If she was going to figure a way out of her current predicament, she needed to know what he knew. It felt like an eternity before he spoke. An eternity in which she imagined every possible worst-case scenario. All the things she’d ever kept from him whizzed through her brain.

‘I know all about your business with the Carters,’ he said eventually. ‘I know all about your shady dealings, Grace. The insurance scams, the bootleg booze and ciggies. Even dabbling in drug dealing now, aren’t you? Supplying to half of Merseyside?’