He stood up, his face scarlet with rage. ‘You fucking bitch,’ he snarled. ‘I’ll give you more than a broken hand, you jumped up cunt,’ he said before launching himself across the desk at her. Before Grace could reach for the golf club beside her, she saw Reuben being pulled back by the scruff of his neck like a dog on a lead.

‘Do you talk to your mother with that mouth, son?’ Ben McKinley said as his large frame came into view.

He winked at Grace who mouthed a thanks to him.

Reuben yelped in pain as Ben took his broken hand and forced him back into the chair. ‘Apologize to the lady,’ he said.

‘Fuck off,’ Reuben said, earning him a swift heel to his groin.

‘I said apologize,’ Ben growled.

Sensing he was beaten, and probably in for a good hiding, Reuben looked at Grace. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘Don’t you ever come anywhere near my pub again, you piece of shite,’ she said as she stood up.

‘Fortunately for you I’m not in the profession of mindless violence. If it had been any of the Carters who’d walked in here then you’d be eating through a straw for the rest of your days, lad,’ Ben said as he pulled Reuben to his feet. ‘Now you heard the lady, piss off.’

Just as Ben was about to push Reuben out of the door, Michael came bounding through it, breathing heavily and wild-eyed. ‘Marcus called and told me there was trouble,’ he panted.

Ben started to laugh. ‘Oh dear. Your day has just got a whole lot worse,’ he said to Reuben as he pushed him back down into the chair.

‘It’s handled. Just show this piece of crap out, will you?’ Grace said.

‘What’s handled?’ Michael asked.

‘This young tearaway was about to lamp Grace when I got here,’ Ben told him.

Michael glared at the intruder. ‘About to hit a woman? Someone should teach you some manners, lad.’ Then he turned to Ben. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ His gratitude for arriving in the nick of time and protecting Grace already forgotten.

‘Just here to discuss something with your boss, that’s all,’ Ben replied.

‘Such as?’

‘None of your fucking business,’ Ben snapped.

‘Michael,’ Grace said. ‘It’s fine. Just get rid of him, will you?’ She indicated to Reuben who winced in his chair. ‘Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Reuben,’ Grace said. ‘I mean out of my pub.’

Michael glared at Ben. ‘I’d rather see what this big oaf is here to see you about first.’

Ben bristled, and Grace felt the tension rising to an uncomfortable level. ‘Whatever it is, I can handle it on my own,’ Grace soothed, placing her hand on Michael’s arm. ‘Now please get him out of my sight.’

‘Yeah, let the adults talk now.’ Ben grinned.