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featherweight with floppy black hair and a crew neck sweater. Dan turns on his stool. Even
    seated, he is virtually eye to eye with the twenty something chatterbox.
    “Are you talking to me?” He holds his attention with a fixed stare.
    “Yeah, you broke two fucking bones in my mate’s hand and he’s got it in plaster. He’s had to take
    time off work with it.” He holds up his hand like some kind of invalid.
    “And what the fuck do you want me to do about it? Kiss it better?” He returns to his drink, knowing
    his words will inflame his challenger.
    “You want to watch yourself mate, going around injuring people like that. You might get hurt
    yourself. You know what I’m saying?”
    Dan has to give it to him; he’s a brave little bastard. He stands. “Is that a threat? Because from
    where I’m sitting, it sounded like a threat?”
    Intimidated by Dan’s size and demeanour, the young man backs off and takes an actual step
    backwards. “No. I’m just saying. He’s in a bad way, that’s all.”
    Dan leans into him. “Well, he should learn to keep his fucking hands off ladies who don’t want to
    be mauled then, shouldn’t he?”
    “I s’pose. I’ll pass on your message.” The young man sips his drink and prepares to make a hasty
    retreat.
    Dan sits back down. “And send him my love, will you? Tell him to get better soon.”
    At that, one of his other ‘acquaintances’ takes offense and edges forward. Dan checks his watch,
    wanting to be long gone before Elise steps through the door. He finishes his drink and takes heavy,
    self-assured strides towards the door, purposely bumping into one of the group on route.
    Outside the air is damp and there is the smell of car fumes and autumn in the air. He decides to take
    a walk before going to his car which is, literally, yards away. The boys need time to regroup, plan their
    approach and launch an attack. He mutters under his breath, “Come on boys. I’ve not got all day.”
    Behind him, there’s the sound of hurried footsteps. When they stop, he turns and what a surprise!
    ‘The boys have decided to take a pop at old Danny boy.’ The idea of it makes him smile.
    “Hello, ladies. What can I do for you?” He folds his arms, egging them on.
    With the backing of his company, the dark haired spokesman goes for broke. “You can shut the
    fuck up for starters.” He swings a right handed punch at Dan and it misses by a mile, so much so he
    loses his balance and falls over, landing heavily on his arm.
    Dan swerves and doesn’t even bother to unfold his arms. “Please tell me you can do better than that,
    I’m catching a fucking chill out here.” He sneers at his own words.
    The tallest of the group edges towards Dan and lets loose; a barrage of right and left handed
    punches rain down on Dan but he’s mentally prepared, fired-up and is able to block each one with his
    forearms. In retaliation, he hits him with a single punch to the stomach and sends him flying across
    the pavement.
    Challenger number three moves forward and his feeble efforts are counter punched into next week.
    The two remaining contenders hold up their hands but Dan doesn’t believe in leaving a job half-
    finished and it’s the thought of the one that continues to get away that spurs him on. He’s not finished
    with these comedians yet. He lets a right hook fly and it connects with a chin. There’s the sound of
    breaking bone. Before the last man standing can run, he floors him with an uppercut that lifts him
    three feet off the pavement.
    He leaves five grown men writhing in agony on the pavement as he makes his way to his car.
    “Don’t forget to get better soon ladies,” he calls out, with no more than a cursory glance backwards.
    “Fucking amateurs.”

    3

    I hear a distant ringing sound: it’s my phone. “Hello,” I mumble, barely conscious.
    “ Hey, good morning sleepy head. Are you still in bed?” Charlie is wide awake.
    What time it?
    I glance at the bedside