‘He does, honestly. He needs another man to take him aside and talk some sense into him. Please?’
A tear welled up and hovered on her lower lid.
‘All right,’ Reuben said, every instinct in his body screaming against it. ‘Just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll come over.’
‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’ She wiped away her tear and rejoined the group.
Reuben waited a couple of minutes then wandered over.
‘And I’ll tell you another reason the Poms won’t win the Ashes this year,’ Wayne was saying, ‘it’s because all their players are arse-licking fairies.’ He jabbed the other man in the chest.
‘Now, just a minute, mate,’ the man said in a clipped British accent. He drew himself up, his face reddening.
‘Reuben, this is Tony and Jan,’ Jo butted in.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Jan said. ‘Come on,
