Free Die Hard Mod by Charlie McQuaker

you can just switch off and appreciate the simple things… I think I’ve understood for the first time why people turn to Diazepam and shit like that… ‘
    ‘Well let’s just stick to booze, boss. One more round? It’s my shout.’
    While Bobby was at the bar, Steve looked at all the carefree young people enjoying a Saturday afternoon drink. Practically all of them looked healthily middle-class and trendy and he reckoned that the worst trauma any of then would have been through was mummy and daddy not getting funds into their bank account quick enough for their next term at ‘Uni’.
    He overheard the group at the next table loudly enthusing about Eddie Izzard’s latest DVD and quoting lines from it. He felt like shouting ‘shove yer smug, whimsical, self-conscious English bullshit right up yer fuckin’ holes’ but he managed to stop himself.
    When Bobby brought the pints back to the table he could see the look of contempt on Steve’s face.
    ‘C’mon boss,’ he whispered. ‘They’re harmless enough… live and let live ‘n all’.
    Steve looked slightly ashamed.
    ‘Yeah, you’re right. If I start losin’ sight of stuff like that I’m lettin’ bastards like Trevor and Cubitt rule the day.’
    Steve clinked glasses with Bobby.
    ‘Cheers mate. Here’s to peace, love and understanding, eh?’

 
    24
     
    Back at work, the hard graft made Steve feel more upbeat. There had been no sign of Anthony Cubitt since their initial encounter and later in the week, he overheard one of the builders saying that the ‘Ace Face’ had just flown over to Paris and was going to be there for a week working on the new hotel project. This made Steve feel a little more at ease but there was still the nagging worry that someone might have seen him with Jeanie and blabbed about it. In particular, he worried that the girls she’d been with at the Hanbury might be embroiled with Cubitt too.
    When the weekend came, Bobby was keen to hook up with Helen and although they had a few pints together after work on Friday, by Saturday night, Steve found himself alone in the flat while Bobby had been invited round to his new girl’s flat for dinner. Come Sunday morning, loneliness was creeping in. Steve tried to keep himself occupied with Sunday papers and TV but the temptation to ignore Bobby’s advice to keep away from Jeanie was proving too much when he knew he could see her again if he just got himself over to Madeira Drive by three o’clock .
    By lunchtime he was truly bored with the papers and when he switched on the TV to find the Eastenders omnibus edition about to start, the lure of meeting Jeanie became irresistible.
    The sun was shining and as he walked along Western Road , Steve looked through the windows of the restaurants and cafes full of smiling, contented faces. He was beguiled by Brighton life but wondered if he’d ever truly feel part of it. Outside Waitrose, the same beggar who’d been there the night he got mugged was playing a tin whistle badly and Steve chucked him another couple of quid. ‘Good for the oul’ karma, as the hippies say,’ he thought.
    When he reached the seafront via West Street , the promenade was choc-a-bloc with day-trippers and on Madeira Drive , Steve felt a glow of pride when he saw a cavalcade of Mods imperiously glide past on their gleaming scooters. Outside Volks Tavern, a few other Mods had parked up and were standing around chatting and smoking. Some of the middle-aged ones looked a bit ridiculous sporting haircuts and tight-fitting clothes more suited to skinny teenagers but there were younger converts too and seeing excitable-looking, fresh-faced kids being as sharp and immaculately-dressed as the original 60s innovators made Steve smile. Mingling with the Mods was a bunch of hairy, beer-drinking bikers standing next to their pristine Triumphs and Harley Davidsons. The atmosphere was genial, as if a shared love of two-wheeled transport had finally superseded the violent rivalry