Die Hard Mod by Charlie McQuaker

Steve, should have guessed you’d have turned up for a Mod night.’
    Steve’s heart sunk when he saw that a tall, sullen-looking rock ‘n roller in skinny jeans with a trilby hat perched on the back of his head was lingering alongside her. He looked a little familiar and Steve realised that he’d noticed him when he’d explored the North Laine area the day after his arrival in Brighton . At first glance he thought he’d spotted Pete Doherty hanging around at the entrance of a tattoo parlour with his bohemian chums, smoking a fag. Up close, Steve noticed the crow’s feet and flecks of grey hair. He may have been clad in teenage indie kid clothes but the guy had to be in his late thirties.
    ‘Steve, this is Rich. Remember I told you he used to be in a band with Bobby?’
    The two lads exchanged an awkward handshake and Steve felt sure that Rich was giving him a dirty look.
    ‘Bobby’s over there,’ said Steve, gesturing towards the area nearest the DJs. ‘You might find he’s a bit preoccupied though.’
    ‘Think I’ll go over and say hi anyway,’ said Rich. ‘The fucker’s owed me thirty quid for months. I’ll be back in a jiff, Sal.’
    He stroked Sal’s arm territorially before strolling purposefully towards his debtor.
    ‘He really fuckin’ wants that money, eh?’ said Steve.
    Sal smiled.
    ‘Yeah, tight bastard. Not one of his more endearing qualities. I’m sure I’d have ditched him eventually if he hadn’t ditched me first.’
    ‘Seems to me like you might be giving him another chance.’
    Sal looked at Steve apologetically.  
    ‘Steve, I really enjoyed the other night but it seemed to me that you weren’t gonna be around Brighton for long and you didn’t call me during the week so I just assumed you weren’t bothered.’
    ‘It’s been a mad week Sal and I’ve had a lot on my mind. I really did want to see you again, honest. So have I blown it then? What’s the crack with Rich?’
    Sal shook her head.
    ‘I dunno. I’ve still got feelings for him so when he called me out of the blue last night and asked if I fancied coming along to the Hanbury, I just said yes ‘cos I had nothing else on. Maybe if he can get over his weakness for impressionable 18-year-old art school chicks with a bad boy fixation, we might have a chance, you never know.’
    ‘You don’t really owe me an explanation Sal. I just hope he doesn’t mess you around.’
    Looking at her sweet face, Steve would have felt like kissing her again if he hadn’t seen Rich striding back from the dance-floor with an expression that seemed to confirm that he’d retrieved his thirty quid and was smug in the knowledge that he had a pretty girl’s company guaranteed for the night too.
    ‘C’mon Sal, lets get out of here,’ said Rich. ‘There’s a house party in Devonshire Place that’ll be a lot livelier than this place. They’ve set up decks and there’s loads of booze apparently.’
    ‘Free drink… your favourite two words in the English language, eh Rich? Alright then, let’s skedaddle.’
    Sal turned to Steve and gave him a peck on the cheek.
    ‘Hey, it was nice to see you, Steve. Hopefully see you around again sometime.’
    Rich put his arm around Sal and the pair walked off. Steve had hoped that Sal might make one last gesture to suggest that she was still interested in him and it was some consolation that she made a point of turning round to give him a parting smile as Rich held the exit door open for her.
    ‘Oh dear, boss, looks like you should struck when the iron was hot the other night.’
    Bobby had come up to the bar with his new conquest and was looking a lot more chipper than Steve was feeling.
    ‘Aye, the luck of the Irish seems to have deserted me tonight, Bobby. But hey, the bar’s still open. Fancy another wee swallee?’
    ‘Nah, you’re alright boss. Think me and Helen here are gonna hit the road.’
    The girl gave Steve a coy little wave by means of introduction.
    ‘Suit yerselves. I’m