Christ, what was that? Something hit me from the side and I'm down on the floor before I know what's happened. I try to stand up quickly, my heart thumping in my chest. Liz grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. I don't want any trouble tonight. I'm not good at dealing with confrontation. I really don't want any trouble.
'Sorry, mate,' an over-excited and half-drunk fan shouts at me. He's holding two (now) half-empty drinks in his hands and I can tell from his blurred and directionless eyes that he's off his face on drugs or booze or both. We're standing close to the mixing desk and there's a carpet-covered bump running along the floor next to us which protects the power cables I think. Looks like this idiot has tripped up the step and gone flying. He mumbles something about being sorry again and then staggers off deeper into the crowd.
'You all right?' Liz asks, wiping splashes of drink from my shirt.
'Fine,' I answer quickly. My heart's still beating at ten times its normal speed. Relieved, I pull Lizzie towards me and wrap my arms around her. Having her next to me makes me feel safe. It's not often we're able to be this close anymore. That's the price you pay for having too many kids too quickly in a flat that's too small. Funny how we can stand in a room with the best part of a thousand strangers and have less chance of being interrupted than at home with just three children.
Lizzie turns round and lifts herself up onto tiptoes to speak to me again.
'Think Dad's okay?' she asks.
'Why shouldn't he be?' I yell back.
'I worry that he thinks we're taking advantage of him. He's already there looking after Josh most days now and he's there again tonight with all three of them. It's a lot to ask. He's not getting any younger and I think he's starting to get fed up of it.'
'I know he is. He had a go at me before we left.'
'What did he say?'
How much do I tell her? Harry and I don't get on but we try and stay civil for Lizzie's sake. He was not at all happy tonight but I know he wouldn't want Lizzie to worry about it.
'Nothing much,' I answer, shrugging my shoulders, 'he just grumbled something about him seeing more of the kids than I do. He made some bad joke about Josh calling him Daddy instead of me.'
'He's trying to wind you up. Just ignore him.'
'He's always trying to wind me up.'
'It's just his age.'
'That's a crap excuse.'
'Just ignore him,' she says again.
'It doesn't bother me,' I shout, lying and trying to save her feelings. The truth is Harry is seriously beginning to piss me off and it's getting to the point where I can see us coming to blows.
'So what did you say to him?'
'I just told him how we appreciate what he does for us and reminded him that it's been at least four months since you and I last went out together on our own.'
'He's just trying to get you to react…' she starts to say. She stops speaking and turns around quickly when the lights suddenly fade. The crowd erupts into life as the members of the band walk through the shadows and step out onto the stage. After a few seconds delay the music starts and I forget about Harry and everything else.
This is the fourth time I've seen The Men They Couldn't Hang. It's been a couple of years since I last saw them and it's great to see them again. I've been looking forward to tonight since I booked the tickets a couple of months ago. I never get enough of the adrenaline rush of hearing good music played live and played loud like this. Hearing these songs again snatches me out of the day to day and helps me forget all the things I usually waste my time worrying about. I hold Lizzie close. As long as the music's playing I don't have to do anything except listen, relax and enjoy myself.
Six or seven songs in now - not sure exactly how many - and this place is really alive. The hall is packed and there's a brilliant atmosphere here. Swill plays the opening notes to one of my favourite tracks and I recognise it instantly, way ahead of most of the crowd. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I squeeze Lizzie tighter. She knows just how much I love this.
They've really hit their stride now and it's like they've never been away. Hearing this music again brings back so many memories. I remember the first time I heard this song on the radio just after I passed my driving test. I'd just brought my first car. It was an old heap that cost more to insure than it did to buy and me and a few mates had gone down to…
Swill has stopped playing.
Strange. He was strumming his guitar and singing but he's just stopped. The rest of the band have carried on without him. It's like he's forgotten where he is and what he's supposed to be doing. He's let go of his guitar and it's hanging by the strap around his neck now, swinging from side to side. This guy has just spent the last forty minutes playing and singing his heart out but now he's just standing completely still centre stage, head bowed and staring at the microphone in front of him. Has he forgotten the words? Bloody hell, he's been doing this for long enough. Surely it can't be stage fright or anything like that? Is there a technical problem? Maybe he's ill? The rest of the music continues for a few bars longer. One by one the rest of the band realise that something's wrong. The lead guitarist has stopped now, and he's staring at Swill trying to work out what the hell's going on. McGuire, the bass player, comes to a faltering stop just leaving the drummer to pound out a few more empty and unaccompanied beats before he stops too. Now Lizzie, me, the rest of the band and the entire audience are staring at the slowly swaying figure of Swill standing awkwardly in the spotlight.
The crowd doesn't like it. For a few seconds there's been an uneasy quiet but now the audience is beginning to turn. People are shouting out insults and there's a slow handclap starting. I've got no idea what's wrong. It makes me feel nervous. Just wish something would happen…
I think he's about to walk off. Swill takes a couple of steps back and then stops. Now he's taken hold of his guitar and he's swung it round his head so that it's no longer hanging round his neck. He's standing still again now, looking around the stage, oblivious to the jeers and shouts from the hundreds of people who are staring at him and yelling at him to get on with it and start playing. Cush starts to approach him and now Swill moves. He suddenly bursts into life and moves quickly and unexpectedly to his left. Holding the guitar by its neck he swings it around again, now gripping it like a weapon. He lunges towards Simmonds, the lead guitarist, and swings the instrument round once more, catching him full on the side of this head. Simmonds tried to lift his hand to block the blow but the attack was so quick and unexpected that he wasn't able to properly defend himself. The force of the impact has sent him reeling back into the drum kit, clutching his jaw. But that's not the end of it. Swill is standing over him now and he's started smashing the guitar down on him again and again. Bloody hell, he's hitting him so hard that the wooden instrument has begun to splinter and smash. I don't understand. Maybe they had an argument before they came on stage or something like that? This guy has always made a big deal out of the fact that he's a pacifist. Now look at him! What the hell did Simmonds do to deserve this? McGuire is trying to separate them now...