Laura Brown

Laura Brown

Whoever you fuck on the way to the top
Will make you cry when you’ve arrived

So this one’s for Laura Brown
My first proper girlfriend

she had one of those faces
one of those horrible faces
Where the nose and chin seem determined to meet
I used to imagine they wanted to hide the thin-lipped grin
Yes, a bit grim
But she had something of Joyce’s Evelyn
‘Though I wouldn’t have known that back then

The muggy summer taped on the end of Year Ten
10 months of being on the receiving end
of taunts from a kid who liked to be called The Raz Man
You can imagine

And if you can’t
It was something along the lines
BIG GAY FACE! BIG GAY FACE!
That was my nickname
That’s what he called me
There we all were
Jozzer, Lozzer, Wozzer, Bazza, Gazza, Kligs, Johnny-Boy, Raz and me
THE BIG GAY FACE
And you can’t come back from that, not at school
Can’t say
hey The Raz Man, homophobia is really uncool
cos he’d just say
WHATEVER - GAY FACE!
BIG GAY FACE
HUGE MAMMOTH QUEER UNBLINKING FACE
FACE OF BUMMING!
You can’t reason with that
It’s like trying to soak up the Atlantic with a single sheet of Bounty
It can’t be done.
Fact.

So the summer was a release
And here was a girl falling over herself
and chin
for me

It began under a dirty sky one Saturday in June
When me, Jon and Darryl
Noticed a gaggle of girls in tracksuits and polo shirts
Seemingly following us around Chelmsford town centre

Or were they?

We applied the acid test,
I first led our group into the mall
They followed, perhaps chance
I then led us into the library above
and when I saw a chin poking around
the aisle of literary criticism
I knew it had to be love

Back outside amongst the bloated happy shoppers
The cocky one in Adidas poppers
Made the move
No four words sweeter to the teenage ear
My friend fancies you

We spent the rest of afternoon sitting amongst puddles
On Chelmsford’s one and only skate ramp
Punching Darryl’s BCG
Smoking sovereign and feeling damp

The cocky one was Becky
Tits like rocket launchers
And a sensitivity to match
She was hot and she knew it
Never mind the acne and traintracks
The teenage mind doesn’t see all that
These girls were as fit to us then
As they’d actually be in three years time when they lost the puppy fat

Which in Laura’s case was “not very”
Jon said she looked like she smelled of wee
And to my shame I said yeah I know what you mean

But then you didn’t go out with the girls who came high in the rankings
they were saved for unrequited bed room …
musing

back then I went out with the girls who fancied me
some kind of a guarantee
Cos if you’re picky you’ll be a virgin till you’re like … sixteen

No, at first I wasn’t that keen
But I persevered
I suppose it’s the same thing in me that wanted black nails
fenders, forearm scars, army shirts
and later compelled me to vote green
A charity shop girlfriend
it somehow seemed like the right thing to do

but now let’s stop with the invective
because irrespective of first impressions
we went out for time
I’m talking three
weeks
Hot and sticky afternoons when it felt good
Just to walk round rough estates in Galleywood

I remember my parents had their first and last drinks party that month
I was the drunkest waiter of all!
showing off to Laura
until I got Merlot down her top
and I had to come up to the bathroom to watch her take it off
then her bra
and in that light her breasts looked
grey
uneven, one veered off to the left
like it was trying to escape
but my god it was so beautiful, so real,
So much better than Darryl’s porn stash
I remember the taste of sweat dripping from my adolescent tash

nothing happened though
but you can still just about make out the red vomit stain on the bathroom carpet

The following week I was at hers
Her mum sat in the only armchair watching Wimbledon
Smoking lamberts and drinking beers
I don’t know if Laura had felt it the previous week
whilst passing around burgundy goblets to doctors and lawyers
but I became aware of class for the first time

Mrs brown flicked ash carefully into a tray
Pointed at her eldest son, who was thirteen and said
At school they call him ‘gay’
the lad turned to me for empathy
and I’m worried it’ll turn him into one

But hey, don’t get me wrong
They were lovely the Browns
The mum, the two dirty cheeked boys
The three ‘aunties,’ two dogs
and Laura, so sweet and embarrassed by it all
Microwaved roast and Victorian manners
But I felt a long way from home

I can’t remember how it ended
Can’t see the look on her face
But it was me who did it
I mean I never even liked her in the first place,
Right

and if that’s where it ended
I think I would have put it down to youth,
Just a childish mistake,

But she had leant me this tape.

It had been her favourite
I can’t remember who it was by
Just some guy who she’d seen play at Butlins or something
But it was brilliant
Satirical lyrics over well known tunes
And if I’m honest,
Despite my claims of Cooper Clarke this and Betjeman that, there
is no doubt that it was this tape that got me started on the story
Of which this poem is just latest chapter
And she wanted it back
Fair enough
I carried it round town for a month
But in the end bottled it
I placed the tape on the bench outside Mcdonalds
And it just sat there.

Now true, I wouldn’t have known this at the time
But she changed me forever
She gave me satire and class
and a half lit breast’s raw beauty
My God, that is poetry
and what did I give her?
Insecurities? A nervous twitch?
A sneer at the mother who drank beer?
A harsh lesson:
Don’t get involved with posh boys, darling
They steal from you and lie

Everyone you fuck on the way to the top
Will make you cry when you’ve arrived.