‘I’m looking for Nathan Cory,
I’m looking for Jonathon Brown,’
That was the woman’s story,
In a pub, this side of town.
I’d only gone for a quiet pint
And hoped to be on my own,
Til this angry face burst into the place
And I put my beer mug down.

‘Would I be my brother’s keeper,
To follow him near and far?
He may appear, but he’s never here,
You can try the public bar.
Jonathon flits from place to place,
You never can tie him down,
I should know, I’m his brother Joe,
At your service, Joseph Brown.’

She ordered a double *****,
With a twist of lemon, squeezed,
Then sat on the stool beside me,
Without a ‘you mind?’ or ‘please’.
‘And what of this Nathan Cory,’
She said, ‘Is that just a friend?’
And I thought back to the nursery,
With that dark wall at the end.

‘Oh Nathan, yes, well he comes and goes,
He isn’t a friend to me,
But Jonathon always speaks of him,
Has known him since he was three.
He’s not a guy you should tangle with,
He’s always wanting to fight,
Jonathon used to go with him
When he came to him at night.’

‘You say you’ve never seen Nathan, then,
Not once, in all of your days?’
‘I try to avoid the ones that cause
Me strife, in so many ways.
My brother and I, we live apart,
I haven’t seen him for years,
That Nathan came in between us two,
A bit like the family curse!’

Her smile was gentle, her eyes were brown
Her hair fell over her face,
She didn’t seem quite so angry now
But I saw she carried Mace.
The men in white came up to the bar
As I dashed my beer down,
They said, ‘Hello! Whoever you are,’
And I said, ‘I’m Jonathon Brown.’

David Lewis Paget