Dusky Nights at Old Slab Square by Ray Gosling (2011)
Written for Nottingham Essence website, 2011
I never wanted to be here. Not at all. Not in Nottingham. I was born and brought up grammar school in Northampton and went to London for pleasure – only an hour away. When I was 16/ 17 the pattern of life was Monday to Friday in the VI form and I enjoyed my time in school where I was not the brightest button nor a sporting ace, but immensely popular. The pattern of life then was on Friday night or Saturday morning I’d slope away on the train if there was money or hitchhiking if not to troll round Piccadilly Circus as a sort of rent boy. I was handsome . I liked the company in the pubs The Standard, White Bear and Wards. I liked the attention. I liked the sex which I was good at. I liked the money and I liked the boozing. Never had or heard of any trouble. Odd so many things then were illegal but went on more accessible to more people than today. The Society then was much more free than today. And another thing – we were optimistic then.
I was sent to Cambridge to sit an exam was it or an interview – didn’t like Cambridge. Didn’t get it but as a second choice won a scholarship to Leicester Uni which by day three I’d made me mind up I was not staying.
Hated the other students – all so middle class and prurient and “ wanting to get on”. Loved the learning and some of the lecturers remained friends until they died.
I’d fallen very quickly into the town – and there were groups in pubs I met – young teddy boys I formed into bands and I managed them. I was before his time the Brian Epstein of the Hosiery City. No we didn’t go to New York – we went Hinckley, Nuneaton, Melton, Loughborough. And I ran my own dances with the bands twice a week – live at the Co-op Hall on Belgrave Gate CHEZ RAY ROCK. It was lovely. We felt we were changing the world – and we did – no more collar and tie, bye bye the chapel and hello rock n roll. “We’re all shook up.” And then I created a full time 24/7 youth club – nothing ever been done like this on Appletreegate where the Holiday Inn is now. And then we hit trouble – oh – factions were fighting and I were caught in the middle and had to run.
To London. Lovely Christmas – flat above a pub in Soho but I was determined to reclaim what I had in Leicester and London those days was two hours away while Nottingham was twenty minutes and trains ran through the night. Wonderful trains – amber coloured wooden carriages – with a corridor and toilets – they’d be on a York to Bournemouth through the night run, but they could steam Nottingham Victoria to Leicester Central in less than half an hour.
I was writing all the time – trying to as I am now – stuff for little magazines New Left Review, for The Fabians a pamphlet on youth culture, articles for Tribune, Anarchy, Peace News – getting in there published and doing a book commissioned by Faber and started talking – combination two skills – writing and speaking into the microphone for BBC Home Service.
I quite liked Nottingham – not that I stayed long and then I fell in love.
Across a crowded room. As the song has it. There were three “queer” bars in Nottingham them – the Union in St.Anns which was lovely lively – but bit rough where I had torrid love affair with Carlos the pianist there, The George which was snootty and Flying Horse before it became a shopping mall it was a coaching inn hotel with a side bar and there’d be 50/80 gays as they’re now called. And that was that.
I kept my London life – still have and I was earning money sometimes by then – The Queen, and Town magazine, The Times – and then came the telly – three skills – writing, speaking AND LOOKING good. From Manchester we did it. Was an odd business. It was a company ABC – so I’d go to London Wednesday or Thursday and research and write and on the Saturday in a palace at Hanover Square we’d decide what was to be in and then on Sundays fly Heathrow to Ringway and do it from Parrs Wood Road, Wythenshawe live SUNDAY BREAK it was, They’d all fly back to London but I stayed and liked Manchester.
My Nottingham lover had blond hair, blue eyes and to me scrumptious body. Our home was a room on Shakespeare Street, No. 7 Stratford Square Belling in corner – the toilet down corridor and concierge banging on the ceiling – my floor every time I brought a boy back. I paid her shut up money with half bottles of gin. Later I moved / we did to Hartley Road, no.127, opposite Players fag factory as was.
There was work then – what I most regret now to then was work has gone – oh I know Nottingham has lots of little businesses doing pharmaceuticals
And specialist engineering but their skills wanted are the technocrat middle class – then it was “us” sewing the lace and welding the bikes and smoothing the barrels of guns.
Now – I don’t know. I wish you well.
I never wanted to be here. Not at all. Not in Nottingham. I was born and brought up grammar school in Northampton and went to London for pleasure – only an hour away. When I was 16/ 17 the pattern of life was Monday to Friday in the VI form and I enjoyed my time in school where I was not the brightest button nor a sporting ace, but immensely popular. The pattern of life then was on Friday night or Saturday morning I’d slope away on the train if there was money or hitchhiking if not to troll round Piccadilly Circus as a sort of rent boy. I was handsome . I liked the company in the pubs The Standard, White Bear and Wards. I liked the attention. I liked the sex which I was good at. I liked the money and I liked the boozing. Never had or heard of any trouble. Odd so many things then were illegal but went on more accessible to more people than today. The Society then was much more free than today. And another thing – we were optimistic then.
I was sent to Cambridge to sit an exam was it or an interview – didn’t like Cambridge. Didn’t get it but as a second choice won a scholarship to Leicester Uni which by day three I’d made me mind up I was not staying.
Hated the other students – all so middle class and prurient and “ wanting to get on”. Loved the learning and some of the lecturers remained friends until they died.
I’d fallen very quickly into the town – and there were groups in pubs I met – young teddy boys I formed into bands and I managed them. I was before his time the Brian Epstein of the Hosiery City. No we didn’t go to New York – we went Hinckley, Nuneaton, Melton, Loughborough. And I ran my own dances with the bands twice a week – live at the Co-op Hall on Belgrave Gate CHEZ RAY ROCK. It was lovely. We felt we were changing the world – and we did – no more collar and tie, bye bye the chapel and hello rock n roll. “We’re all shook up.” And then I created a full time 24/7 youth club – nothing ever been done like this on Appletreegate where the Holiday Inn is now. And then we hit trouble – oh – factions were fighting and I were caught in the middle and had to run.
To London. Lovely Christmas – flat above a pub in Soho but I was determined to reclaim what I had in Leicester and London those days was two hours away while Nottingham was twenty minutes and trains ran through the night. Wonderful trains – amber coloured wooden carriages – with a corridor and toilets – they’d be on a York to Bournemouth through the night run, but they could steam Nottingham Victoria to Leicester Central in less than half an hour.
I was writing all the time – trying to as I am now – stuff for little magazines New Left Review, for The Fabians a pamphlet on youth culture, articles for Tribune, Anarchy, Peace News – getting in there published and doing a book commissioned by Faber and started talking – combination two skills – writing and speaking into the microphone for BBC Home Service.
I quite liked Nottingham – not that I stayed long and then I fell in love.
Across a crowded room. As the song has it. There were three “queer” bars in Nottingham them – the Union in St.Anns which was lovely lively – but bit rough where I had torrid love affair with Carlos the pianist there, The George which was snootty and Flying Horse before it became a shopping mall it was a coaching inn hotel with a side bar and there’d be 50/80 gays as they’re now called. And that was that.
I kept my London life – still have and I was earning money sometimes by then – The Queen, and Town magazine, The Times – and then came the telly – three skills – writing, speaking AND LOOKING good. From Manchester we did it. Was an odd business. It was a company ABC – so I’d go to London Wednesday or Thursday and research and write and on the Saturday in a palace at Hanover Square we’d decide what was to be in and then on Sundays fly Heathrow to Ringway and do it from Parrs Wood Road, Wythenshawe live SUNDAY BREAK it was, They’d all fly back to London but I stayed and liked Manchester.
My Nottingham lover had blond hair, blue eyes and to me scrumptious body. Our home was a room on Shakespeare Street, No. 7 Stratford Square Belling in corner – the toilet down corridor and concierge banging on the ceiling – my floor every time I brought a boy back. I paid her shut up money with half bottles of gin. Later I moved / we did to Hartley Road, no.127, opposite Players fag factory as was.
There was work then – what I most regret now to then was work has gone – oh I know Nottingham has lots of little businesses doing pharmaceuticals
And specialist engineering but their skills wanted are the technocrat middle class – then it was “us” sewing the lace and welding the bikes and smoothing the barrels of guns.
Now – I don’t know. I wish you well.