Boy Who Made It Rain (7 page)

Imagine if you had been Clem?

You could type NEDs into You Tube and you'd see them all dancing about, smoking joints and swigging Buckie in some park or in some pure dafty tink's house. They'd all have their arms around each other and, in most cases they'd be giving the finger. Or flashing their arses. Dead weird stuff. What do they call it? Homoerotic that's it. The worst was the music that accompanied their NED bonding; it was all that doof doof doof crap. The sort of music that would make you want to rip your ears out of your head. You Tube was full of clips with our school's NEDs. To be honest I don't think they were that into their music, they wouldn't have known a good record if it popped up in their curry and chips. What they knew about groups, bands, songs, albums and that, you could have written on the back of a stamp. That was another reason they gave Clem a hard time, they ripped him about him doing music at school. See in their mind that was only for the fags. God knows what they'd have made of Clem's taste in music.

It wasn't for me to judge why the family chose to live in Scotland. To my recollection they have no family connections to Glasgow. Actually, I am unsure if they have any family in the Eastbourne area. Glasgow, as I am led to believe, is culturally miles away from Eastbourne. Not that I have spent enough time there to make an accurate assessment. Yes, I would say that I was slightly concerned about Clem's moving. In the main, my concerns were about his education more than the lifestyle change; however, I understand that they are not mutually exclusive.

As I have informed you, he demonstrated signs of excellence while here. My hope was that this would be continued. My fear was that it would be eradicated somewhat by the upheaval. On the other hand, it's all part of being a teacher. Students come, students go. One can't, or rather shouldn't, become emotionally attached. That's easier said than done I suppose. Especially given the circumstances. Some of our past pupils have stayed in contact with the school and with certain teachers. We encourage a sort of nurturing environment when our students go on to brighter and better things. I think past rectors like to take credit for their success. We all know that this is utter bumpkin, of course.

To my knowledge his father wasn't a wealthy man, he came from what you would call working-class stock. Clem won a scholarship to this school. It's our way of paying lip service to discrimination, you see. Each year-group has two scholarships available to those who, by comparison, are deemed disadvantaged. Each applicant has to write an essay and go through an interview process. Oh nothing special, we simply enquire as to the applicant's motives and try to delve further under the applicant's skin. It's more like an informal chat really. They can be invaluable actually; in the past we have received some wonderful essays from boys, nevertheless when the applicant comes up against the admission committee it can be quickly established that they wouldn't be a suitable candidate for our school at all. We were unanimous with Clem. We believed that not only would he fit in well with the fabric and ethos of the school but he would also enhance it along the way. He had so much to offer, both personally and academically. I think now we are all questioning our decision-making process and our ability to be immune to hoodwinking. Of course nobody would dare raise the issue, but there were, and are, some knowing looks and gazes within the staff room.

When Clem left the school we were informed that it was for family reasons, in that his father had lost his job and had taken the family to Scotland in order to take up a new position. I think he worked in the sales industry, as a kind of travelling salesman, however, you would need clarification on that. A difficult time for all of us, the man lost his job and, unfortunately, had to take measures to protect his family. And now this. One tends to think what would have happened if the job market had been more secure down these parts. In an ideal world Clem could have conceivably continued his education with us, but, alas, our scholarship doesn't extend to boarding. Perhaps that should be reviewed.

I think he fitted in well when he came here. Obviously he was different and we are always wary of the problems students in Clem's situation can cause. By that, I mean we have to keep an eye on the students around him. That he doesn't become isolated or ostracized within the class. That the scholarship students are not singled out for special treatment…of course, I am referring to bullying. It is a disease here in the same way as it is in the comprehensive system. Some may say in schools like ours it has significantly profound effects. You see, our students have all the clever psychological attributes to inflict deep-rooted damage upon those they judge inferior to them. It is a terrible affliction that some of those born into money carry with them throughout their lives. One does wish that this affliction, this hubris, will be their eventual downfall. In many cases I am happy to report that it is.

Clem was free of this. Did he suffer at the hands of anyone? One thing for sure about Clem Curran was that he didn't suffer fools; those who tried to spread their bile were quickly and effectively put in their place. Academically, Clem was head and shoulders ahead of his peers. In a sense they revered him. He was the symbol of hope to so many of us; of how you can have personality and intelligence in abundance. Money can't buy everything, you see. Nonetheless, the odd ribbing went on, but nothing too serious or untoward. He was consistent with his temperament. No, I wouldn't have regarded him as calculated; he was a normal young man. No, I wouldn't have regarded him as a loner either, or, for that matter, an extrovert. He kept himself at arm's-length from his peers, but he was sociable and likeable. He knew his direction in life.

Only one incident springs to mind, it really was so insignificant that it isn't worth noting. Clem had to be reprimanded for striking another boy. More of a slap actually, nothing of note as I said. I think the other lad was questioning, firstly, his parentage and, secondly, his sexual orientation. Apparently this had been going on for some time and Clem had hit breaking point, so naturally he lashed out and struck the other boy. You could say his anger superseded his rationale. The comments stopped immediately after the incident. If one questions his actions one has to ask if he was vindicated given the intense and systematic levels of provocation.

My advice, as I have given throughout the years to students who have been victims of such circumstances, some scholars may say unprofessionally so, has been to provide them with two options: one, inform a teacher, which will quite possibly lead to a continuation as well as an escalation of the ribbing, or bullying if you prefer. Or, two, hit the perpetrator as hard as you can, with or without warning. My belief was that option two would determine that the hounding and discrimination would cease.

Yes, this was advice I offered Clem at the time. He subsequently took up option two. The problems stopped for him and the school environment became a pleasurable one again. While my methods may be construed as somewhat idiosyncratic or maverick I would pose the question, was I wrong? In light of what's occurred you could say my judgment was skewed a touch. I have gone over this time and time again, do I feel some semblance of responsibility for what has occurred? Does that absolve me from what has happened? Concretely, yes. Philosophically, no. Existentially, well on that one I oscillate.

There are of course a few areas that require further explanation and clarification, namely, what was the school's role in all of this? Why did no member of staff anticipate, or foresee, the peril ahead? And the girl implicated with Clem, what is her pedigree? What is her motive? No doubt these questions will all be unearthed after a proper and thorough investigation.

Don't get me wrong I was delighted when Rosie and Clem became an item. To me it appeared that it wasn't just your usual boyfriend girlfriend high school romance, but a proper relationship. You know, an item.

As a mother you always worry about your family. I only had the one so all my worry was naturally placed onto Rosie. I know it wasn't fair on her, there were times when I tried to take a back seat and let her make her own way, make her own mistakes; but I can tell you when a mother does that and watches from the sidelines it's heartbreaking. I just didn't want to intrude all the time. I thought that if I gave her space to breathe that it would bring us a wee bit closer together.

Yes, in a way I suppose thinking back I
was
jealous of Clem. He was playing the role I wanted to play. The role I should have been playing. Don't take this the wrong way, it wasn't as if I wanted the two of us to sit down and discuss the birds and the bees. Teenagers are no daft these days. They probably know more than I do now. Our Rosie could probably teach me a thing or two. As a parent you often wonder if your child…you know…if they are that way inclined. Especially Rosie. I never heard her talking about boys or having the idea of bringing a guy home. So I admit there were times when I thought that she might be a…you know…a wee bit…I remember crying about it one night because I thought it was such a waste as she is such a gorgeous lassie. But it would have been okay if she had been that way too; I wouldn't have loved her any less. You can imagine how happy I was when Clem came on the scene and
they became a real couple. A proper couple. I was genuinely happy for the two of them. It was probably relief I felt more than anything.
 

I didn't notice anything strange really, but things definitely changed. Some for the better, some for the worse. Well, she seemed happier and was more talkative around the house. More chirpy. But I could tell if they'd had an argument or something. Oh, it was don't go near her then. There was a time when I thought the two of them had broken up as all she did was mope around the house like a funeral goer. It didn't last though. I'd say to her things like, ‘Rosie, if there's anything I can do, or if there's anything you want to talk about just say.' Then she would give you the eyes and glare at you. ‘What do you know about it?' she'd say. I just left her when she was like that. There was no talking to her. In the space of a couple of hours it could all change though. That's what I found difficult to deal with, all the inconsistencies. I didn't know if I was coming or going. I don't think she did either. Anyway, for one I was glad she wasn't kicking with the other foot. It all seemed easier in my day.

Then I went the other way and my main concern was that Rosie and Clem were spending far too much time with each other. Don't get me wrong, I was happy for them, but at that age you need other friends around. I didn't want her to become too reliant on him. I used to think stupid things like: what do they find the time to talk about all the time? That's only because me and my ex used to sit for ages glued to a bloody television screen and say nothing to each other all night then go to bed. And do the same thing the next night. It used to destroy me. But those two were always cackling away or ‘discussing' something. Usually music, films or other stuff like that. I felt heart sorry for wee Cora because she was suddenly bombed out. I think that's when I became wary of Clem, not in a bad way, in a motherly way. Well, think about it, he was up here all the way from somewhere down south with no friends, didn't know anyone in Glasgow by all accounts, and here he was spending all his time with our Rosie. Splitting up her and her friends. That's how some folk could have seen it. There was just a time when I thought that he was taking a loan of her; that everything was on his terms, what they spoke about, where they went to, what music they listened to. I was worried that he was having too much control over her. It's not that I didn't like Clem, I had to take care of number one, and that was Rosie. I didn't treat him differently or become overprotective, Rosie would have seen through that in a flash.

There was something about him that didn't sit well with me. Nothing sinister. One of those imperceptible things. To this day I can't put my finger on it, but it was something, you know what I mean? It's hard to explain really, it could have been the way he looked at you…no…no, nothing like that. The way some people have a specific stare that makes others feel uneasy. They call it something, don't they?…That's right, a thousand-yard stare. Clem had one of those. Then at other times I thought to myself, there's no way he's as old as he says he is. Some of the things he'd come out with made me think that he was some old grandad. I didn't understand some of the garbage he spoke, not garbage but all that intellectual talk about books and the like. I couldn't be bothered with it all. He must have thought I was interested, or he was trying to impress me. Young people do that. I did the same when I was young. Trying to impress boyfriends' parents, or brothers and sisters. I was impressed at first but then it grated on me.

No, there's no way I'd have said anything to Rosie. Sure at that time she thought I was the beesneez, I didn't want to spoil that. I suppose you could say that I was being a bit selfish, but I fought bloody hard to get Rosie on my side and, when I had her, there was no way I was going to let anything, or anyone, come between us.

Yes, I stayed quiet. For my own sanity as much as anything else. Look, I couldn't exactly go up to her and say that I don't fully trust your boyfriend. Tell me a mother who does. She'd have only told me to bugger off and mind my own business. I would have done the very same if it was my own mother. I knew where she would have been coming from.

How did I react? Jesus, how would you have expected me to react? When I found out the first thing I thought of was our Rosie and how she was feeling, that was my first thought, protecting my daughter. After I knew she was okay my mind switched to Clem. When I first heard of it all, I just knew he would have been right in the middle of it, I knew it, and I was right…I was right.