Free Boy Who Made It Rain by Brian Conaghan

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