Beyond Here Lies Nothing by C.J Duggan

Author:C.J Duggan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.J Duggan
Published: 2019-08-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 27

Ashley Hodge was the grandson of Mick Hodge, local council member, firefighting volunteer, fete PA master for the prize wheel and general all-time good bloke, a national treasure to the Pretty Pine community. My grandad had been held in such esteem once upon a time, working diligently at coaching the local cricket club, president of Rotary and volunteer firefighter. An upstanding member of the community, a man who went above and beyond for people, selfless, respected. The man who, despite his commitments, took in a little girl, fed her, loved her, and kept her safe. Grandad was the best man I had ever known; I would walk through fire for him. I accepted every part of his ways: that he always left a dirty butter knife in the sink every morning, that he never pushed his chair in at the kitchen table, the way he would fall asleep in his chair mid-movie and snore through the good parts. I loved him despite all the little quirks.

Nan had been gone years before I had arrived, a distant memory recalled only in her possessions and a wedding photo on the mantelpiece. Madeline Bowen, by all accounts, was a good woman who loved her husband almost to a fault. A fiercely loyal and strong-willed woman. Grandad said I reminded him of her, but I didn’t see how; I never felt very strong, never fought for anything of any great value. I would sooner run than fight. I was a coward, just like my mother had been. It was the biggest fear of mine, to end up like her.

So despite it all, I had sought refuge in the fact that although my mother never wanted me, I knew I was loved, that Grandad loved me and would never leave me. It was something I made him promise through the tears of my childhood, and when he told me he never would, I believed him. Grandad involved me in all aspects of Pretty Pine community matters. I would sit by his side with my raspberry lemonade and salt-and-vinegar chips as he called out the Bingo numbers on a Wednesday night. I would fall asleep on the couch after yawning through the boring monthly Rotary meetings, would help the volunteers in the kitchen make sandwiches in fire season when Grandad went out to put out a grass fire.

At every event, Mick Hodge was always in attendance, a tall, imposing man, a real knockabout bloke with large hands. He was my grandad’s best mate; he was like an uncle to me. Mick and Tom grew up together, were growing old together, and although they had seen each other through some trying times—Mick’s divorce, Mick losing his son in a car accident, a bout of cancer even—friendships got you through the best and the worst of times. It had seen Grandad through the loss of his wife and the heartache of a daughter who chose to be lost to him. But then there were some things that a friendship couldn’t withstand, even if you believed a connection was unbreakable.

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