I LIVED OFF EASEY STREET - CHAPTER ONE

By Steve Gray

Mainly I had a blessed life, I was apparently one of those people who had things land in my lap, dad said ‘That kid’s the luckiest thing I know!’ Mum would respond with a shake of her head and say for god sake, Todd is not just a ‘thing,’ dad would shake his head in disbelief and say, ‘Whatever, he's still darn lucky, a bloody lucky charm that kid!’ 

While that was mostly true there were times when I would be tested, times of utter despair, and places I wish I didn’t end up, down some miserable back alley of existence where things turn into mush, and misery becomes too much to bare. Lost in those desperate moments where there seems no way out, no way back, no way forward. Sometimes it felt like I just had to be there in some mire of discontent and hold on long enough to see some glimmer of hope. 

But for now, and in my earlier days I was blessed with a big lick of luck. Okay so I made my down times sound like a big deal, in fact compared to most people I know my downtimes weren’t anything much. 

I guess it was always in the back of my mind, implanted very early on, that I was ‘lucky,’ Some of my friends were the opposite and loved hanging out with me especially as a kid because I kept finding things and they felt like some of the luck might rub off on them.  

We could be out on our bikes and I would spot a $1 coin in a gutter or on a path as the rest whizzed by. Sometimes it was a $5 note, just floatin’ there waiting to be picked up and I was it. They marvelled at my so-called ‘skill’.

One time we were riding through a car park and some guy dropped his wallet, I called out and circled back to pick it up and handed it to him. It turned out he was deaf and couldn’t hear me, he was so pleased, he gave me a $10 reward and profusely thanked me. It was rather funny this guy shaking my hand with two hands and mumbling words like some deaf people do, my mates were astounded.  

They said ‘What did he say?’ I then said ‘Well.. hrmph frmph, ah ha ha woo yup tanks.’ and smiled. They laughed all the way home that day. Yeah okay no one else heard, and it was bloody funny at the time because clearly I didn’t understand a word he said. I just knew he was grateful. 

My mate Pete said ‘Gees, you find a whole wallet, you hand it back and even then you get some money, freakin’ hell Todd, you are one lucky guy!’ My other mate Gary looked at him and said 'Yeah lucky that the guy was grateful to get his wallet back and that he wanted to reward you.’ 

Anyway funny things like that happened. Mum said people who did good deeds would sometimes get rewarded and not just with cash but good feelings that they did a good thing ‘Good service is its own reward,’ she would say. Little things like that stayed with me for all my life, little positive notes from people who knew things. Little things that often worked in my favour. Dad on the other hand had less positive feedback from his life experiences. He might say ‘Sometimes people are lucky and sometimes they are not.’ rather direct. Usually, as I remember it, it was from something small, like dropping a screw and watching it magically disappear, he would then say ‘That’d be right…’ and then have to find another screw, small things but rather annoying. 

I had a mind that would remember these sorts of little things and one year at school my teacher would hear all these stories of how lucky I was, so for English one time he asked me to tell the class in a three minute speech, all the times I had been lucky or had done something that was lucky for someone else.  

Well it started with the wallet and me being rewarded for turning it in, then the luck I had at the school fete raffle, I could buy five tickets and win two prizes, then other stories ran out of my head from there. No notes required, I just let the stories run, there were about ten more stories. 

The teacher was amazed and I went easily well past the three minutes required for the exercise and there were a bunch of questions at the end. He said I was the luckiest person he had met. One of the girls said under her breath, ‘Well you should get out more…’ The teacher didn’t hear it but a couple of others did and had a good giggle. 

I figured mostly I had a good eye for finding things, seeing details and being quick enough. One time on the train, there was a young kid with his Mum, he insisted on holding a fifty dollar bill. He was having a melt down unless he held it. Anyway he let it go after a while, I figured he had no idea of what it was worth, and became distracted and then he let it go. I watched it float to the floor like it was in slow motion. 

I walked up and picked it up, then rolled it up tight and passed it to his mother with a wink. She had no idea I had picked it up and looked at me with a scrunched up, confused looking face, I gestured twice before she took it from me. She then realised where it came from and grinned widely and said, ‘Thanks.’ A simple thing, but I could see there were people on that train that would have taken that bill in no time and would not have handed it back. The mother and the kid would have both been distressed. 

I remember she had one of those outfits inspired by the way ladies dressed in the nineteen fifties, pastel coloured long dress with a handbag that sort of matched, the dress material had a lovely pattern of leaves across it, autumn leaves, then a neat, smooth hat. She looked so sweet, well and truly out of place in today’s age but it was certainly a lovely visual statement.

When they got off the train the boy who was with her started to arc up realising he didn’t have the bill in his hand. Somehow I figured they needed to get to the door and he was causing a scene, she dragged hard and I caught his eye waving at him, I got him distracted enough for him to comply. They got off in time, just…

A little old lady sitting by the door in the elderly disabled seats said, ‘Oh boy he was a handful and that was so nice of you to help them.’ I said ‘Oh yeah that’s okay, it’s what we do.’ she smiled in a sort of frozen kind of a way as if to say ‘Some do and some don’t, today you did, others didn’t.’

Things would happen, nice outcomes, oh sure occasionally things turned to crap, but mostly good things.

At scouts I had good observation skills, out camping or hiking I was put in front, because I would see the snakes that others didn’t see and lots of other details. At school I would know who was away that day at a quick glance around the room or as people came into the class, I guess a good memory and the ability to remember names.

There were lots of positive things and details that stood out and crappy stuff as well, hey I’m human after all.

Lots of good things, like at school I liked most subjects and would do some extra research on things, just out of interest, like in history, they carried on about Egypt and the Pharaohs etc. I did what was asked, but my mind said, ‘What else was happening in the world at the time?’ Yep there was lots, so I would take a look and ‘dig up’ some info and check out what was going on.

I found a fold out timeline on the history of the world in an encyclopaedia and by hand I made my own copy of most of the things that happened over time. In science I pondered what else, but in other ways, for instance chemical reactions, ‘Oh look, add this chemical to that and it turns orange… ooh’ NAH I wanted to add a to b and watch it explode… Thankfully, now that I look back at it, that never happened, in class.

I had to figure out how to ask the right sorts of questions to find the right sorts of answers and it did take a long while but I got there. ‘How to make gunpowder’ was part of that bit of research. My mates and I had some fun with that. 

Mr Smith's letterbox down the street sure did take a battering that week, he was a grumpy old fart so it was worth the effort. Dad suggested I look up how to make rockets, we did some, but rocket fuel as it turns out can be rather tricky to handle and to get right. We burnt a fabulous mark on the local oval testing a couple of rockets, oops. It lasted for ages! 

Then in art, what else was happening? Again a timeline came in handy and especially in the later years around the fifties and sixties there was a lot going on. We did little painting exercises in the style of various artists and then we could get to pick one of our own. 

Yeah I found some far out crazy stuff, like Jackson Pollock’s action paintings and had some fun with that, then created a written conceptual art piece, the teacher looked at the writing on the page and was bewildered, she was about to say, something like’ It’s not meant to be an essay.’ but then she read the first paragraph and went ‘oh, that’s different!’

Parent teacher night, my art teacher was sitting reading a book. I suggested to dad that he chat to her first, as she might get busy a bit later on, okay that was a joke… So she looked him up and down, then spotted me. She said ‘Todd seems to look at things differently and certainly extends himself, he has a way of finding out more and applying it.’

History teacher next, ‘Yeah Todd's very interested in all we do and then a little bit more, his interest in historic timelines and such, very interesting. He certainly extends himself, and that’s very good to see.’

Dad was impressed, I thought it was useful to start with the positives, the rest didn’t account for much except woodwork, the teacher was like the first two, positive.

I liked art, woodwork and all the things ‘makey doey’ it led to me going to do a TAFE course in art, Cert IV, I then managed to get a job working in the term breaks at a cabinet makers, practical and a bit creative, lots of problem solving, how to get things into corner cupboards and make a fully featured kitchen fit into a tiny apartment. I got that job through a mate at tafe, his dad ran the place. He didn’t want the work but was glad when I came along. 

Mostly I helped the installation guy and saw the challenges he faced when things didn’t fit and all that, fascinating. Then there would be the chance to watch the head guy Aaron chatting with customers and figuring out what they wanted, he would show them options and explore possibilities.  

Some people wanted outrageous things, like cabinets that went to the ceiling in an old house that had super high ceilings. ‘No mate, that’s not gunna happen.’ Aaron said to one couple that what they wanted was ridiculous and that he wouldn’t do it. They left in a huff, he smiled at me and said, ‘I just saved us a major headache.’

We also got to make things for architects planning out multiple level apartments. There would be like ten apartments the same, bang out ten of this, then ten of that, the foyers and reception areas were interesting.

The work was interesting, but some of the guys were idiots. Oh they could do their jobs and all that but some of them had bad attitudes that I wasn’t used to, these days it’s called misogyny where some guys run women down, with some disgustingly misguided notion that women like that, that they go for ‘bad boys’, not sure how that works. 

At Tafe most of the art students were females and so I got to hear a lot of what they liked, didn’t like, what they valued and so on. We had a bunch of discussions over lunch and at parties and so on about the scheme of things. Then when I got to hear what the guys at work were on about and I told them in no uncertain terms that they were on the wrong track. 

After a few discussions I gave up, the online idiots with their ability to push their bad boy agendas were too strong. It was funny in a way that the guys couldn’t see any other way than some hard line rude abusive approach. In my view, girls are a thing that can be cherished, loved, and provide a balance to our ‘maleness’. I always respect other people, their gender never swung me either way, if you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you.

After Tafe I worked there for about 18 months and sort of got bored, I met this guy who Aaron did subcontract work with and he liked him, Ben. Ben ran a design business of some kind and would come and get things made for architects and so on. He came one day when Aaron was delayed getting back to the office. I had a chat and kept him amused, organised a coffee for him and so on. We hit it off, I showed him things we were working on and he showed me pictures of some of the things he had worked on.

His business was a bunch of streets over from us near Easey Street, a few weeks later Aaron asked me to take some plans over there to Ben’s place. Things were quiet and it gave me something to do. A lucky break in routine, Ben's place was interesting, we chatted some more and it turned out he was wanting to take on an employee. He had another guy working for him who headed off to see the world by backpacking and Ben needed someone to fill that gap.

I showed interest and it wasn’t long before he said to Aaron ‘I want that kid, you want to hand him over or will we do this the hard way?’ Ben smiled and had a laugh, and Aaron said, ‘Well bugger me Ben, that there veritable, ol’ Toddy here is my right hand man, I taught him heaps and now you want to whisk him away, gees what next! You’ll want my chocolate stash next…’

I figured they must have spoken earlier, because they were both smiling at me. Aaron knew I was getting a bit bored with things and work had been a bit quiet, the other guys who worked with Aaron were older and had a lot of commitments, I knew Aaron would look after them first, and rightfully so, I was the last in and so the first out.

We started off sharing the load, Ben needed time to figure out how best to utilise my skills. And Aaron needed to adjust to being one man down, that went well, a nice transition. 

Working with Ben was easy, it was often a creatively challenging role with lots of variety. 

We did some installs, well actually it was more like watching others install stuff Ben had designed or coordinated to be designed. For a while we had a run of reception areas, designed to perfection to suit the client. We would run around from designers to clients, then to the cabinet maker and signwriter. Lots of details and variety, it was a good job.

Strangely, one of the side benefits of working at Ben’s place was seeing the girl who lived across the road from the office, Cait Hanson. It didn’t happen often, but gees she was a looker. I would wave to her as she got into her car or came out her front gate and headed up to catch the tram further up Easey street. 

I ended up catching up with Cait, nice kid, I fell for her no end. An independent person with a big heart. A good looker, I reckoned she would have looked great in a fifties style outfit, like the one I mentioned earlier, you know, the lady on the train? Anyway, she certainly had the figure for it. She was no nonsense, direct and spoke her mind. Lived life to the full, but that was unfortunately short lived.

One morning she got out of her car, or maybe she was getting into it, and dropped an envelope, either way. Apparently it was important, I saw it, she didn’t, I waltzed across the street and scooped it up. Yeah that’s right, she was getting into her car, because I waved it at her through the side window, she wound down the window and she said “Oh my god I must have dropped it and it’s got some really important information in it thanks SO MUCH!” I smiled and she gave me a high five and drove off.

Two days later I spotted her again and gave a wave. She had an infectious smile, wow my heart melted a little each time I saw her. Oh boy I was falling for someone I barely knew.

She drove off to god knows where, and I was lost for a little while, my mind went blank and I felt all warm and cuddly inside. It turned out she was on holiday for a couple of weeks and that’s why I saw more of her.

We caught up a few times, coffee and cake, then dinner and a few drinks. She was so easy to get along with, I liked her a lot. She worked in an office in town, a big well known consulting firm, Fletchley and Green. 

Cait was always immaculately presented. After a while I would get to work early to see her head off to work, each day I came a bit earlier until I finally saw her, coming out her front gate. She spotted me and said ‘You’re early today?’ I said ‘A big project on, I’m putting in some extra hours.’. She waved and said bye as she headed up the street to catch the tram.

I said ‘hold up’ I followed and we walked together. I said I was going to get a Hot Chocolate at a cafe on Easey street, a total lie, but I had to have one just to keep up the charade. Walked right up to the top of Easey street and waited with her for the tram. We chatted all the way.

She noted I didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get in the door early at work. I smiled and blushed then said ‘shucks, I got all caught up in chatting to you, oops.’ She said I was a duffer, but a nice duffer… She was on the tram and waved, I melted some more. Hot chocolate? Nah, maybe later…

More catch-ups and chatting. She took me to the football one weekend, Essendon and the Cats, a thrilling game, so cold that we shared a blanket to keep warm. That was so nice. We had dinner at one of those noodle places crammed with overseas students and I then dropped her off at home. Out the front of her house we sat for a bit in the car and chatted some more. 

She said, ‘Todd, you’re certainly different in your approach, in a way kind of innocent but so charming.’ I asked for clarification. ‘Well I have met lots of guys and work with guys at work, and some of them are simply rude and rather disrespectful, often in subtle ways and they are not getting pulled up on it. You on the other hand, I reckon they broke the mould when they made you!’

We then had a discussion about toxic behaviours and how some guys get led astray and believe that they have some right to be powerful, pushy and in control, rather than working in an equal way. I put forward a theory that all girls at school should learn self defence. Cait sat and thought about that for a bit and said, ‘Yeah maybe, but it could mean that those that don’t learn it or don’t want to learn it could be disadvantaged?’

The debate about that went on for a bit, with various scenarios put forward. I advocated that verbal self defence would come first followed by a more physical approach if required. Things went back and forth for a while.

Cait then said, ‘See, you’re different, the average guy would probably say, nah, just have a big burly bloke with you to sort out some scum. But instead you seem to suggest that girls should have the ability to stand and deliver if threatened.’

I loved having deeper conversations with Cait. She could really explore things and push ideas about, mostly it was low level philosophy but that was probably because both of us had little training in that area.

One time I asked her if she had a problem with guys chasing her, I thought they would be all over her, because, well, she was a good looker. She just plainly said, ‘Nope, I don’t bother with boys, I don’t chase them and they generally don’t chase me.’ I then asked how come she was hanging out with me? She smiled, and said, ‘You, dear Toddy, are a lovely person, calm and considerate, the sort who would throw yourself into harm's way to protect me, you would stop some idiot trying to get my attention and lo and behold, here you are.’

Eventually we caught up so much she invited me in for dinner a few times. After work was fairly convenient, one of the openings at the gallery around the corner, a few drinks and then back to her place for tacos. Two weeks later she invited me again, she would leave a note on the door at work, until one day it blew away and so she texted me instead. It seems she missed me not responding to her messages which I would do within a few moments of receiving them.

I guess you could say that by this point we were an item. I was starting to meet some of her friends, someone had a 21st birthday and so there we were. I didn’t do too well remembering names at first but that was okay. There was a young guy there with a bunch of mates. I was standing next to them when speeches were happening, the girl's father talking about his daughter, the father teared up a little and this silly young guy made a snide comment. ‘I bet he’s tearing up because she’s getting too old to keep secrets…’

The guys with him had a giggle. I had devoured only two drinks, and the comment shook me a little. I said, ‘What do you mean by that?’ They giggled again and two guys walked away, the silly kid said ‘Aw you know, his princess is getting too old to keep secrets about, sitting on his knee and seeing what pops up.’ He then had a laugh as did his giggly mate next to him.

I shook my head in disgust and said, ‘Well that might be funny where you’re from, but in my camp that’s not even a thought I would contemplate. In fact it’s blatantly disgusting!’ He went a bit blank in his expression and his mate piped up with ‘Aw mate, lighten up will ya, it’s just a joke.’

I shook my head again and said, ‘A joke told often enough could be seen as a reflection of reality and some would say you’re mate here is calling the father a freakin’ pedophile! That’s not on…’ The pair walked off, well out of harm's way. Cait was across the other side of the room at the time and was now wandering my way and saw me shaking my head in disbelief. 

She said she saw me chatting to ’the boys’. They were well known, for disgusting behaviour. I filled her in on the details and she also shook her head, she then said ‘That’s about right for that lot.’

There were more events to catch up at, we found a neat little cafe a few streets over that had music, two musicians playing far out exciting Jazz, then the next night a guy and girl duo. A couple of her friends from work pointed this place out, and so it became a thing. Rhizzo’s cafe and food joint. 

Another couple of parties, and a wedding, okay so we were serious now.

Before long I had moved into her place, she made a comment about how isolated this house could be, three bedrooms and all that. I then said, ‘have you thought about having it as a share house?’ She didn’t want that, but.. And then I moved in. At first I had a single bed in another room then one night, not long into me being there, well, it was cold and so Cait invited me to add to the warmth in her bed, ever since then we have been buddies, darn good buddies!

It was so easy to walk out the door from her place then across the road to work. In the past I had become so used to catching a train, then a tram and wasting a lot of my time commuting. Dad was pleased I moved out, Mum was hesitant. Thankfully I didn’t have too much ‘stuff’, so moving was easy.

I got to meet Cait's Mother Jean and her dad Chris not long before I moved in, lovely people, and at one Christmas get together I met her Uncle Graeme. Now he was a thing. We were standing aside while people were in their backyard were having a Barbeque, beer in hand making small talk, just Graeme and I and in a most matter of fact way. 

He turned to me and quietly said, ‘If you ever do anything to hurt that girl I will see to it that you are beaten by some dickhead numbnut with a baseball bat.’ He then leaned in a bit from the side with a tilted head and a broad smile.

I was shocked, I didn’t know what to think or say. He finished off by saying ‘Cait is their only child and if you do her wrong you know what will happen.’ He then simply walked away, I was silenced for a little while, what a brutal thing to say. I never repeated it to anyone. I was too shocked by it.

Oh he had nothing to worry about, I loved the kid, she had inherited her house from her great Auntie Mel and had lived there for oh, a good five years. And I had no thoughts of doing anything to mess things up.

Graeme I got to read like a book, there are subtle things you get to know about people, some kids learn it watching their abusive parents, when to hide, when to run, when to go silent, how to react when those subtle nasty things happen. Let’s just say I knew enough to read abusive people like a book, not always I must admit, but every now and then something would just say, ‘Keep your wits about you Tod.’ With Graeme it was overly clear, therefore my shock when he said what he said. I think the shock value he hoped for was not as great as I think he thought it would be.

It was some time later when I got chatting to Cait’s dad Chris, one of those afternoons sitting about in the backyard enjoying the fire around a fire pit, I was invited to dinner. The afternoon faded to evening, for some reason we hadn’t got into any drinking, just chatting, the cricket, how work was and so on. The girls were inside, something came up about family and their influences.

Chris let on that Graeme got the brunt of his fathers aggression, he and his mum took off and hid at Auntie Mel’s place when they were young, luckily for Graeme he survived with rat cunning and the ability to handle their drunk father, sometimes he had to do a runner to the next door neighbour. Mostly he just used rat cunning, especially as he got older. The Police would bring him back after his dad reported him as a runaway.

I casually asked if Chris thought Graeme was troubled by all this as he got on later in life, Chris sort of shook his head and said, ‘Well that’s hard to say?’ Things then faded as we were ushered inside for dinner.

As I said earlier, I never said anything, but I watched old Graeme like a hawk, out of some degree of fear or intrigue I guess, but generally to see if he exhibited any other abusive tendencies. He did have a nervous twitch when a new person came into the room. Not many people would have seen it, just a quick twitch of his head and a single shoulder shrug.

I didn’t realise until a bit later that he was married but was separated, his wife Maree, would sometimes come to family get togethers, things seemed amicable, I did notice he tended to not stay so long when she was there, and they would simply give each other a cursory nod, at least they acknowledged each other.

It seems that some families have some sort of person who has ‘issues’, My family not so much, not many aunts and uncles to explore to that degree, they lived interstate and we didn’t see them much.

Hanging out with Cait was amazing, we had a number of good times, and some very good times. Laughing and chatting about life, love and all sorts. Occasionally about work and her friends. My mates kept telling me about how lovely she is and all that, and as they said, ‘The lucky boy gets the prize.’ 

Gees I was lucky, she was a stunner, my mates kept saying so, so that was a thing. And I dunno, she had so much going for her, a good job, sharp wit, well presented. Well that was the case up until her trip to Bali, off with a bunch of mates, a girl's week away, then they went on some snorkelling tour and the ferry got caught in a storm that brewed up and bang she was gone, the whole thing capsized, water got into the motor and they lost all control. 

I was freakin’ devastated, as was the family. Five people died on that ferry that day. I still remember the phone call from her mum, it was hard to understand what had happened through the tears and incessant sobbing.

The funeral was a mess, people sobbing left and right and all that. Two of her mates had a broken arm each, one of the others nearly drowned and another was badly bruised, it all happened so fast for them being there, and us over here seeing the footage on the news that night not knowing that any of them were involved. But here we are, all forlorn, hurt and left to wonder about what might have been.

The team at Fletchley and Green closed that section of the business that day, everyone from her department at work was at the funeral. The boss called a day of mourning, put up a sign and had counselling for the staff for the next few weeks. Even Mr Fletchley turned up and her Boss Janey Underwood. Apparently that was a really big thing.

I had little support, well no professional support, mum and dad, Cait’s folks I guess, but Chris was reluctant to talk, all that male bravado and the sense of having to be in control. Jean wanted to chat but I had to wait until Chris wasn’t there, like if I called on the phone or happened to be over there while he was at a cricket game. My mum would call me to chat and I would go to pieces, I loved that girl, and it all hurt so much.

Ben was good too, he understood and gave me a few days break, and then some days he would watch me at work and say, in this quiet kind of way, so freakin gentle ‘Todd go home buddy, take a break,’ One time I sat in my chair nodded in agreement and then tears streamed down my face. I could be emotional alright. He told me later on that he watched me cross the road. He said I was a wreck that day. I’m not sure what set me off but I went to pieces big time.

Sitting in the house, her house, now that was strange, the place was, let’s say enchanted, some old houses can be a bit scary, almost haunted, but this place was so nice. However I kept seeing her there, as if she had just come out of the shower, or the bedroom or standing in the kitchen cooking, preparing food or whatever. If I walked in the front door I swear I sensed her going out the back door.

I think it was the second day after she had passed away, I went to go home, across the road and couldn’t, my heart wasn’t there. I walked for hours that afternoon and night, I ate out at a small cafe, I sat bewildered, dad rang me, was I ok, he had a feeling something wasn’t right. He came and picked me up, took me home to their place, I remember it was rather late, about 11 by the time we got there. I was a mess, as was mum seeing me in a mess.

The next day everything seemed clear, I don’t think I had any more tears in me for a while, all run out. I had the day off work, one of those rare occasions, but Ben understood, he always seemed to understand. He’d touch me on the shoulder at work and say comforting things, it usually started with ‘Todd, mate how’s things?’ 

There were days that I went to pieces, mostly I did okay. Her parents came over to clear out her things, that was a hard day and we all sobbed a little. It seemed strange, I said to Chris, ‘You’re a big solid guy, I must say I’m impressed that you shed a tear.’ he smiled and simply said ‘Yep, thanks.’ Jean said he always did have a soft side.

I got asked to turn up for the reading of the will, hey who knew these things were in place for a kid so young, okay in her late twenties. 

I didn’t want to be there, not sure why I was there, but Jean called and said ‘It was on and that I needed to be there.’ She didn’t have much I thought. But like me she had luck on her side, the house was given to her and another relative gave her a big bunch of cash at one point, she had invested and it had done well. The cash went to Jean and Chris along with the house. Cait said I was to rent it, if I wanted, and that her dad would run it as a rental.

I was gobsmacked, the Solicitor said, Cait had made it clear to him that’s how she wanted things to go. 

Later on my mates just said ‘Gees you are so lucky!’ Yeah but did I deserve it? Well apparently so. I was ever so grateful. Chris and Jean had done okay, they didn’t need to sell it to have cash to live on for instance. Chris assured me he was happy to have me as a tenant for as long as I want to.

The house was a bit rundown and all that, old Edwardian style and it needed work. One of those houses that’s jammed onto a block, no side windows on one side just front and rear windows and a small path down the other side with two windows. 

The front yard was tight and you were lucky to be able to squeeze a small car in there on the right, then the obligatory picket fence, Cream and white on the window frames. The stumps needed doing, the concrete chunks laid randomly as paths over the years, were cracked and so forth. 

The backyard was JUST big enough to have two mid sized trees and a small one. At some stage her Aunty had chooks and there were remnants of the chook wire against the back and side fence along with a bit of the frame of the chook run.

I looked at the place after the will reading and it was all of a sudden a sad kind of a place for a while. We were all devastated at Cait being gone, we got the ashes a few weeks after the funeral. And that was a teary event. Not many words, just lots of tears again, the funeral was hard enough. Her parents have the ashes. They put her up on the mantelpiece in their lounge for a while and then in a side cabinet, Jean was worried she might fall off the mantel.

It was a strange time, loss and heavy hearts, gees I had only moved in a bit over nine months ago. I slowly got on with making small things better at the house, I kept her folks up to date with all the little things that I got done. They were most pleased. I got one of those little pressed brass signs with her name on it, put it in a frame and attached it to the front wall. It gave me a fresh start at home and at work as well.

Chris finally came around after a few months to have a look at the place, they had cleaned out Cait’s things, that was interesting, we found she liked to hide little things like notes in envelopes telling people how loved they were, fascinating. Anyway Chris said they had decided to fix up the things that were starting to get to fix up stage. So for a few months he would turn up and fix things up. And organised the stumpers to get things level.

I started to feel like the place wasn’t as depressing seeing the changes, it was now a different place somehow.