WINNER OF THE SLOAN PRIZE 2026
Catherine Hodge is a 22 year old Master’s student, studying Creative Writing at the University of Aberdeen. A recent graduate of English and Scottish Literature at the University of Edinburgh, she is interested in contemporary Scottish fiction influenced by nineteenth-century Gothic literature and is looking forward to working on her Summer Folio, which features ‘a strange Scottish woman, preoccupied with solving a murder, and also biting’. Originally from Glasgow, she is drawn to Glaswegian narratives, and hopes to one day publish a novel written in the Glaswegian dialect she grew up speaking and hearing. You can find her on Instagram @catherinehodge
“I am so excited to receive the 2026 Sloan Prize! Celebrating Glaswegian literature will always be very special to me, and I am absolutely thrilled to accept this award for a second time. Icecream oan the Beach was influenced by the summers I spent racing to beaches on Scotland’s West Coast with my closest friends, memories I absolutely treasure. If anyone has the chance to see the West Coast on a (rare) sunny day, I encourage you to make the visit – you will most likely have a better time than my narrator!”
Icecream Oan the Beach
It’s boilin ootside an Jack dragged me tae Saltcoats. The original plan wis tae get the train tae Largs, but the weans crammed-as-usual ontae too many trains an traumatised too many OAPs. Nae mare trains tae Largs.
Ah’m wearing the swimmin costume he got me fir Christmas an a pair o denim shorts Ah’ve had since Ah wis seventeen – Ah’m suspicious aboot jist how smug Ah am that they still fit. The swimmin costume wis a weird present, he admitted it himsel. But it’s blue an he hinks it brings oot ma eyes, which are actual a pale green, bit he doesnae need tae know that. Whit probably actual happened wis that he panicked an ran tae Sainsbury’s. There wis probably a sale oan the summer hings. The rest o ma presents were throw pillows fae the Home Section an a new set o bed sheets that Ah pure hate bit cannae bring masel tae be truthful aboot. Sometimes Ah hink Marie fae work is right an Ah don’t actual love Jack. Bit then he looks at me wae that wee kicked puppy look he gets an Ah have tae admit Ah melt a bit inside. It also helps that he looks at me like Ah hung the moon aw by masel. Whit really is stressin me, however, is the knowledge that in his pocket there is currently an engagement ring in a nice wee velvet box. An its his Granny’s. Who died last year. Ah cannae say no tae his deid Granny’s ring. She wisnae even happily married; if Ah accepted that deid wumman’s ring Ah’d probably curse us tae be miserable forever. The diamond is a mingin colour an aw.
He hands me an ice cream cone an complains aboot the price. Ninety-nines fae the van used tae be ninety-nine pence apparently. Ah wouldnae know. A perk o bein born in a time o constant financial crisis is that Ah don’t know aboot a time where prices were good or classed as ‘fair’. Everyhin is jist expensive these days. An don’t get me startit oan petrol.
Ma mum used tae take me an’ Jack tae Saltcoats when we first startit seeing each other in uni. She thought we were cute – she’d tease us tae kiss fir her shitey digital camera she inherited in Auntie Carol’s will. We were immortalised oan the same sim card alang wae photos taken mournfully at Auntie Carol’s wake. Teenagers covered in meltit ice cream an raspberry sauce bookendin very sad an very drunk adults crowdin roon the coffin that hid been shoved in her wee box room.
The ring in his pocket has been carried aroon fir two weeks now. First noticed when we went tae a nice wee Italian in Battlefield fir his birthday. His trousers were slightly too tight an Ah could see the outline in his pocket. When nothin happened an he fell asleep that night, Ah checked the pockets like a maniac and there it wis. A box o cigarettes he promised he wis quittin, and his Granny’s auld ring. Ah could have strangled him.
Jack asks me if Ah’m okay. He asks me that everyday Ah hink. He’s nervous Ah’m gonnae call it a day an walk away. He’s four years aulder than me an hinks that makes him wan o the OAPs traumatised by drunk teenagers the day. In reality it makes him want weans an a mortgage when Ah’m happy rentin fae a fairly dodgy but mentally sound landlord cawed Paul an being ‘child free by choice’ fir a bit longer. Ah have nae worries aboot ma fertility, Jack worries aboot that. Ah dunno why, Ah feel very fertile. It’s why Ah’m oan two forms o birth control (three if you count the general repulsion Ah have at his smell when he’s back fae the sites he works oan). Heavy periods jist run in ma family. If Ah had Endometriosis or PCOS or any other o the fuckin ovary related diseases Ah could develop, Ah’d know by now an Ah’d milk it fir aw it wid be worth. Jack wid probably wait oan me hand an foot. Ah don’t know why the thought o acceptin a proposal fae him makes ma eye twitch an my lungs lose aw their air. We could be engaged fir ages. Neither o us can afford a weddin the now. But the ring would weigh me doon until Ah’m buried under the Kelvin line we live above.
Ah tell Jack Ah’m fine an try an focus mare on the (quite ugly) beachfront we’re stood oan. Full o weans an it stinks o the sea an burning sugar. Somewan has lit a bonfire that deffo will make the news the night when it probably injures somewan stupit enough tae fa’ intae it whilst they’re paralytic. Ah close ma eyes and really try tae be mare positive. It isnae in ma nature. The ice cream is nice, though. Tastes like hame. Ah hear somewan behind us remind their pals that Mr Whippy was somewhat invented by Thatcher. Ah open ma eyes and try no tae hink aboot privatisation an the inevitable collapse of the Union. It’s a warm day an ma boyfriend took me tae the beach. He’ll watch oor bags tae let me go swimmin. An he knows me enough that he wouldnae propose if Ah had wet hair and wis shiverin. It may be summer but it’s Scottish summer. Wet hair is still ice cauld.
He leads me tae a teeny spot o sand that hasnae awready bin claimed by a family or a group of weans eyeing up proper adults fir a jump in. His airm snakes aroon ma back an Ah lean intae his hold like Ah’m oan autopilot. It’s whit Ah dae. He takes me places an buys me ice cream an haulds me. Ah like tae hink Ah offer some sort o emotional support fir him too. Ah ask him aboot his (borin) job in the NHS. He doesnae even work in the medicine bit. It’s aw contracts an spreadsheets that he tells me he doesnae understaun haulf the time. Ah secretly hink that wee detail is darlin. He doesnae ask me aboot ma work, mainly because Ah know he doesnae like that Ah’m no in a ‘proper industry’. Ah cannae help that ma drama degree is currently most profitable when Ah’m dressed as a Disney princess an singing tae a group o weans, e-numbered oot their nut. Mibbe this is why Ah’m oan edge. Ah’m surrounded by weans here which means Ah’m surrounded by customers. It has nothin tae dae wae the lovely man who wants me tae be his wife.
‘We should get a drink later’ he suggests, his fingers playing wae ma hair.
‘You’re drivin.’
‘You get a drink an Ah’ll get a coke or somehin.’
‘You tryin tae get me drunk, Jack?’
He smiles at the invocation o his name. Fucked it.
‘Ah’d never get you drunk deliberately, you’re a messy drunk.’ That’s a lie. Ah’m a fantastic drunk. Ah get so funny. Everywan loves me when Ah’m drunk. Everywan appreciates the Disney songs Ah sing. Ah’m no even a Disney Adult. Mibbe Ah’ll get drunk the night and tell him Ah don’t want tae get married or have weans right now. Or wae him. Ah’d have weans in a few years, but Ah don’t hink Ah could have weans wae a man in such a borin job. Mummy cannae be a Disney Princess when Daddy is a …spreadsheet maker?
Ah kiss his cheek and it’s entirely disingenuous. Ah bite intae ma ice cream as a form of punishment. Ah really should see a dentist wae the amount it hurts. Nevermind. Mum had her wisdom teeth taken oot when Ah was seventeen and said all sorts when she woke up fae the procedure. Jack would insist tae come tae any dental work Ah needed done oan account o the fact Ah’ve bitten every dentist Ah’ve ever had. This would lead tae me tellin him everyhin Ah’ve kept quiet the past few years. Ah know Ah need tae take some responsibility here fir no tellin him Ah really don’t hink we’ll be happy in ten years when we’re auld and bitter and definitely weanless cause Ah refuse tae have unprotected sex wae him.
We sit fir a few mare minutes and finish oor ice creams in an entirely fake peaceful silence. There are weans screamin everywhere. He’s goin tae dae it any minute now. Ah can feel his breathin gettin aw shaky. This wis an awful idea. Ah should hiv just said Ah’m no feelin well. He’s finished his ice cream. Fucks sake.
