Strange Sally Diamond by Liz Nugent EPUB & PDF

Strange Sally Diamond by Liz Nugent EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

• Status: Available For Free Download
• Authors: Liz Nugent
• Language: English
• Genre: Kidnapping Thrillers
• Format: PDF / EPUB
• Size: 2 MB
• Price: Free

‘Put me out with the bins,’ he said, regularly. ‘When I die, put me out
with the bins. I’ll be dead, so I won’t know any different. You’ll be crying
your eyes out,’ and he would laugh and I’d laugh too because we both knew
that I wouldn’t be crying my eyes out. I never cry.

When the time came, on Wednesday 29th November 2017, I followed
his instructions. He was small and frail and eighty-two years old by then, so
it was easy to get him into one large garden waste bag.

It was a month since he’d been up and about. ‘No doctors,’ he said. ‘I
know what they’re like.’ And he did, because he was a doctor, of
psychiatry. He was still able to write prescriptions, though, and would send
me to Roscommon to get those filled out.

I didn’t kill him; it wasn’t like that. I brought him in tea that morning
and he was cold in his bed. Eyes closed, thank God. I hate it on those TV
dramas when corpses stare up at the detective inspector. Maybe you only
have your eyes open if you’ve been murdered?
‘Dad?’ I said, though I knew he was gone.

I sat on the end of the bed, took the lid off his beaker and drank the tea,
missing the sugar I put in mine. I checked his pulse first, but I could tell by
the waxiness of his skin. Only, waxy isn’t the right word. It was more like
… his skin didn’t belong to him any more, or he didn’t belong to it.
Dragging the waste bag across the yard to the barn was hard. The
ground was frosted so I had to heave the bag up on to my shoulder every
few minutes so that it wouldn’t rip. Once a month, when he was well, Dad
would empty the bins into the incinerator. He refused to pay the bin charges
and we lived in such a secluded spot that the council didn’t chase us about
it.

I knew that corpses decomposed and began to rot and smell, so I
carefully placed the bag into the incinerator barrel. I splashed some petrol
over the top and set it going. I didn’t stay to hear it burn. He was no longer
he, it was a body, an ‘it’, in a domestic incinerator beside a barn in a field
beside a house at the end of a lane, off a minor road.

Sometimes, when describing where we lived over the phone, Dad would
say, ‘I’m off the middle of nowhere. If you go to the middle of nowhere and
then take a left, a right, another left until you come to a roundabout, take the
second exit.’
He didn’t like visitors. Apart from our doctor, Angela, we had callers
maybe once every two years since Mum died.

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