‘He slowed down a lot and then he went to bed about a month ago and didn’t get up.’
‘I wonder why he didn’t call me? I’d have come straight out. I could have made sure he was comfortable.’
‘He wrote pain med prescriptions for me to get filled in Roscommon.’
‘He wrote prescriptions for himself? That’s not exactly legal.’
‘He put them in my name. He said he wouldn’t go to jail and neither would I.’
‘I see.’ She paused. ‘And when exactly did he pass away?’
‘I found him dead on Wednesday when I brought him in his tea in the morning.’
‘Oh my dear, that must have been so distressing. Now, I don’t want to pry but Maureen Kenny –’
‘Who?’
‘Maureen, the butcher’s wife? She said that you said there was no funeral and that you had him cremated on your own.’
‘Yes.’
‘And where was this cremation held?’
‘In the green barn.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The green barn.’
‘Here? Behind the house?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you not think to call someone? Me, the hospital, an undertaker?’
I felt like I was in trouble, like I’d done something wrong.
‘He told me to put him out with the bins.’
‘He … what? He was joking, he didn’t mean that!’
‘He didn’t tell me it was a joke.’
‘But how can you be sure he was dead?’
‘He wasn’t breathing. Do you want to see the incinerator?’ I asked.
Her eyes opened wide. ‘That’s not the way to dispose of … Sally, this is serious. Only a medical professional can certify a death. Didn’t he leave any instructions about his funeral?’
‘No, I don’t …’ and then I remembered about the envelope. ‘He left this for me.’ I pulled it out of my pocket.
‘And what does it say?’
‘I haven’t opened it yet.’
I was getting bothered with all of this talking. Either I don’t talk at all, or I talk too much and I say things that don’t make sense to anyone but me.
I put my hands over my ears and Angela moderated her voice.
‘Would you like me to open it? May I read it?’
I threw the envelope at her and went to the piano, but it didn’t calm me. I went to my room and crawled under the duvet and the soft blue blanket. I began to pull hair from my head. I didn’t know what to do. I wondered when Angela would leave. I listened to hear the front door shut.
5
A soft knocking sound woke me up. It was dusk outside. I must have blacked out. It happens when I am distressed, though it hadn’t happened in many years.
‘Sally?’ Angela whispered. I looked at my watch. She had been there for three hours and twenty-five minutes.
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve made some tea and beans on toast. You should get up because we have to talk.’
‘Is there sugar in the tea?’
‘Not yet,’ she said, ‘but I’ll add some.’
‘Which mug did you use?’
‘I … I’m not sure.’
I opened the door and followed Angela down the hall.
She gave me my tea in Dad’s Scrabble mug. I added a spoon and a half of sugar and an extra teaspoon of milk. She had made herself tea in a china mug that neither Dad nor I had ever used.
‘So, I’ve read your dad’s letters –’
‘There’s more than one?’
‘Yes. It’s okay, love. The thing is, I have to call the guards, and they will want to talk to you. But I don’t want you to worry because I’m going to be with you, and I’ll explain your condition to them and I’ll make sure they are gentle with you. But, and this is the hard bit, they will probably want to search the house and you should come and stay with Nadine and me for a little bit, while they carry out their enquiries.’
‘What enquiries?’
‘It’s just that … it’s … unusual to burn a body of a family member, it’s not legal, and I’m so sorry to tell you this, love, but there were funeral instructions in his letter … among other things.’
‘Oh. Why would the guards want to search the house? On TV, they always leave a terrible mess.’
‘They’d want to reassure themselves that your dad died of natural causes, but it’s clear in his letter that he knew he had little time left. It’s obvious that he trusted you, and that he loved you. I’m confident the post-mortem will show that he was already dead.’
‘I don’t want visitors and I don’t want to come to your house.’
‘Sally, if I can’t control this, you might end up in a prison cell for a few nights or more. Please believe me. Your mum and dad would have wanted me to help you. In the letter, your dad said you should ring me when he died.’
I pulled at my hair again. She reached out but I flinched away from her. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,’ she said.
‘But he didn’t say when to open the letter. He just wrote to open it after he died. I didn’t know I was supposed to open it that same day.’
‘I know, but I’m afraid there is going to be a lot of fuss now. I’m going to call the guards, and they will want to interview you. You might need a solicitor. But I will be with you and I’ll explain anything that your dad hasn’t explained in the letters, although he was thorough.’ She paused. ‘There are things in the letters that you may find … upsetting. But we will take it slowly. Your dad only wanted you to read one section per week. There are three different parts.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, there’s … a lot to take in. I thought your mum and dad were open with me about your circumstances, but it seems there was a lot they kept hidden from everyone.’
‘About me?’
‘Yes, Sally. But we can discuss that another time. I have to call the guards now. Would you like a mild sedative before they come? To help you stay calm?’
‘Yes please.’
6
Two guards came, not one. One man, one woman. I didn’t look at their faces. They were nice and calm until I told them I’d put my dad in a refuse sack and then into the incinerator. The smaller one raised her voice. ‘What in the name of God did you do –’
Angela asked her to lower her voice. The pill that Angela gave me made me feel like I was in a kind of dream world. They said they would have to get a forensics team straight away and that I needed to pack a bag and leave the house, but that I must leave out the clothes I had worn the day my father died. They groaned when I presented them with a neat pile, freshly laundered. Angela said she needed to give a copy of Dad’s letter to the guards and she photocopied it in his office while I went to my room to pack a bag. The woman guard followed me, tutting. I used Dad’s suitcase. I didn’t have one of my own. He wouldn’t mind. It was dark, and it was after my bedtime.
‘Will you please not make a mess?’ I said. The man said they’d do their best and the woman made a harrumphing noise and said, ‘You’ll be lucky.’ Angela gave the man the photocopied pages and asked him to make sure that they were given to the highest-ranking officers in the investigation. He nodded. He said little. He asked for the keys of the Fiat. I gave them to him but asked him to make sure they repositioned the seat when they were finished going wherever they needed to go in it. They said they would need me to come to the station in Roscommon in the morning. Angela said that she would bring me there herself.