The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp by Leonie Swann EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Leonie Swann
- Language: English
- Genre: Dark Fantasy
- Format: PDF/ EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The doorbell rang, and Agnes Sharp abandoned the search for her false
teeth, simultaneously pleased and annoyed.
Pleased that she had even heard the doorbell—her ears hadn’t really
been playing along recently, and sometimes all she could hear was a highpitched, nerve-jangling ringing, accompanied by a rushing sound. So, the
doorbell was a welcome change.
On the other hand, it would be quite embarrassing to open the door
without the aforementioned false teeth, unclear and toothless. But the caller
had to be gotten rid of before he had the idea of going snooping around in
the garden—teeth or no teeth.
“I’m coming! Juft a minute!” Agnes bellowed into the hall, then she
sallied forth. Out of the room. Mind the threshold! And then the stairs. A
step forward, a step down, then bring down the other foot. A vertigoinducing moment without any sense of balance, a deep breath, then gather
courage for the next step down. And so on. Twenty-six times.
A minute, my foot!
The doorbell rang again.
Her hip grumbled.
The doorbell rang once more.
“Juft one moment, for God fake!”
When she reached the first landing, a real rage had built up in her,
towards the stairs, the caller, the renegade false teeth, but also her
housemates. Why did she always get the difficult jobs? Like scaling the
stairs. Or taking out the bins. Or . . . absolutely everything!
Edwina would have made it down the stairs somewhat quicker, but she
would of course have been useless at the door. Bernadette was sitting in her
room crying her blind eyes out. At this time Marshall was mostly
somewhere on the Internet, unreachable, connected to the computer as if by
the umbilical cord. And you obviously couldn’t expect Winston to attempt
the descent without the stairlift.
Why had nobody repaired the stupid stairlift?
Then Agnes remembered that it had been her job to call for it to be
repaired, but with her unreliable hearing and her aversion to the telephone
she had kept putting it off. It was her own fault then, as so often seemed to
be the case these days.
The only scapegoat left was the caller, and her rage towards him was
mounting.
She had mastered the last step and was dragging herself to the front
door with a calculated slowness accompanied by the doorbell’s staccato
chimes. Did they think she was deaf? What was the buffoon playing at?
What did they even want at this time? And what time was it anyway?
Agnes fumbled briefly with the latch, then threw the door open. She
would have liked to give the caller a piece of her mind, but nothing came to
her.
“Yef?” she snapped. She didn’t quite carry it off and got even more
annoyed.
“Err . . . Miss Sharp?” The caller peered rudely past her into the house.
A bloody whippersnapper with officious glasses and a briefcase under his
arm. This couldn’t be a good sign. Agnes crossed her thin arms, while the
whippersnapper switched on a winning smile, rather too late.
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