It has been a strange day. I caught the first announcement that Harold ‘Fred’ Shipman had killed himself as I was drying my hair, or at least that which clings on.
By that, I mean that he was responsible (probably) for murdering my mother-in-law’s cousin as well as up to 260 others. Our own feelings are tempered by the fact that we never, ever, knew the aforementioned cousin.
The strange thing to me is that it should happen so soon after the discovery of the body of Richard Stevens. Consipracy theorist, moi? Absolutely!