Getting the body into the large garden-waste bag wasn’t too hard; he’d been a small man, old and frail. Carrying it across the frost-covered yard to the green barn on their property, down the end of a tiny lane just outside the Irish village of Carricksheedy, was tougher. Into the barrel, a splash of petrol, a whoosh of flame. Job done. Or not, as it turned out.
“Sally Diamond is the first likeable protagonist I’ve written,” says Liz Nugent. Likeable may not be the first adjective that comes to mind for someone we meet as she’s just stuffed her dead father into a bag and tried to reduce him to ashes. Those in Sally’s village certainly have others. “Strange Sally Diamond, the weirdo,” say local schoolchildren, even before the failed incineration. “F---ing psycho,” says
