Next door to us, crowded on the east and west by large houses, was the Mantles' narrow little brick place. It seemed to be subsiding crookedly into the earth like an ill-laid tombstone, and was a sunless warren, dim humidity in summer, dim moisture in winter. The laneway to its back door ran flush against our side wall, and beneath the Mantles' lounge-room window, a furze of moss grew a quarter of an inch thick on the mortar.
Tom Keneally writes a good 'yarn' and Peter Hoskings is an ace reader of Australian stories.
The publishers in their summary obviously do not wish to spoil the story by telling you much. If you do read their summary and have an eye for literature, you can guess this story is well written.
If you look at the artwork you will notice an old car and an old plane. If you listen to the sample you can tell it is a story from a young boy's perspective.
For Australians it is a great Summer Holiday listen and for everyone else who likes Keneally, it is sure to please.
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