A beautiful and thought provoking book about poverty and hardship. This book had the power to bring tears to the eyes a number of times. George is a delightful character who does his best for a little girl and her mother who have had a very hard life so far.

I loved this book. It was basically a charming story about a sweet old man, an energetic child and her footloose mother. The story unfolds as relationships develop and George (the old man) reflects on his life. No real highs or lows, but the author develops the characters well and the plot is solid enough that you want to read on and find out which path the character's lives take.

This one's an Aussie ripper. Evans weaves a beautiful tale about belonging right in the centre of modern suburban poverty.

George is old and lonely and pretty bloody hilarious. Yes, the book is simple and sentimental but there's a world of truth in it's situation which grapples with aging, mediocrity, neglect and the meaning of family. If you loved Lost and Found and/or The Rosie Project, then get stuck into this one.

“Every night for nearly fifty years Pen’s head lay on that pillow. He loved the way, in the early days, her hair spread across the white slip like marmalade, glowing with the colour of oranges and sunshine”

Mercy Street is the third novel by Australian author, Tess Evans. Seventy-six year-old widower George Johnson leads a pretty quiet life. Not a lot happens. He endures impromptu visits from his slightly-older and still-very-bossy sister, Shirl. About the only thing he looks forward to, now that Pen is gone, is a beer (or two) with his mate Redgum down at the local pub. So when he is left looking after five-year-old Rory (Aurora Jane) while her mother Angie disappears on the back of a motorbike with “Amp”, he wonders if this is more than he can handle.

“His agitation is such that he walks past his house and on to the park. His heart begins to thump in a way that seems ominous. What if he has a heart attack? He brightens at the prospect. Someone else will have to sort it all out – not such a bad thing. Lets him off the hook. He tries to conjure up central chest pain but salvation-by-coronary eludes him”

Somehow though, he does manage. Shirl, Redgum, his neighbours, the Nguyens, and even Angie’s best friend, Bree all step in to help out in true “it takes a village to raise a child” fashion. Rory settles in and George begins to look forward to the daily routine: once again his life has some purpose. But then, some years later, everything changes for him again, and unexpectedly, George finds himself considering actions quite uncharacteristic of a steady, responsible widower.

In this heart-warming tale, Evans gives the reader an appealing cast of realistic characters who display very human flaws. George, in particular, is so well-described that many readers will recognise him from down the street or around the corner. And the fairy tales he creates for Rory are quite delightful. Her support cast are also believable and more than one-dimensional.

Evans has a real talent for conveying the mood of the moment: “Stepping inside, he felt the indifference of an empty house. No cooking smells. No music playing. And the underlying reek of dirty dishes” and “In the weeks following the funeral, visitors sort of drained away, leaving random scraps of food and pity in their wake” are just two examples.

Her descriptive prose is truly evocative: “Although he’s impatient to see her, he notices with concern that she is never part of that bubbling, brimming entity that flows down the steps like lava – an entity that on closer inspection comprises myriad groups and pairs. On the contrary, Rory walks quietly, alone, looking around for him with an anxiety he finds both touching and troubling” and “These images of this little girl are sharp at first but suddenly lose shape. He reaches out and cups his hands to capture them, but they fall through his fingers like water” are samples.

Evans touches on a myriad of topics: the heartbreak of infertility; the anxiety over parental responsibilities; the fear engendered by domestic violence; the loss of independence with ageing. She demonstrates the devastating effect that a scandal-hungry press and social media can have on a person’s reputation. Grief and loneliness, teen pregnancy, male pride, shame, and drug use also feature.

While there are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments (especially at George’s unvoiced asides), there are also quite a few lump-in-the-throat occasions and many readers will be moved to tears. Tess Evans’s books are a joy to read, and it is especially gratifying is that there is no Hollywood ending, but a true-to-life chain of events leading to a credible conclusion. Once again, Evans does not disappoint.

With thanks to the author and Harper Collins Australia for this book to read and review.