Our likeable young protagonist, Robin, is sent to stay with her great aunt in the countryside for the summer holidays during her mother’s convalescence. She’s bright, resourceful and adaptable and gets along quite well, but is lonely and pines for other children to play with. A few days into her stay, Robin discovers the single locked door in her aunt’s mansion, and through the keyhole can see it’s a nursery filled with delightfully old-school toys. Her mission to enter the nursery and uncover its secrets sets in motion a chain of events which sees Robin intimately connected to the history of the old house and its inhabitants.
I read and loved this book as a child, but over the years forgot the title and most of the plotline. All I could recall was a sense of mystery and pleasant melancholy, the red India-rubber ball and a character named Theobald. Following a conversation about favourite childhood books, my husband used these sparse details to track down the title and author and bought me the Kindle edition as part of my second wedding anniversary present. My idea of romantic.
This is a wonderful, literary but very readable children’s book. The tension and mystery are perfectly incorporated and kept me turning the pages. While fantastical, it’s not sugar-coated and inane like so many children’s stories are; there’s a real sense of loss and longing which pervades the book and I finished with a lump in my throat. Apart from all this, I’m a bit biased towards the story because it’s set in Northern NSW (one of my favourite places in the world) and revolves around awesome things like time travel, gothic mansions, dusty books and family history.
In conclusion: fabulous book. My eight-year-old self had great taste.