Nine-year-old Henry Page is a club-footed, deep-thinking loner, spending his summer holidays reading, roaming the melting streets of his suburb, playing with his best friend Janice and her younger brother and sister. Then one day Janice asks Henry to spend the day at the beach with them. He declines, a decision that will stay with him forever.
Time's Long Ruin is based loosely on the disappearance of the Beaumont children from Glenelg beach on Australia Day, 1966. It is a novel about friendship, love and loss; a story about those left behind, and how they carry on: the searching, the disappointments, the plans and dreams that are only ever put on hold.
Winner, Unpublished manuscript award, Adelaide Festival awards for literature
Stephen Orr is an Australian writer of novels, short stories and non-fiction. His works are set in uniquely Australian settings, including coastal towns, outback regions and the Australian suburbs. His fiction explores the dynamics of Australian families and communities.
“A few cars slowed, and heads turned and looked at the house, mouths flapping and fingers pointing out the poor kiddies’ house, looking so normal, like everyone else’s. They would have to find other ways of observing the Rileys’ suffering, of tasting their despair without swallowing it, of hearing and smelling and touching what they’d all known in imperceptibly small doses. 7A was a nightmare. A fairytale. A morality tale. A horror story with wilting agapanthus”
Time’s Long Ruin is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Stephen Orr. During Adelaide’s oven-hot summer of 1960, nine-year-old Henry Page and his best friend (and next-door-neighbour) Janice Riley fill their days with hide-and-seek, cricket, reading, writing stories and visits to the beach. Janice’s younger siblings, seven-year-old Anna and four-year-old Gavin, are often part of the action. Home chores have to be done, and Henry likes to help out Con Pedavoli with the level-crossing gates and Doctor George Gunn with his library.
Henry idolises his dad, Detective Constable Bob Page: Bob and neighbour Bill Riley often discuss the mysterious case of the Somerton Man, and Henry listens in, sure his Dad will one day solve it. Then, on Australia Day, Henry decides not to go to the beach with his best friend and her siblings: the three never return, and life on Thomas Street, Croydon turns upside down.
Orr divides his tale into two parts: the first proceeds at a steady pace as Henry’s narration sets the scene; the second starts on the day the children go missing, and details the devastating effect that the disappearance of the three children has on the neighbourhood. Henry’s narrative is quite subjective: he often surmises what other players in the drama would have thought and said; in Part Two, he regularly talks to Janice, who visits him often to comment on events, but never reveals her true fate.
Considering his own age, Orr manages to convey the 1960 Adelaide summer with amazing accuracy. The moods, attitudes and common practices of the day are also expertly rendered. The unsolved disappearance of the Beaumont Children is quite obviously the basis of the story: the names, dates and locations are only slightly altered. Guilt and blame feature large in the story, but it also touches on depression, friendship and loyalty, the effect of mechanisation, grief, paedophilia and rough justice A powerful read.
I put off reading this book. Despite its inclusion in the longlist for the 2011 Miles Franklin Award and regional shortlist for the 2011 Commonwealth Writers’ Prize, I feared it would be like the execrable Room and I don’t much like the idea of novelists mining the pain of celebrity victims for their books. For Time’s Long Ruin is loosely based on the disappearance of the Beaumont children in Adelaide in 1966, and their parents, if still living, would be in their eighties. They have, by all accounts, had enough of the publicity and speculation that has surrounded the tragedy of their loss, and I think there is no merit in pandering to ghoulish public curiosity about crime of any kind, much less this one.
Stephen Orr, however, has written a sensitive book, which has for me transformed the static grainy images of the lost children that have haunted the nation’s consciousness for forty years or more. In his novel they are real people, with individual personalities and the irrepressible charm of real children. For all of Part 1 Janice, Anna and Gavin Riley are neighbours and playmates to Henry, aged nine. In a carefree world that ended on Australia Day 1960 [1] they rejoice in the anarchy of street life, late hours and minimal parental supervision, free to roam in a now mythic Australian childhood.
In this novel, based loosely on the disappearance of the three Beaumont children from Glenelg beach on Australia Day, 1966, Mr Orr takes the reader on a meditative journey imagining lives and consequences.
As the novel opens, Henry Page, still living in his childhood home on Thomas Street in Croydon, some fifty years later, is remembering the past. Henry was nine years old in 1960 when his best friend and next-door neighbour Janice Riley and her younger siblings Anna and Gavin disappeared. The children are enjoying their summer holidays: playing, exploring, teasing and (at times) trying to make sense of their parents. Henry has a club foot, which impacts on his ability to run or play sport. Janice stands up for him when he is bullied. Henry’s father, Bob, is a police officer, who has worked on the case of the Somerton Man. Henry’s mother, Ellen, is enigmatic and at times difficult. Bill Riley, the children’s father, is a travelling salesman, and can be violent towards his wife Liz when drinking. There are few secrets between the Pages and the Rileys. The wives support each other as do the husbands. From the first pages of Part One of this novel, Mr Orr recreates the suburban working-class life many of us, children of the 1950s, will remember. In this novel, this carefree world ends on Australia Day in 1960.
‘The trouble with time is that it goes, and is gone, and you’re left standing somewhere unexpected, next to someone you met in a bookshop or bus stop and married and had children with and soon won’t see again for the rest of eternity.’
On Australia Day 1960, during a heatwave, the Riley children want to go to the beach. Their father has travelled away for work and while their mother wants to take them, she is caught up, at the last minute, by her sister’s illness. Janice asks Henry to go with them, but he declines. This is a decision that still haunts him.
At the beginning of Part Two, the Riley children go to Semaphore Beach by train. They never return home, and no trace is ever found of them. The families, the community, and the reader travel individually and collectively through the agony of the search. Bill blames Liz for letting the children go unaccompanied. Henry blames himself for not going: would it have made a difference? Would four children have been safer than three? Con and Rosa Pedavoli, whose son Alex drowned years earlier, understand the pervasive nature of grief. Their memorial to their son has met with mixed reactions from their neighbours. One of the strengths of this novel is how Mr Orr creates a community which is both supportive (of some) and suspicious (of others). Marital conflicts are accepted, ‘New Australians’ less so. When the children first go missing, the hope is that they’ve lost track of time and missed the train. As more time passes, hope is displaced by desperation and recrimination.
Imagine the pain of the parents as the absence of their children stretches from hours to days, weeks and then years. The pain of not knowing, and then of never knowing.
‘The newsreader had already moved onto Menzies. Time wasn’t passing anymore. It had passed.’
In real life, this carefree world ended for many of us on Australia Day 1966 when the Beaumont children disappeared. Both parents and children became more wary, less trusting. As a parent in the 1980s and 1990s, I was far less relaxed than my parents had been in the 1950s and 1960s.
How can you make a story "gripping" when the outcome is well known? Somehow Stephen Orr manages to achieve this. Many Australians, especially Adelaideans, know about the Beaumont children. This book is loosely based on their story, with some significant changes, the most obvious being names and exact locations. Nevertheless, the incident on which the story is based is unmistakable to most Australians over the age of 40.
Orr recasts the story, from the point of view of the next door neighbour and best friend of the children, who is now adult, looking back on his childhood. The boy's father also happens to be a police detective, which allows Orr to provide a full picture of the police investigation.
The book beautifully re-creates a suburban community in the 1960s. This is its strength really, and you learn as much about life in that small part of Adelaide as you do about the children themselves.
There are parallel threads running through the book: the family lives of the boy, of his neighbours, of the railway crossing operator, of the local chiropractor. Orr paints their lives with great warmth and insight.
It's a very good book indeed: both as a gripping page turner, but also as a historical perspective on what may have been a turning point in Australian society - the point at which trust and community began to disappear.
My only criticism is that perhaps the book is a bit long. Then again, I was never tempted to skip over sections.
Such a heart rending novel based on the facts about the three young Beaumont children who were abducted from Glenelg Beach in Adelaide in January 1966 and were never found. The author tells his story with so much compassion, honesty and humour woven through amazingly credible descriptions of the neighbours and family who were involved in their daily lives.I was thoroughly engrossed and at times choked up at the sheer horror that the parents had to endure. It beggars belief that someone could commit such a heinous crime and never be caught or accounted for. I thoroughly recommend this read.
A fictionalised version of the Beaumont children disappearance, as told by their young next-door-neighbour Henry. Adelaide in 1960 brought vividly to life as the small dramas in small suburban lives inflate to become national news when the Riley children disappear from a day at the beach. This is a stunning, compelling and un-put-downable novel. I loved every page.
Interesting book by a local author, based on the disappearance of the Beaumont children. Set in the 1950's, it captures the culture of Adelaide at the time and always the feelings of those left behind. Not a cheerful book, but hey, life ain't always wine and roses.
One of my SA road trip books. It was much better than I expected. More about those left behind, how to fill the yawning gap left in a life; the love between a father and a son. Recommended as a good holiday read.
I'm sure that the recent spotlight on the Beaumont children has reignited interest in this sad and unsolved case. Theories and suspects abound, but nothing has come of any of these. At the heart of this case are the grainy, dated images of three little children staring into the camera. We look at these, often seeing our own childish selves reflected in the choppy haircuts, the drab clothes and the naïveté. A time of childish exploration; of adult dominance and secrets kept behind suburban facades. This is what led me to 'Time's Long Ruin'. Knowing that this book was not going to be a biographical account of what is arguably Australia's best known case of child disappearance, I was prepared for the variations and the changes necessary to write a stand alone novel, based, however loosely, on the lost children. It's always a leap of faith when delving into the known past to produce an account of a time gone by, but largely well remembered by those who were there, by an author who wasn't. Which is possibly why I wish the author had been slightly more scrupulous when including some factors in his story. Just a simple search would have told him that Australia Day, 1960, was not he actual public holiday, as it also was not in 1966. Queen beds were virtually unheard of then, and people were not disposed to leave flowers, candles and photos out in public, no matter how deep the tragedy. Likewise, no school would invite people to a prayer service at eight in the evening, and churches hadn't yet substituted the obligatory Sunday service with the more user friendly Saturday evening. Just small things, and there are probably more, but they rankle, as did Ellen's admission that she had, in the socially and educationally constricted 1950s, almost completed a medical degree, the abandonment of, which her parents seem to have forgiven, and her husband forgotten. The sense of abject loss, after the children's disappearance, is never quite conveyed. The protagonist, as children do, moves on to a new set of friends. The children's mother goes back to work; the father loses his desire to work. Life goes on, and yet it doesn't. The children, as in real life, are never found. Their shadows and their ghosts mingle with the living, but provide no answers.
I usually really like Stephen Orr's novels but this one was a bit long. Maybe because it was based on the real life story of the missing Beaumont children and everyone knows that the mystery was never solved, I found myself skipping pages. I wondered why the author changed the location from Somerton to Croyden? Surely just changing the children's names was enough? And why did he select a real street, Thomas Street, as the setting for the children's home. However my interest was held for quite a while as I know someone who lived in Thomas Street, Croyden in the 1980's.
I read this purely as it had been selected to represent our state ( SA)in the 'our story' competition, but found it difficult, depressing and confronting! As a mother, the pain and heartbreak was clearly conveyed and felt by the reader, in more ways than one, and I felt, very strongly the urge to hold my children close, and within sight. Once I committed myself to the book, I didn't put it down, however, I did not find it a pleasurable read at all. Between domestic violence, pedophilia and child abuse, post natal depression and the ultimate tragedy of the story, made for difficult and depressing reading. While very descriptive of the city, and state at that era, sadly I cannot understand, how such a depressing and tragic story can truly represent our state. I believe that while this dreadful tale is part of our heritage, our state offers many other dimensions than this, and the sadness and despair that this book leaves you with, is therefore not consistent with how the majority view SA. While a very well written and detailed book, it is a tale of hardship, desperation and despair. Do not expect any feelings of content or happiness on completion of reading. Do expect to continue to feel the pain of families of missing children.....everywhere.....for a long, long time
An excellent character study of the devastating effects on a family and a community from the unexplained disappearance of three young siblings. The story is a retelling of the disappearance of the Beaumont children, but using different names and locations. As a South Australian brought up with knowledge of the events surrounding the disappearance, the familiarity of the story gave it a particular poignancy (or perhaps macabre interest). Although the author altered the facts, the physical situations and places are real, which for me evoked a strong connection with the story and stirred up long dormant emotions around the Beaumont children. I really enjoyed it, but perhaps my enjoyment was enhanced by the familiarity of the plot. It makes me wonder if someone without the connection could enjoy it as much.
I feel ambivalent about this book. The voice seemed flat, but in the logic of the story this makes some sense. The narrator is an older man, stuck in the past, reflecting back on a claustrophobic life in Adelaide's suburbs. But it left the book lifeless. The scenes where Henry imagines what happens broke the submersion in the fictional world. It picked up at the beginning of the second half, but ultimately the two parts were mirror images of each other: Henry was still disconnected, the mothers were still hysterical and the fathers insensitive. Attempts something like 'The Virgin Suicides' but lacks the sophistication.
This is quite a long book for its subject matter. It is fiction based loosely on the disappearance of the Beaumont children in Adelaide in the 1960s. It is well written but ambles along for most of the book. Like real life, nothing is ever resolved and in many ways it is quite depressing. Life is like that though. Certainly, if you live in South Australia and have any memories of that time it proves very evocative of time and place.