“that warm feeling … of what is right and good about the world overwhelmed me on closing this book” ~ Books and Publishing.
“beautiful and absorbing” ~ Sydney Morning Herald
“resonantly powerful at every bite … Just beautiful” ~ Australian Women’s Weekly.
“captivates to the end'” ~ Good Reading
There were stories that the Peach King was a magic tree, older than time. Others said he had once been a great man, ruling over fertile lands and gentle people with a beautiful queen. Whatever the whispers, he was one of them now; his fruit – though a little larger and sweeter – formed just as theirs did.
It’s the summer of 1971, not far from the stone fruit capital of New South Wales, where Mr Wigg lives alone on what is left of his family farm. Mrs Wigg has been gone a while now but he thinks of her every day. His daughter, too. Mr Wigg spends his days tending his magnificent orchard, harvesting the fruits of his labours and, when it’s on, listening to the cricket. Things are changing though, with Australia and England playing a one-day match, and his new neighbours, the Traubners, planting grapes for wine. His son is on at him to move into town – it’s true a few little things are starting to go wrong every now and then – but Mr Wigg has his fruit trees, chooks, and garden to care for. His grandchildren visit often: to cook, eat, and hear his old stories. And there’s a special project he has to finish.
Mr Wigg’s hammer sounded on the anvil like the village bell, each stroke sending off a spray of burning sparks. He beat on, shaping the branches of the tree that had come to him in his dreams.