Author Cassie Hamer gifts us stories that are perfect for these stressful pandemic times: tales of quiet neighbourhoods brimming with secrets; of struggling parents trying their best; of the best-laid domestic plans resulting in epic fails; of the complicated relationships between husbands and wives, and parents and children; of the resulting hilarity of misunderstandings and miscommunications; and of the simple dreams and ambitions common throughout Australian suburbia. Her new novel The End of Cuthbert Close (HQ Fiction 2020) is a welcome breath of fresh air perfectly timed for the current mood of the world. It provides a romantic-comedy brand of escape, a light-hearted examination of the close domestic confines in which we all live, and a funny, poignant and insightful view of the dynamics of those closest to us.

The book is set in the cul-de-sac of Cuthbert Close, with the tagline: ‘You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your neighbours’. And in the opening pages, most of the neighbours in Cuthbert Close are also friends, especially the three main protagonists. Alex is a corporate lawyer trying to be the woman who does – and has – it all. With a busy career, twin five-year-old boys who can be quite a handful, and a devoted husband, Alex is like the duck sailing smoothly along the surface of the pond … but furiously paddling beneath just to keep it all together. Her friend Beth couldn’t be more different – a stay-at-home mum to two older kids, Beth has spent her life caring for her family, but when she suspects her husband might be straying from the matrimonial bed, it seems that her life might fall apart. Their friend Cara, a young widow, is desperately trying to raise her child and manage her work as a food stylist, mourning her husband gone too soon, and yearning to provide safety and stability for her daughter Poppy. The neighbourhood is close, calm and friendly. The kids play in each other’s backyards. The adults have street parties. The women cook together (food is a big part of this book and will make you want to rush straight to your kitchen to cook up a storm).

But this all threatens to come unstuck when the glamorous Charlie Devine and her teenage daughter Talia move in to number 25. Charlie is married to the famous online lifestyle guru The Primal Guy (think male version of Gwyneth P.), who is mysteriously absent from the local scene but whose regular emails regularly ping into everyone’s email boxes. Charlie wears white active gear and always look impeccably made up. But from the moment she disrupts the annual summer party by barging in with a removalist truck, she upsets the applecart and gets on the wrong side of just about everybody. She manages to annoy Beth, Cara and Alex in various ways and her snooty and standoffish behaviour gets under their collective skins.

The End of Cuthbert Close has a bit of everything – an unfortunately dead guinea-pig, an uneaten quiche, a missing ring, store-bought snacks disguised as homemade, peanut-butter mug cakes, worrying child behaviour, anxiety-inducing husband behaviour, questionable parenting behaviour, corporate blindness and greed, corporate sabotage, dancing, IVF, real estate and swimming carnivals. And underneath all of these chaotic events, there is ambition, scheming and suspicion, as well as generosity, new love, long-term companionship and commitment, and unexpected kindnesses.

What Cassie Hamer does so well is to write about real life in a relatable and familiar way. All of the conversations you have had with your girlfriends about juggling work and kids and family obligations are in this book. All the arguments you’ve had with your partner about whose career is more important and who does the lion’s share of the household duties are in in this book. All the secret thoughts you’ve ever had about schooling (dare I say, at the moment, HOME-SCHOOLING?), gripes about neighbours, complaints about your workplace, hidden resentments or your private anxieties about your own life trajectory and where you are going – they are all in this book. It’s like the author has read the minds of all the people around her – particularly the women – and committed them all to the page.

The dialogue is authentic, the scenarios are unbearable funny and will make you wince in recognition, and the themes at the heart of the book – kindness, friendship, parental love, hope and resilience – are poignant and heart-warming.  

Comparing books is a fraught process. Trying to rate a work of great literary fiction against a fast-paced crime story against a light-hearted rom-com against a harrowing memoir against a non-fiction mine of information against a historical account is truly like trying to compare apples with pears with steak with coffee with cake with wine with psyllium husks. All can be great, depending on the mood you’re in and what you feel like reading. What you need to read at a particular time. You couldn’t survive on a diet of only one. It’s the endless combinations that manifest the feast; the joyful variety that sustains us. The End of Cuthbert Close is an enlivening, fun read; like a gooey dark chocolate sauce, a guilty pleasure that leaves you feeling warm, cosy and satisfied. And when the news around us is nothing but bad, this is the perfect feel-good book to uplift your spirits.