Alarm bells initially rang for me on the opening page of this debut novel. A woman is having a difficult birth and three other women are witness to the scene: “Three lonely women watch this birthing in bright windows of electric light.” It then becomes apparent that the three women are watching a soap opera and the “bright windows of electric light” are tellies. But why not just say tellies? Clarity trumps unnecessarily florid descriptions any day of the week. But my fears of an overripe prose style were swiftly allayed as ‘It Comes from the River’ is an utterly absorbing tale of three women – the “three lonely women” – each of who feels trapped in their own different way. After inadvertently setting fire to her kitchen Nancy is moved, by her son, into a care home that she doesn’t want to be at. Alex dotes on her young daughter, but family life is made difficult by her husband whose behaviour is becoming increasingly problematic. Lauren, meanwhile, is a single mother with two young boys, and the bills are piling up. Many of the struggles the women face can be ascribed to living in a patriarchal society: men in ‘It Comes from the River’ are abusive, controlling and predatory. (Lauren’s tale is particularly bitter as she has to try and negotiate the effects of austerity; austerity policies hitting women far more than men.) The narrative flips effectively between the three women, and gradually their stories are woven together in unexpected ways that culminate in a bravura climax, which offers hope by dint of their sheer indefatigability. RM

Published by Bloomsbury Circus