backAt Home with the Templetons

  • At Home with the Templetons
    Australian edition
  • UK edition
  • US edition

At Home with the Templetons

Shortlisted for General Fiction Book of the Year in the 2011 Australian Book Industry Awards.
Shortlisted for the Eason Popular Fiction Award in the 2010 Irish Book Awards.

Other people’s families aren’t as perfect as they seem…

When the Templeton family from England takes up residence in a stately home in country Australia, they set the locals talking – and with good reason. From the outside, the seven Templetons seem so unusual, peculiar even.

No one is more intrigued by the family than their neighbours, single mother Nina Donovan and her son Tom. Before long, the two families’ lives become entwined in unexpected ways, to the delight of Gracie, the youngest of the Templeton daughters.

In the years that follow, the relationships between the Templetons and the two Donovans twist and turn in unpredictable and life-changing directions, until a tragedy tears them all apart. What will it take to bring them together again?

A wonderfully entertaining and touching story about the perils and pleasures of love, friendship and family.

At Home with the Templetons

‘At Home with the Templetons is an exquisite novel, which combines well crafted characters with a captivating story. Focusing on love, friendship and family, McInerney’s latest offering is guaranteed to enthral her legions of adoring fans.’

Ulster Tatler

‘A glorious tale of two families and their extraordinary effect on each other over the years… Top marks.’

Bookseller magazine

‘Everything is not as it seems in [Monica] McInerney’s entertaining exploration of family relationships amid romance and turmoil…. McInerney’s greatest feat is to create a large cast of strong characters; they’re individually tough and nicely considered, which lends a pleasing authenticity to the travails of an uncommon family.’

Publishers Weekly USA

‘I am very happy to report that the wait has been worth it. At Home with the Templetons continues to build on familiar McInerney themes and is delivered in her usual warm, humorous and moving style… McInerney’s great skill lies in creating well-drawn and realistically flawed characters. Her books are well-written, compelling narratives about the nuances of family life – with all the heartaches and the rewards. ****’

Bookseller & Publisher

‘If you’re looking for a good family saga to get stuck into, then Monica McInerney’s books are just for you. As one of seven children, the Australian born author is no stranger to the trials and tribulations of family life. In this, her eighth novel, she introduces the eccentric Templetons, an English family who raise eyebrows in a small Australian town. A gossipy read for the long dark evenings ahead.’

Image magazine

‘The English Templetons arrive to live at Templeton Hall in country Australia, striking the locals as strange, possibly even mad. But Nina, single mother of Tom, finds them fascinating and the two families are linked over the years until something dreadful drives them apart. The author is known for creating unforgettable characters (you’ll love Gracie) and exhilarating plots with subtle twists, and this is no different. A book to enthral you.’

Woman’s Day

‘When a large English family relocates to country Australia, they supply local gossips with much longed-for new material. Humorous mayhem ensues, along with moving moments of love and tragedy.’

NW magazine

‘Lives entwine when an English family arrives in Australia and moves in next door to Nina Donovan and her son, Tom. The Templetons are a little strange but relationships blossom until all are rocked by tragedy. Love, family and friendship are handled with heart and humour. In a word: touching.’

Gold Coast Bulletin

‘So perfect is this book for beach-holiday reading that copies are fated to return home with grains of sand lodged in the pages. Classic McInerney, the plot features drama and romance as well as a lovely depiction of a nutty family – it’s light but not lightweight, escapist but not thoughtless. The seven Templetons, including idiosyncratic heroine Gracie, come from England to country Victoria to take possession of a stately home, unsettling the locals. Their closest neighbours are Nina Donovan and her son Tom, and despite Nina’s reluctance to get involved, the lives of the two very different families become enmeshed. The plot keeps up an involving pace, while McInerney’s perceptive writing about change and betrayal in friendships and families provides the substance.’

Australian Independent Booksellers’ Summer Reading Guide

‘A warm family story from one of Australia’s favourite authors.’

Illawarra Mercury

‘At Home with the Templetons is a sprawling, languid, family saga full of twists and turns, intrigues and secret love affairs. This could well be McInerney’s best yet.’

Manly Daily

‘Who wouldn’t be fascinated by the Templetons? … McInerney’s latest novel is an exploration of the relationships in the Donovan and Templeton families and the ways their families intersect over the years. For each character, truth becomes a central theme. Who controls the truth and who knows it at any given time? What is the truth of the Templetons? McInerney is not a stranger to writing about strong families (Those Faraday Girls; Alphabet Sisters), and that experience shines through here. Highly recommended for fans of complex characters and compelling prose.’

Library Journal

‘If a book’s success can be determined by the believability of its secondary characters, Aussie author Monica McInerney’s novel, peopled with miscreants and meddlers, stands far above the rest. Everyone loves a tale of star-crossed lovers, and few could resist the charge of the romance that blooms between upper-crust Gracie Templeton and plain-folks Tom in this decade-spanning narrative filled with enough heartbreak and redemption to keep even the most fickle readers swooning by story’s end.’

Star Tribune

At Home with the Templetons


October, 2009

From the moment Gracie Templeton knew she was going back to the Hall, she started to see him again.

He walked past her in the Tube station. She saw him study­ing at a table in the local library, his head bowed, engrossed in a book. Every second customer in the restaurant where she worked part-time sounded like him. An actor on TV had his shy smile. Everywhere she went, there was a man who reminded her of him, the same height, six foot three. The same dark curls. The easy, lanky walk. The same clothes – faded jeans, a dark reefer jacket. For eight years she’d been trying to put him out of her mind, to forget him, to rebuild her life. Now it was as if no time had passed at all.

As she watched the departure date grow closer, packed her suitcase, tidied her flat, she could think only of him. Three days before her flight, she gave in. Even as she typed his name into an Internet search engine, she knew it was a mistake. When his name appeared, she clicked on the link and began to read, then turned quickly away, shutting the laptop, breaking the connec­tion. Quickly but not quickly enough. A line from the entry had leapt out at her: A promising career cut short ­

If she’d dared to read on, would she have seen her name there? A promising career cut short by Gracie Templeton.

The phrase haunted her throughout the twenty-two-hour flight. Until, there she was, stepping out into Melbourne airport for the first time in sixteen years.

The man behind the car-hire desk was the perfect mixture of efficiency and good humour. ‘That’s all great, Gracie Templeton aged twenty-seven of London, thank you.’ He handed her Eng­lish driver’s licence back across the desk. ‘So, is this your first time here?’

Gracie hesitated, then shook her head. ‘I used to live here, with my family. For three years.’

‘But you all left again? Summer got too hot?’

‘Something like that,’ she said.

Minutes later she was in the small hire car, breathing in the too-sweet air-freshener fumes, unfolding the map and plotting her route. It was unsettling to see the place names again. Turning up the radio loudly to drown out her thoughts, she focused her attention on the road ahead.

Just over an hour later, something about the landscape made her slow down. A sign came into view: Castlemaine 25 km. She wasn’t far away now. She hadn’t been sure she would find her way so easily. There were no longer any roadside signs pointing to the Hall, after all. But it felt so familiar. The broad paddocks, gentle tree-covered hills, the big sky, the space. So much light and space. She stopped briefly to double-check her map and the smell when she opened the car door almost overwhelmed her: warm soil, gum leaves, the scents of her childhood.

Five kilometres later, she was at the turn-off. The huge gum tree at the junction of the highway and the dirt driveway had always been their landmark. She indicated left and drove slowly, jolting over potholes and loose stones. As she tried to negotiate her way around the worst of them, she saw broken tree branches, crooked posts, gaps in the fencing. Her father would never have let the approach road look this uncared for. ‘First impressions are everything, my darlings,’ she could almost hear him saying.

The closer she came, the more neglect she saw: uneven patches of grass where there had once been smooth green lawn, bare brown earth where she’d once picked flowers, rows of fruit trees now left to grow wild, their branches heavy with unpicked, rotting fruit.

One final bend of the driveway and there it was in front of her. Templeton Hall.

She slowly brought the car to a halt, feeling as though her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest. She’d expected the building to look smaller, but it seemed bigger. Two storeys high, large shuttered windows, an imposing front door reached by a flight of wide steps made from the same golden sandstone as the house itself. It needed painting, several roof tiles were broken and one of the window shutters was missing a slat, but it was still standing, almost glowing in the bright sunshine, as beautiful as she remembered.

As she walked towards it, the sound of the gravel crunching beneath her shoes mingled with unfamiliar bird calls from the trees all around. She automatically reached for her talisman, the antique silver whistle she always carried in her bag, holding it tight in her hand. He’d given it to her when she was just a child. Back then it had been a good luck charm. Now it was her only reminder of him.

She climbed the first step, the second, the third, wishing, too late, that she hadn’t offered to arrive early, hadn’t volunteered to be the first to step back inside the Hall again.

The front door opened before she had a chance to put the key in the lock.

In the seconds before her eyes adjusted completely from the bright sunlight, she registered only that a man was standing there. A tall man with dark, curly hair, holding something in his right hand. As she saw his face, she felt a rushing sensation from her head to her feet. She heard herself say his name as if from a long distance away.

‘Tom?’ She tried again. ‘Tom?’

‘Hello, Gracie.’

He took a step forward into the light. ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said.



Australian edition