Hayes’s last book, Woody Guthrie and the Dust Bowl Ballads, was an evocative account of a great wordsmith. His affecting new work is practically mute: the only speech bubbles contain the “preep”, “kreeyah” and “caaaawk” of birds. The animals frequent a disused London reservoir, setting its water and air a-tremor with a joyous cacophony. They form the dreamlike counterpoint to a boy and a girl whose separate voyages through childhood are derailed by bereavement. Hayes gives us pre-school routines, classroom tests, swimming lessons, busy streets and hospital wards, and the lack of words makes the nuances of his artwork – a sinuous arm reaching from mother to child, a raised eyebrow packed with both familiarity and fear – doubly significant.
The reservoir comes to symbolise escape and possibility for both children, and as the story moves to its conclusion the appealing panels of school life broaden to show surreal panoramas of nature, in all its joy, mystery and marshy menace. Achingly sad at times and thoroughly joyful at others, this beautiful and distinctive book is a reminder that hope can nest in unexpected surroundings.
• Cormorance is published by Jonathan Cape. To order a copy for £15.57 (RRP £18.99) go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99.
