Kevin is a winning swimmer in the world’s gene pool – his Norwegian father passed along broad shoulders and a noble chin, and his Irish mother added bright-blue eyes and a dazzling smile. Not surprisingly, his good looks are only exceeded by his high self-esteem. I would not be able to tolerate him in the same building with me except that his exceptional energy and cockiness allow him to manage the dismal slog that is Property Crimes, year in and year out, without throwing himself in front of a bus. His smug self-regard now enabled him to go right on describing his days off, despite my obvious lack of interest. ‘Somebody told me the slab crappies were really biting on Little Boy Lake, up by Longville. So I took a personal day Friday and put the arm on my cousin Henry. Henry’s got a cabin up there, you know – well, you don’t know, but trust me, it’s a nice snug little place.’ I couldn’t seem to turn him off, but I found his story so far from riveting that my brain had started to run through the powers of two . . .
What do You think about The Ten-Mile Trials (2009)?
