Chapter 4
Regatta
MICK O’ROURKE WOKE ME by battering on the door. I let him in; he was grumbling. My watch showed that it was almost nine o’clock. I said:
“What’s wrong with you?”
He told me that Eric Vennell had taken a long time getting asleep, and that after he’d got to sleep, he’d snored continuously. I went into the suite’s shower, had one, and came out again. Mick was still grumbling. I shaved, and only cut myself once.
“What sort of a day is it?” I asked him.
Mick grunted: “Why don’t you look out of the window? It’s hot and clear. It’s going to be hotter.”
I nodded. “But not clearer,” I told him. “The varsity race is always rowed in a lightning storm, a rough river, or in the darkness.”
Mick said: “Why?”
I put powder on my face. “The officials don’t believe in pampering the
