A novel revolving around Danny Williams, a disenchanted lawyer originally from Northern Ireland working in the City. A childhood friend, Geordie, turns up unexpectedly at his door one evening. The novel is set in both London and NI, and the characters are (I felt) spot on. I have read another review criticizing the figure of Ian, a shady loyalist. However, I felt that Ian was just right - nearly fundamentalist in some aspects, with a touch of self aggrandizement, and the overdeveloped gym torso of the thug/bully, the total more laughable than sinister. I also loved Danny's colleague in the office, Albert, who spends much of his time having his workdesk/computer/keyboard ergonomically tweaked, to pass the time and feed a neurosis. The character of Ellen I felt was the least interesting of all his characters. She is a colleague, beautiful, black and self-possessed. Given the similarities between Laird and his wife (the beautiful, black and no doubt self-possessed) Zadie Smith, much comment has been made about the semi-autobiographical nature of the work. Superficial similarities indeed - please don't expect to get deep character insights into the persona of Laird or Smith from this novel. It is more of a good yarn, well written and (for me) laugh-out-loud funny. (I rarely laugh out loud at novels, particularly ones described as laugh-out-loud funny) It's not the meaning of life, it's not the poetic beauty of an Ondaajte, but for all that, I'd read it again and recommend it to anyone wanting an entertaining diversion.