they had to go back to the head office to pick up new sets of work clothes.
As Ove was walking down the corridor he met Tom. It was the first time they had seen each other since Ove got blamed for the theft from the carriage.
A more sensible man than Tom would probably have avoided eye contact. Or tried to pretend that the incident had never happened.
But Tom was not a more sensible sort of man. “Well, if it isn’t the little thief!” he exclaimed with a combative smile.
Ove didn’t answer. Tried to get past but got a hard elbow from one of the younger colleagues Tom surrounded himself with.
Ove looked up. The younger colleague was smiling disdainfully at him. “Hold on to your wallets, the thief’s here!”
Tom called out so loudly that his voice echoed through the corridors. With one hand, Ove took a firmer grip on the pile of clothes in his arm.
But he clenched his fist in his pocket. Went into an empty changing room.
Took off his dirty old work clothes, unclipped his father’s dented wristwatch and put it on the bench.
When he turned around to go into the shower, Tom was standing in the doorway.
“We heard about the fire,” he said. Ove could see that Tom was hoping he’d answer.
“That father of yours would have been proud of you! Not even he was useless enough to burn down his own bloody house!”
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