Tom called out to him as he was stepping into the shower. Ove heard his younger colleagues all laughing together.
He closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against the wall, and let the hot water flow over him.
Stood there for more than twenty minutes. The longest shower he’d ever had. When he came out, his father’s watch was gone.
Ove rooted among the clothes on the bench, searched the floor, fine-combed all the lockers.
A time comes in every man’s life when he decides what sort of man he is going to be.
Whether he is the kind who lets other people tread on him, or not.
Maybe it was because Tom had put the blame on him for the theft in the carriage. Maybe it was the fire. Maybe it was the bogus insurance agent.
Or the white shirts. Or maybe it was just enough now. There and then, it was as if someone had removed a fuse in Ove’s mind.
Everything in his eyes grew a shade darker. He walked out of the changing room, still naked and with water dripping from his flexing muscles.
Walked to the end of the corridor to the foremen’s changing room, kicked the door open, and cleared a way through the astonished press of men inside.
Tom was standing in front of a mirror at the far end, trimming his bushy beard.
Ove gripped him by the shoulder and roared so loudly that the sheet-metal-covered walls echoed.
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