At quarter past three he went all the way back to the tailor’s,
had his shirt and trousers pressed while he sat waiting in his underwear in the staff restroom,
then walked back to the station and took the train with her for an hour and a half back to her station.
And then traveled for another half hour to his own station. He repeated the whole thing the day after. And the day after that.
On the following day the man from the ticket desk at the train station intervened and made it clear to Ove
that he couldn’t sleep here like some loafer, surely he could understand that?
Ove saw the point he was making, but explained that there was a woman at stake here.
When he heard this, the man from the ticket desk gave him a little nod and from then on let him sleep in the left-luggage room.
Even men at train station ticket desks have been in love. Ove did the same thing every day for three months.
In the end she grew tired of his never inviting her out for dinner. So she invited herself instead.
“I’ll be waiting here tomorrow evening at eight o’clock. I want you to be wearing a suit and I’d like you to invite me out for dinner,”
she said succinctly as she stepped off the train one Friday evening. And so it was.
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