And that, she said, had been more than enough for her. And then she asked him what he really wanted to do with his life,
if he could choose anything he wanted. And he answered, without even thinking about it, that he wanted to build houses.
Construct them. Draw the plans. Calculate the best way to make them stand where they stood.
And then she didn’t start laughing as he thought she would. She got angry. “But why don’t you do it, then?” she demanded.
Ove did not have a particularly good answer to that one.
On the following Monday she came to his house with brochures for a correspondence course leading to an engineering qualification.
The old landlady was quite overwhelmed when she looked at the beautiful young woman walking up the stairs with self-confident steps.
Later she tapped Ove’s back and whispered that those flowers were probably a very good investment. Ove couldn’t help but agree.
When he came up to his room she was sitting on his bed. Ove stood sulkily in the doorway, with his hands in his pockets.
She looked at him and laughed. “Are we an item now?” she asked.
“Well, yes,” he replied hesitantly, “I suppose it could be that way.” And then it was that way.
She handed him the brochures. It was a two-year course,
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