just outside his shed as he started heading off towards the parking area.
But because he had more important things on his mind he did not.
Chastened by recent experiences, he did not take the Saab, but walked instead to the station.
Because this time neither Pregnant Foreign Woman, Blond Weed, Rune’s wife, nor low-quality rope
would be given any opportunity of ruining Ove’s morning.
He’d bled these people’s radiators, loaned them his things, given them lifts to the hospital. But now he was finally on his way.
He checked the train timetable once more. He hated being late. It ruined the planning. Made everything out of step.
His wife had been utterly useless at it, keeping to plans. But it was always like that with women.
They couldn’t stick to a plan even if you glued them to it, Ove had learned.
When he was driving somewhere he drew up schedules and plans and decided where they’d fill up and when they’d stop for coffee,
all in the interest of making the trip as time-efficient as possible.
He studied maps and estimated exactly how long each leg of the journey would take and how they should avoid rush-hour traffic
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