slightly shamefully, as if they’re made of cloth, fluttering in the breeze.
“I’ll move it and have another go,” he finally says and smiles disarmingly at Ove again.
Ove does not reciprocate. “Motor vehicles are not allowed in the area. There’s a sign.”
The Lanky One steps back and nods eagerly. Jogs back and once again contorts his body into the under-dimensioned Japanese car.
“Christ,” Ove and the pregnant woman mutter wearily in unison. Which actually makes Ove dislike her slightly less.
The Lanky One pulls forward a few yards; Ove can see very clearly that he does not straighten up the trailer properly.
Then he starts backing up again. Right into Ove’s mailbox, buckling the green sheet metal.
Ove storms forward and throws the car door open. The Lanky One starts flapping his arms again.
“My fault, my fault! Sorry about that, didn’t see the mailbox in the rearview mirror, you know.”
“It’s difficult, this trailer thing, just can’t figure out which way to turn the wheel...”
Ove thumps his fist on the roof of the car so hard that the Lanky One jumps and bangs his head on the doorframe.
“Out of the car!” “What?” “Get out of the car, I said!”
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