A minute later, Ove turns up triumphantly in the doorway, dragging a gigantic piece of corrugated iron, as big as a living room rug.
Anita honestly has no idea how such a large piece of metal has even fitted in there without her knowing about it.
“Told you,” Ove says with a nod, giving her back the key.
“Yes... yes, you did, didn’t you,” Anita feels obliged to admit. Ove turns to the window. Rune looks back.
And just as Anita turns around to go back into the house, Rune grins again, and lifts his hand in a brief wave.
As if right there, just for a second, he knew exactly who Ove was and what he was doing there. Anita stops hesitantly. Turns around.
“They’ve been here from Social Services again, they want to take Rune away from me,” she says without looking up.
Her voice cracks like dry newspaper when she speaks her husband’s name. Ove fingers the corrugated iron.
“They say I’m not capable of taking care of him. With his illness and everything. They say he has to go into a home,” she says.
Ove continues fingering the corrugated iron. Ove nods and looks at the remains of a cigarette butt, frozen into the crack between two paving stones.
Out of the corner of his eye he notices how Anita is sort of leaning slightly to one side.
Sonja explained about a year ago that it was the hip replacement operation, he remembers.
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