Then he looks out the window again and realizes that dusk has fallen. He shakes his head in resignation.
You can’t start drilling after dark, everyone knows that.
He’d have to turn on all the lights and no one could say when they’d be turned off again.
And he’s not giving the electricity company the pleasure, his meter notching up another couple of thousand kronor.
They can forget about that. Ove packs up his useful-stuff box and takes it to the big upstairs hall.
Fetches the key to the attic from its place behind the radiator in the little hall.
Goes back and reaches up and opens the trapdoor to the attic. Folds down the ladder.
Climbs up into the attic and puts the useful-stuff box in its place
behind the kitchen chairs that his wife made him put up here because they creaked too much.
They didn’t creak at all. Ove knows very well it was just an excuse, because his wife wanted to get some new ones.
As if that was all life was about. Buying kitchen chairs and eating in restaurants and carrying on.
He goes down the stairs again. Puts back the attic key in its place behind the radiator in the little hall.
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