Suddenly, out the window, Ove noticed a man in a white shirt in a Škoda, driving past his house.
“Hello?” the journalist woman called just before Ove flew out the front door.
“Oh, dear, dear,” Parvaneh mumbled anxiously when she came out of the bathroom
and caught sight of him careering along between the houses.
The man in the white shirt got out of the Škoda on the driver’s side outside Rune and Anita’s house.
“It’s enough now! You hear? You’re NOT driving your car inside the residential area!
Not another bloody YARD! You got it?” shouted Ove in the distance, long before he’d even reached him.
The little man in the white shirt, in a most superior manner, adjusted the cigarette packet in his breast pocket while calmly meeting Ove’s gaze.
“I have permission.” “Like hell you do!” The man in the white shirt shrugged.
As if to chase away an irritating insect more than anything. “And what exactly are you going to do about it, Ove?”
The question actually caught Ove off-balance. Again.
He stopped, his hands trembling with anger, at least a dozen pieces of invective at his disposal.
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