Ove stayed where he was, his fists clenched at his sides and his chin jutting out as if he were an outraged bull elk.
The white shirts disappeared into Anita and Rune’s house. It took a minute before he recovered himself enough to even turn around.
But then he did so with determined fury and started walking towards Parvaneh’s house.
Parvaneh was standing halfway up the little road.
“Is that useless husband of yours at home?” Ove growled, walking past her without waiting for an answer.
Parvaneh didn’t have time to do more than nod before Ove, in four long strides, reached their front door.
Patrick opened it, standing there on crutches, casts apparently covering half of his body.
“Hi, Ove!” he called out cheerfully, trying to wave with a crutch,
with the immediate effect that he lost his balance and stumbled into the wall.
“That trailer you had when you moved in. Where did you get it?” Ove demanded.
Patrick leaned with his functioning arm against the wall. Almost as if he wanted it to look as if he’d meant to stumble into it.
“What? Oh... that trailer. I borrowed it off a guy at work—” “Call him. You need to borrow it again.”
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