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.Their daughter Vera.It was the bunch of keys that damaged her.But it was what happened to her grandmother that mutilated her.Vera had loved her grandmother, and her grandmother had loved Vera, and for every blow of the keys that landed on Vera’s face, her grandmother had shrunk.Helpless.And afraid, of her own son.Until she gave up.Vera was thirteen when it happened.She went to visit her grandmother’s farm in Uppland with her parents.The booze they had with them led to the usual results, and a few hours later her grandmother went out.She just couldn’t face watching and hearing the misery of it all.She knew what would come: the bunch of keys.When it did come, Vera managed to get out of the way, this time, and ran to fetch grandmother.She found her in the barn.Hanging from a thick rope attached to a beam.Dead.That was a shock in itself, but it didn’t stop there.When she tried to get the attention of her extremely intoxicated parents, they were beyond communication.So she had to do it herself.Take her grandmother down from the beam and lay her on the ground.And cry.For hours, she had sat beside her grandmother’s body until her tear ducts had dried up.That mutilated her.And that is what made it so hard to get her newly found black nail polish as even as she wanted.It got a bit messy.Partly because Vera’s eyes were veiled in tears by the memory of her grandmother, but partly because she was shaking.That was when she thought about Jelle.She nearly always did that when it became too painful to keep watch.Thought about him, his eyes, there was something about his eyes that had caught her attention, from the first time they had come across each other, up at the magazine office.He didn’t look, he saw.That’s what Vera thought, as if he saw her, saw beyond what was her shabby outside, right into who she was in another world.Or could have been.If she hadn’t lacked the tools and ended up keeping the wrong company, and started down the path to Calvary carved between various institutions and authorities.It was as if he saw the other Vera.The strong, original one.The one who could fulfill the role of citizen in any modern welfare state she chose.If there still had been one.But there wasn’t one, Vera thought, they have pared it down to the ground.The ‘people’s home’, the welfare state that had once been created in Sweden was no more.But we did have the postal code lottery!And then she smiled a little, and saw that the nail of her little finger looked really nicely painted.6The man who lay in the bed had had a bit of work done, discreetly, conjuring away a couple of bags under his eyes.His greying hair was short and thick, it was trimmed every fifth day, the rest of his body getting its due in his private gym on the floor below.He kept his age at arm’s length.From the double bed in his bedroom he could see the Cedergren tower, a folly just a couple of plots away.Stocksund’s most famous landmark.It had been intended to be a showpiece, and had been started by forest-owner Albert Gotthard Nestor Cedergren.The man in the bed lived himself on Granhällsvägen, down by the water, in a much smaller building.Only about 420 square metres, with a sea view.But that would have to do.He did, after all, have his little treasure on Nordkoster too.Now he was lying on his back and being massaged by the bed, a gentle, exclusive massage of his whole body.Even the insides of his thighs got the treatment.A favour that was worth the extra twenty thousand it had cost.He delighted in the moment.Today, he was going to meet the King.Well ‘meet’ was perhaps a clumsy way of putting it.He was going to be present at a ceremony at the Chamber of Commerce at which the realm’s monarch would be the main figure.He himself would be the number two main figure.In fact, the entire ceremony was planned in his honour.He was going to be awarded a medal for running Sweden’s most successful company abroad in the previous year, or whatever the citation was.As the founder and managing director of Magnuson World Mining AB.MWM.It was he who was Bertil Magnuson.‘Bertil! What about this?’Linn Magnuson swept into the room in one of her creations.It was the cerise one again, the one she had worn the other evening.It was very beautiful.‘That’s pretty.’‘Do you think so? It isn’t too… you know…’‘Provocative?’‘No, but simple? You know who’ll be there.’Bertil did know.More or less.The cream of Stockholm’s business community, a few titled bigwigs, a few well-chosen politicians, not at cabinet level but almost.Or perhaps? Perhaps Minister of Finance Borg would nip in for a few minutes, if he was lucky.That always provided a bit of extra glory.Erik would not be able to come, unfortunately.His latest tweet: ‘Brussels.Meeting with the top brass in the Commission.Hope to fit in a barber first.’Erik was always fussy about his appearance.‘What about this then?’ Linn asked.Bertil sat up in bed.Not as a reaction to his wife’s latest presentation, an expensive piece she had found at the Weird & Wow boutique on Sibyllegatan, but because he felt he had to.He had to empty his bladder.This had been a bit of a problem of late.He had to visit the toilet more frequently than a man in his position had time to do.Only a week ago, he had met a professor of geology who had almost frightened him to death [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Their daughter Vera.It was the bunch of keys that damaged her.But it was what happened to her grandmother that mutilated her.Vera had loved her grandmother, and her grandmother had loved Vera, and for every blow of the keys that landed on Vera’s face, her grandmother had shrunk.Helpless.And afraid, of her own son.Until she gave up.Vera was thirteen when it happened.She went to visit her grandmother’s farm in Uppland with her parents.The booze they had with them led to the usual results, and a few hours later her grandmother went out.She just couldn’t face watching and hearing the misery of it all.She knew what would come: the bunch of keys.When it did come, Vera managed to get out of the way, this time, and ran to fetch grandmother.She found her in the barn.Hanging from a thick rope attached to a beam.Dead.That was a shock in itself, but it didn’t stop there.When she tried to get the attention of her extremely intoxicated parents, they were beyond communication.So she had to do it herself.Take her grandmother down from the beam and lay her on the ground.And cry.For hours, she had sat beside her grandmother’s body until her tear ducts had dried up.That mutilated her.And that is what made it so hard to get her newly found black nail polish as even as she wanted.It got a bit messy.Partly because Vera’s eyes were veiled in tears by the memory of her grandmother, but partly because she was shaking.That was when she thought about Jelle.She nearly always did that when it became too painful to keep watch.Thought about him, his eyes, there was something about his eyes that had caught her attention, from the first time they had come across each other, up at the magazine office.He didn’t look, he saw.That’s what Vera thought, as if he saw her, saw beyond what was her shabby outside, right into who she was in another world.Or could have been.If she hadn’t lacked the tools and ended up keeping the wrong company, and started down the path to Calvary carved between various institutions and authorities.It was as if he saw the other Vera.The strong, original one.The one who could fulfill the role of citizen in any modern welfare state she chose.If there still had been one.But there wasn’t one, Vera thought, they have pared it down to the ground.The ‘people’s home’, the welfare state that had once been created in Sweden was no more.But we did have the postal code lottery!And then she smiled a little, and saw that the nail of her little finger looked really nicely painted.6The man who lay in the bed had had a bit of work done, discreetly, conjuring away a couple of bags under his eyes.His greying hair was short and thick, it was trimmed every fifth day, the rest of his body getting its due in his private gym on the floor below.He kept his age at arm’s length.From the double bed in his bedroom he could see the Cedergren tower, a folly just a couple of plots away.Stocksund’s most famous landmark.It had been intended to be a showpiece, and had been started by forest-owner Albert Gotthard Nestor Cedergren.The man in the bed lived himself on Granhällsvägen, down by the water, in a much smaller building.Only about 420 square metres, with a sea view.But that would have to do.He did, after all, have his little treasure on Nordkoster too.Now he was lying on his back and being massaged by the bed, a gentle, exclusive massage of his whole body.Even the insides of his thighs got the treatment.A favour that was worth the extra twenty thousand it had cost.He delighted in the moment.Today, he was going to meet the King.Well ‘meet’ was perhaps a clumsy way of putting it.He was going to be present at a ceremony at the Chamber of Commerce at which the realm’s monarch would be the main figure.He himself would be the number two main figure.In fact, the entire ceremony was planned in his honour.He was going to be awarded a medal for running Sweden’s most successful company abroad in the previous year, or whatever the citation was.As the founder and managing director of Magnuson World Mining AB.MWM.It was he who was Bertil Magnuson.‘Bertil! What about this?’Linn Magnuson swept into the room in one of her creations.It was the cerise one again, the one she had worn the other evening.It was very beautiful.‘That’s pretty.’‘Do you think so? It isn’t too… you know…’‘Provocative?’‘No, but simple? You know who’ll be there.’Bertil did know.More or less.The cream of Stockholm’s business community, a few titled bigwigs, a few well-chosen politicians, not at cabinet level but almost.Or perhaps? Perhaps Minister of Finance Borg would nip in for a few minutes, if he was lucky.That always provided a bit of extra glory.Erik would not be able to come, unfortunately.His latest tweet: ‘Brussels.Meeting with the top brass in the Commission.Hope to fit in a barber first.’Erik was always fussy about his appearance.‘What about this then?’ Linn asked.Bertil sat up in bed.Not as a reaction to his wife’s latest presentation, an expensive piece she had found at the Weird & Wow boutique on Sibyllegatan, but because he felt he had to.He had to empty his bladder.This had been a bit of a problem of late.He had to visit the toilet more frequently than a man in his position had time to do.Only a week ago, he had met a professor of geology who had almost frightened him to death [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]