My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry Read Online Free PDF Page B

the democratic process is the one Kent and Britt-Marie like the least, you might say.
    And the meetings are obviously terrifically boring. First everyone argues about what they were arguing about in the last meeting, and then they all look at their agendas and argue about when to have the next meeting, and then the meeting is over. But Elsa still goes there today because she needs to know when the arguing starts, so no one notices when she sneaks off.
    Elsa arrives early. Kent hasn’t got there yet, because Kent is always late. Alf hasn’t arrived either, because Alf is always exactly on time. But Maud and Lennart are sitting at the big table and Britt-Marie and Mum are in the pantry discussing the coffee. Samantha is sleeping on the floor. Maud pushes a big tin of dreams towards Elsa. Lennart sits next to her, waiting for the coffee. Meanwhile he sips from a thermos he has brought with him. It’s important to Lennart to have standby coffee available while he’s waiting for the new coffee.
    Britt-Marie is by the kitchen counter in the pantry with her hands clasped together in frustration over her stomach, while she looks nervously at Mum. Mum is making coffee. This is making Britt-Marie nervous because she thinks it would be best if they waited for Kent. Britt-Marie always thinks it would be best to wait for Kent, but Mum is not so big on waiting. She is more about taking control. Britt-Marie smiles well-meaningly at Mum.
    “Everything all right with the coffee, Ulrika?”
    “Yes, thanks,” says Mum curtly.
    “Maybe we should wait for Kent after all?”
    “Oh, I think we can manage to make some coffee without Kent,” Mum answers pleasantly.
    Again, Britt-Marie clasps her hands together over her stomach. Smiles.
    “Well, of course, please yourself, Ulrika. You always do.”
    Mum looks as if she’s counting to some three-digit number and continues measuring the scoops of coffee.
    “It’s only coffee, Britt-Marie.”
    Britt-Marie nods her understanding of the situation and brushes some invisible dust off her skirt. There is always a bit of invisible dust on Britt-Marie’s skirt, which only Britt-Marie can see, and which she absolutely must brush off.
    “Kent always makes very nice coffee. Everyone always thinks Kent makes very nice coffee.”
    Maud sits at the table looking worried. Because Maud doesn’t like conflict. That’s why she bakes so many cookies, because it’s much more difficult to have conflict when there are cookies around.
    “Well, it’s lovely that you and your little Elsa are here today. We all think it’s . . . lovely,” says Britt-Marie.
    There’s a patient “mmm” from Mum. A bit more coffee is measured out. A bit more dust is brushed off.
    “I mean, it must be hard for you to find time for little Elsa, we can appreciate that, what with you being so ambitious about your career.”
    And then Mum spoons the coffee a little as if she’s having fantasies of flinging it in Britt-Marie’s face. But in a controlled way.
    Britt-Marie goes to the window and moves a plant and says, as if thinking out aloud: “And your partner’s so good, isn’t he, staying at home to take care of the household. That’s what you call it, isn’t it? Partner ? It’s very modern, I understand.” And then she smiles again. Well-meaning. Brushes a little more and adds, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. Nothing at all.”
    Alf comes in, in a very bad mood, wearing his creaking leather jacket with a taxi logo on its chest. He has an evening newspaper in his hand. Checks his watch. It’s seven o’clock sharp.
    “Bloody says seven on the note,” he grunts across the room at no one in particular.
    “Kent is a little late,” says Britt-Marie, and smiles and clasps her hands together over her stomach again. “He has an important group meeting with Germany,” she goes on, as if Kent is meeting the entire population of Germany.
    Fifteen minutes later Kent comes storming into the