The Room Read Online Free PDF

you startled me,” she said.
    “Did I?” I said. “I didn’t mean to.”
    She gathered her things and came over to the counter.
    “Early,” she said, meaning me.
    “Yes,” I said, thinking that she seemed a little odd. She was being snappy in a way that I didn’t appreciate at all.
    I wondered whether I should say anything about the events in the room the previous day, but decided that it would be best to maintain a certain distance at first, and simply ride the wave of the impressions I had been given yesterday. I tried to remember what we had said to each other. What kind of agreement we had reached, so to speak. Eventually I said: “You too.”
    We stood there in silence for a while. She was arranging some papers on her side of the counter. Opening a large diary. Pulling a page off the calendar. People started to stream in. Margareta greeted almost all of them in an equally warm and friendly way, which put me in an even worse mood seeing as she really ought to realize that she was devaluing the impact of her smile if she used it on everyone. Didn’t she know that she should hold back a bit?
    I tried to look as though I had business down there. I started to leaf through a trade magazine that was on the counter, and after a while I went over to the coffee machine and pressed the button to get a cup. I stood there for a long while waiting for the coffee to start trickling down into the cup. I pressed the button a few extra times, and had managed to get fairly annoyed by the time I realized that I hadn’t put any money in.
    I couldn’t help noting how much better the organization worked down here, where you had to pay for coffee, compared to the lax coffee-drinking that pertained up in my department where anyone, at any time, could scuttle off and get coffee without any restrictions at all.
    When I was putting the coins in I realized that I was a couple of kronor short. I went back to Margareta and asked if she could lend me two one-krona coins. She was standing talking to a woman in a suit and didn’t answer me at first, so I asked again. Slightly louder. Then she turned toward me with irritation and said that she could. She went into the little cloakroom and got her handbag, took out her purse, and passed me the coins. I thought it impractical to keep her handbag containing her purse so far from the counter, but said nothing. Partly because I didn’t think her behavior deserved to be rewarded with my advice, and partly because I didn’t want to appear too superior to her at such an early stage of our relationship. Instead, I merely smiled and decided to counter her irritation with a forgiving, worldly attitude.
    “After all, two kronor isn’t the end of the world,” I said, glancing toward the woman in the suit, but there was no conspiratorial smile.
    They resumed their conversation and I went back to the coffee machine, put my money in, got my coffee, then went and stood beside the plastic Christmas tree again. By now most people had arrived and the reception area resumed its usual deserted appearance. I was left alone again with Margareta on the other side of the counter.
    “Well,” I said after a while, sipping the hot coffee and wondering what I ought to say.
    She looked up at me from her papers, but I saw none of the respect you might expect from a receptionist of her level. It made me slightly annoyed. Maybe she was one of those people who thought it was acceptable to set aside all politeness and manners once you’ve been introduced and become acquainted.
    “Yes?” Margareta said.
    I decided to sit her out. Let her catch up and realize the situation she was in. Any moment now everything ought to click into place, I thought, but she just went on looking at me with that indirectly arrogant expression, rather like a mother looking at her teenage son.
    When she didn’t say anything, I felt obliged to speak: “Well, I thought it was nice, anyway.”
    She took a paper clip and fastened several