Audiobook Sample English of Britt--Marie Was Here by Frederik Backman
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
it's a monday in january. She's sitting at a desk in the unemployment office, admittedly, there's no cutlery in sight, but it's on her mind because it sums up everything that's gone wrong recently. Cutlery should be arranged as it always has been, because life should go on unchanged. Normal life is presentable in normal life. You clean up the kitchen and keep your balcony tidy and take care of your Children. It's hard, work harder than one might think in normal life. You certainly don't find yourself sitting in the unemployment office. The girl who works here has staggeringly short hair Britt Marie thinks like a man's not that there's anything wrong with that. Of course it's modern. No doubt. The girl points to a piece of paper and smiles evidently in a hurry. Just fill in your name. Social Security number and address here, please Britt Marie has to be registered as if she were a criminal, as if she has come to steal a job rather than find one. Milk and sugar. The girl asks, pouring some coffee into a plastic mug, Britt Marie doesn't judge anyone far from it, but who would behave like that? A plastic mug, are we at war? She'd like to say just that to the girl. But because Kent is always urging Britt Marie to be more socially aware, she just smiles as diplomatically as she can and waits to be offered a coaster Kent is bright Marie's husband, he's an entrepreneur, incredibly, incredibly successful, has business dealings with Germany and is extremely, extremely socially aware. The girl offers her to tiny disposable cartons of the sort of milk that doesn't have to be kept in the fridge. Then she holds out a plastic mug with plastic teaspoons protruding from it, Britt Marie could not have looked more startled if she'd been offered roadkill. She shakes her head and brushes her hand over the table as if it was covered in invisible crumbs. There are papers everywhere in any old order. The girl clearly doesn't have time to tidy them up, Britt Marie realizes she's probably far too busy with her career. Okay? Says the girl, pleasantly, turning back to the form. Just write your address here, Britt Marie fixes her gaze on her lap. She misses being at home with her cutlery drawer. She mrs Kent because Kent is the one who fills in all the forms when the girl looks like she's about to open her mouth again, Britt Marie interrupts her. You forgot to give me a coaster, says Britt Marie, smiling with all the social awareness she can muster. I don't want to make a marks on your table. Could I trouble you to give me something to put my coffee cup on? She uses that distinctive tone, which Britt Marie relies on whenever she has to summon all her inner goodness to refer to it as a cup, even though it is a plastic mug. Oh, don't worry, just put it anywhere as if life was as simple as that as if using a coaster or organizing the cutlery drawer in the right order. Didn't matter. The girl who clearly doesn't appreciate the value of coasters or proper cups or even mirrors, judging by her hairstyle, taps her pen against the paper by the address box, but surely we can't just put our cups on the table. That leaves marks on the table. Surely you see that the girl glances at the service of the desk which looks as if toddlers have been trying to eat potatoes off it with pitchforks in the dark. It really doesn't matter. It's so old and scratched up already. She says with a smile, Britt Marie is screaming inside. I don't suppose you've considered that it's because you don't use coasters. She mutters, not at all. In a passive aggressive way, which is how Kent's Children once described her when they thought she wasn't listening, Britt Marie is not actually passive aggressive. She's considerate after she heard ken's Children saying she was passive aggressive. She was extra considerate for several weeks. The unemployment office girl looks a little strained. Okay, what did you say your name was brit? Right Britt Marie only. My sister calls me Britt. Okay, Britt Marie. If you could just fill in this form, please Britt Marie appears at the paper, which requires her to give assurances about where she lives and who she is, an unreasonable amount of paperwork is required these days. Just to be a human being, a preposterous amount of administration for society to let one take part in the end, she reluctantly feels in her name. Social Security number and her cell phone number, the address boxes left empty. What's your educational background, Britt Marie Britt Marie squeezes her handbag. I'll have, you know that my education is excellent, but no formal education for your information. I solve an enormous number of crosswords, which is not the sort of thing one can do without an education. She takes a very small gulp of the coffee. It doesn't taste like tents, coffee at all, Kent makes very good coffee, everyone says so Britt Marie takes care of the coasters and Kent takes care of the coffee. Okay, what sort of life experience do you have? My latest employment was as a waitress. I had outstanding references. The girl looks hopeful. And when was that, 1978. Uh and you haven't worked since then. I have worked every day. Since then. I've helped my husband with his company again, The girl looks hopeful. And what sorts of tasks did you perform in the company? I took care of the Children and saw to it that our home was presentable. The girl smiles to hide her disappointment as people do when they don't have the ability to distinguish between a place to live and home. It's actually thoughtfulness that makes the difference because of thoughtfulness. There are coasters and proper coffee cups and beds that are made so tightly in the mornings that Kent jokes with his acquaintances about how if you stumble on the threshold on your way into the bedroom, there's a smaller risk of breaking your leg if you land on the floor than on the bedspread Britt Marie. Lowe's it when he talks that way, surely civilised people lift their feet when they walk across bedroom thresholds.