The Little Old Lady Who Struck Lucky Again! by Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg Page A

not amateurs. Perhaps they were even mafia types. And challenging that sort was dangerous. For that matter, perhaps the bikers in the
neighbouring house were dangerous too. The new name on their letter box, Outlaw Oldies, could attract more biker gangs. She must remember to remove it.
    Martha raised herself on her elbow and adjusted the covers and pillows. She didn’t want to be involved with dangerous people. Would it not be better to start all over again with new
crimes? They couldn’t just sit here and play bridge and fill in sudoku while the old and poor were in need. No, it was high time that the League of Pensioners struck again. And why not try a
proper bank robbery, like the professionals? In fact, those institutions ought to get a prize for the smartest business in the world, she thought half-asleep, putting her hand over her mouth and
yawning. The bank officials said that you should deposit your capital in their bank accounts, but as soon as you walked there to get your money out,
then you couldn’t
!
    ‘Because we have stopped handling large sums of cash,’ as a smiling bank official had explained to Martha one day. And perhaps they had to do that at the banks nowadays, when they
lent out money they didn’t really have – with gold reserves and the like. And Martha thought that it was even more outrageous that
they charged interest on that make-believe
money!
    Admittedly, the League of Pensioners would find it hard to conjure up such a brilliant scam, and – in comparison – a little bank robbery was nothing. Wasn’t it high time that
somebody challenged the banks? And why not, in that case, a gang of pensioners? Martha puffed up the pillows, lay on her side and pulled the covers up to her chin. After a few moments a peaceful
smile appeared in her wrinkled face. Her eyelids drooped and soon she was deeply immersed in an exciting dream where she robbed ten banks on the same day.
    The next morning, Martha went down to the cellar and looked at their future gym. Next to the boiler room there was a space that at some time in the past must have been used as
storage for logs and coal. Brains had promised to clean the place up but since computer games had entered his life he found it very easy to forget everything else. Martha couldn’t wait any
longer. So she got hold of a firm of cleaners, and roped Anders and Emma in to give her a hand too. They painted the walls white, put up exercise bars and laid down some lino. Then, when it had all
dried, they managed to get all the gym equipment down into the cellar. They even put up those big rings in the ceiling, but Martha saw those as more of a decorative feature. None of them could jump
up that high – no way.
    A few days later, everything was ready and Martha wrung her hands with delight. Now they would get back into shape! From today on, there wouldn’t be so many cakes and buns, and in their
place would be more greens and fruit. The others reluctantly went along with this for the sake of their friendship, but deep inside they suspected that new plans were being laid. When Martha
started talking about fitness and greens, a bank robbery tended to be in the offing.
    And they weren’t wrong, as the very next day she started up. The cellar gym wasn’t very large, and already after thirty minutes there was a smell of sweat. Martha was a hard
taskmaster and her poor friends had to suffer the consequences.
    ‘One. Two. One. Two. Full speed ahead! Up with your arm and up with your knee – a little higher. That’s it. Don’t cheat! What are you up to, Rake? Up, stretch, switch and
up again, twist and bend down! That’s the way!’ Martha shouted out the instructions and waved her arms. ‘Lower your head a little, lean in, and continue for a while like that . .
.’
    She kept a good lookout so that nobody skipped anything, but she could hear from their heavy breathing that the others were beginning to tire. Just a little bit more, a little more