Klara was invited to a Halloween party at the house of school friends. I always have too much going on, so I forgot to check the property prices at the address where we were going. And of course, as my luck would have it, it turned out to be a rich people house. Like in one of those tomb-like mansions surrounding an artificial lake with a whole room serving as a wine cellar, a kitchen the size of my entire first floor, and 4 hired help to entertain 6 children.
I felt underdressed, frumpy, and mumsy the whole time.
On the positive side, the local rich people are better in terms of sociability than the local middle-class folks. I didn’t have to struggle painfully to draw them out.
And a really fantastic and very unusual thing was that nobody asked me where I was from, made any comments about my accent or name, or reacted to me any differently than to anybody else. This never happens to me at all, ever. And I really loved it.
P.S. As I understand it, I now need to feel cheated by cruel fate if Klara never makes enough to buy a house like this one and can only afford the kind of house we live in now, right?