Elin Wennerström

# Elin Wennerström

September 15, 2013

Elin got up her new iPhone 5 and typed a little distracted on the screen. Five new messages. She was tired, thirsty and had a soured mouth from talking Spanish, which she had done virtually 24 hours a day they last 12 months. She had been on Spanish course in Uruguay in the old fishing village named "Bahia de los Giris" . Swedish CSN (State scholarship) had payed the bill which would then be repaid during the rest of her life, little by little, but it was worth it. Actually, she had used the money to buy a diploma in spanish 12 months, in Spain, 100% attendance. This is because the CSN only provides student loans to study in Spanish if one studies the language in Spain. But in Uruguay, there is not much concern or you ignore the laws and rules. You do what you want, as long as it is paid for. In Uruguay it was also cheaper.

A speaker voice sounded the alarm about seatbelts on.

 Elin finally sat on the flight home to her residence in Irun (Spain), she had done 12 months course in Spanish. Language studies that would get a mere mortal to destroy herself. But she had reached the target fluent in Spanish, wow, she was proud and satisfied. The money that was left over had sufficed to a whole new body from head to toe. New buttocks, taken away a couple of ribs and enlarged breasts, she had taken the opportunity to fill the lips forever, and her nose wasn't any longer so crooked, the ears didn't any longer stand straight out, she was good looking and proud, she was HOT. She had not gone to school, but she had learned Spanish well enough, she had studied with:

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The Arc de Triomph method. She had also acquired friends to keep in touch with the Spanish via Facebook, she had been around and talked to people, and she had taken small buckling little here and there to get practice in the language. Moreover, she had a grade that said she knew Spanish. Elin smiled as she thought of how smart she was. Though financially, she needed neither grants nor loans from CSN. It was just in her nature to exploit systems, a defect she had inherited from her father.

Back to the iPhone.

Alain Ferrier: -Are you alive? Happy birthday, can I invite you a piece of cake? Elin choosed the answer button on the phone: -No, I'm in Buenos Aires ... She thought before she sent the message. Was it good to say where she was? Could he have new perils going on? Hmm, Buenos Aires... if he even thought of it as true or false... she was too far away, and with her new look, he would never recognise her. 'Send'.

Joanna: - Happy birthday, gone again? If you had any good manners in you, maybe you could come here sometimes. If you don't want my proximity anymore, you can say that, or maybe at least come and get the mail or have a coffee break. / Your friend Joanna.

Joanna lived, thus it was a good sign. Joanna was one of the few that Elin knew that did not use computers. Joanna normally sat at Wayne's Coffe in Stockholm, drank mineral water or coffee from their new super-maker with capsules. Joanna had even purchased the same machine for her home and she had invited Elin a coffee before Elin went away last year. It was her birthday that day as well. The coffee had been much better and with less cleaning than Elin's machine that had cost 1 000 Euro, compared with Joanna's that had only cost a few hundred euro and gave a better coffee, though a bit more expensive per cup, but what the heck, if it made better coffe and the best, it didn't take all the cleaning that Elin's machine demanded. A cup of coffee and a little milk foam, then thirty minutes of dish washing. Elin thought a bit, what do one answer such a message? "I will visit you as soon as I can !" Nah. Sounds to desperate, "No not today, have other plans?" no neither that. Elin thought for herself: If I don't care to answer she believes maybe that all is well and will worry a little bit about things as usual, then it will probably be all good later on and I don't have to explain a lot. It suited Elin good, less Internet traffic and less waste of talk later. Finally she answered and it became: -I'm on my way home to Irun, after one year in Uruguay. I'll let you know if I come to Sweden. Otherwise, you are welcome to visit me in Spain, I pay for the ticket, if needed. Maybe we can make a new film on a sandy beach in the south of France ... licking on you.

Next message came from her well-tested friend, Bert Milton, founder and owner of the Swedish and now international porn empire PRIVATE. He wrote, there was a great need to meet. As usual, he did not say why or what it was about. She knew ... It was big stuff going on again, Then Alain fucking Ferrier's invitation to "eat" cake wasn't only a friendly gesture to try to reconcile again ... it was business for them, complications for Elin. Complications that she did not like. She regretted deeply that she had to go home to Irun. She had no real economic problems, she really never had, not even long time before she got into the dangerous games such as these testosterone-fueled men played.

Elin, daughter of "Hans Erik Wennerström." A major financier of his time, he had helped his daughter to live her life as she wanted despite her cocaine addiction. He had bought her an apartment building in the Spanish town of Irun where the apartments were rented with good profit and everything was handled by a local broker and lawyer. Cocaine did not cost so much in Spain and she had close to France and she would be able to do good sports that her father had hoped. Elin was not a sports fan though, she thought high heels, tights and large milky coffee was The way to live life.

Svante: - Happy birthday! He had sent one of those dorky congratulation cards with advertising. Poor guy, does not seem to go so well with Television shows, he must send me a free birthday card? It must be something fishy. The best with free card was to lax respond to such cards.

 Elin was inserted in Svantes new jobs. He had taken over Editor in chief item in the magazine Expo, formerly operated by Stieg Larsson, author of the trilogy Milennium. (Of course, it was not Svante that had actually sent the card. But it was a bad joke by Alain Ferrier. He knew what Elin thought about Stieg Larsson and his circle.

The fifth message came from someone that Elin did not know how he had found her, though it would be interesting to know. "BEE" was the message. Neither more nor less. She realized that even he was in mischief. It was an honor, it was more important than to go to Sweden to fuck with Joanna, it was definitely more important than a ridiculous birthday card, not to talk about Bert fucking Milton. Milton and BEE, was Elin's lifelines, she knew. Not financially, no, but for her safety, BEE was her friend and lover. Bert Milton, could through his International contacts probably lock her assets, she knew he could be dangerous if he wanted to. BEE, was just a silly old man. Joanna She did not let her down, she took care of her swedish mail, moreover, she had not met anyone else who fucked so well and after a year of silence had nothing against to simply open the door and have a full night's orgy.

Elin wrote to BEE: Spanish Question Mark ¿? to answer, to know what  BEE wanted. Then the Internet went down, and the engines started to rush and the aeroplane took off with a hideous murmur. Elin had flown around the globe a few times, but she learned never to like this suction in the stomach and the feeling of being completely at the mercy of the captain and his wings, she had never been afraid of flying before, this time it was different. It was with great fear mixed with uncertainty limits and the unanswered questions, which she ascended to 10,000 feet altitude and would hover around the next 15 hours above the sea and mountains, to Madrid Barajas Airport and then on a transfer national flight to San Sebastian Airport in Hondarribia, the neighboring village to Irun where she since a couple of years were the owner of aR ental Propertie, on the street "Avenida de Ipparalde" it sounded "chick" she thought for herself. As the fifth Avenue in new York, or Champs Ellysess in Paris. Though the street was not so special it had its fine corners. At one end the Public Hall of Justice was placed, in the other end the city exhibition and Conference center and the border with France, an international Avenue. She had the property at number 22, and around the corner wre moreover, the Basque police barracks located.

Elin had gotten to know many different kinds of people in her 23 years short life. She had studied at Swedish high school in the time it was called the Natural Science program, three years, she had also studied some courses at the University of Stockholm. She is though a rather unusual Swedish person, what have made her different? The people she have met and what they have told her. She has, however as well been born different. Her father was a financier Hans-Erik Wennerström. He had pulled in their horns in Stieg Larsson's first attempt to destroy him. Hans Erik had by then acquired an apartment real estate building in Spain to Elin and thus She was financially independent. The thing that made her who she is, was in addition to her major cocaine dependence also  the fact that she is a nymphomaniac and bisexual. Some of the people she has met have died on the road, but that doesn't make their stories less interesting ... quite the contrary, what they told her, they wanted her to tell as many people as possible about their experiences and mistakes they had made, which ended their lives in prematurely. She used to sit on Robin's Diner in Irun and open her heart to the seasoned Swedish Diner owner Frederick.