‘Let’s give tonight’s first speaker a round of applause. The man who never ducks the debate. Who like no one else knows how to make his voice heard and open doors for our policies! The one and only Sievert Landertz!’

Landertz stepped out on to the stage dressed in a dark leather jacket, shirt and tie, and, to the sound of applause and cheers, shook hands with the man in the scout outfit and stepped up to the podium.

‘People tell me all the time that you can’t judge all Muslims by what some Muslims do,’ he said as soon as the audience had settled down. ‘That only the most fundamentalist Muslims and Islamists are a problem. If you ask me, that’s semantics, and if semantics is the name of the game, we might as well call them by their real name. Which is to say “rats”, or why not “cockroaches”?’ There was more scattered laughter and clapping. ‘They’re certainly not people!’ He shook his head and smiled as if that was self-evident. ‘I don’t know about you, but I call them vermin!’ The shouting and cheering grew louder. ‘And what do we normally do with vermin? That’s right! We exterminate it!’ He mimed spraying pesticide in the air, and the venue exploded with cheering and raised right arms when he upped the ante by pulling on a swastika armband.

Lilja was not surprised in the slightest. Landertz was far from the first Sweden Democrat to have come out of the Nazi closet. Even so, it made her feel sick; she wanted to march up on to the stage, snatch the microphone from him and ask what in God’s name they thought they were doing.

‘At one end of the scale are people who are one hundred per cent human, like everyone in here,’ Landertz continued. ‘At the other end, they’re one hundred per cent Mohammadan, and right now they’re pouring in across our borders! Parasites out to rape our women, defecate in our churches and leech our country of all its riches. Just look at the numbers, it’s undeniable. We build. We produce and create. And what do they do? They take! They take our money. Our jobs. Our university places. Our homes. The bloody swine even have the gall to take our seats at the front of the bus!’

The audience was virtually roaring out its frustration at this point. Landertz eventually had to signal to them to simmer down before he could carry on.