Blue Shoes and Happiness

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

1 AUNTY EMANG, SOLVER OF PROBLEMS

2 CORRECT AND INCORRECT WAYS OF DEALING WITH A SNAKE

3 FREE FOOD MAKES YOU FAT

4 WHAT FEMINISTS HAVE IN MIND FOR MEN

5 MORE CONVERSATIONS WITH SHOES

6 HOW TO DEAL WITH AN ANGRY OSTRICH

7 MR POLOPETSI, AND THE COMPLICATIONS IN HIS LIFE

8 A MEETING IN THE TINY WHITE VAN

9 FILING CABINETS, LOCKS, CHAINS

10 YOU ARE FRIGHTENED OF SOMETHING

11 YOU WILL BE VERY HAPPY IN THAT CHAIR

12 BLOOD PRESSURE

13 BLUE SHOES

14 AT DINNER

15 MR POLOPETSI TRIES TO BE HELPFUL

16 DR MOFFAT MAKES A DIAGNOSIS

17 WAITING FOR A VISIT

About the Author

Also by Alexander McCall Smith

Copyright Page

This book is for

Bernard Ditau in Botswana

and

Kenneth and Pravina King in Scotland

CHAPTER ONE

AUNTY EMANG, SOLVER OF PROBLEMS

WHEN YOU ARE JUST the right age, as Mma Ramotswe was, and when you have seen a bit of life, as Mma Ramotswe certainly had, then there are some things that you just know. And one of the things that was well known to Mma Ramotswe, only begetter of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency (Botswana’s only ladies’ detective agency), was that there were two sorts of problems in this life. Firstly, there were those problems—and they were major ones—about which one could do very little, other than to hope, of course. These were the problems of the land, of fields that were too rocky, of soil that blew away in the wind, or of places where crops would just not thrive for some sickness that lurked in the very earth. But looming greater than anything else there was the problem of drought. It was a familiar feeling in Botswana, this waiting for rain, which often simply did not come, or came too late to save the crops. And then the land, scarred and exhausted, would dry and crack under the relentless sun, and it would seem that nothing short of a miracle would ever bring it to life. But that miracle would eventually arrive, as it always had, and the landscape would turn from brown to green within hours under the kiss of the rain. And there were other colours that would follow the green; yellows, blues, reds would appear in patches across the veld as if great cakes of dye had been crumbled and scattered by an unseen hand. These were the colours of the wild flowers that had been lurking there, throughout the dry season, waiting for the first drops of moisture to awaken them. So at least that sort of problem had its solution, although one often had to wait long, dry months for that solution to arrive.

The other sorts of problems were those which people made for themselves. These were very common, and Mma Ramotswe had seen many of them in the course of her work. Ever since she had set up this agency, armed only with a copy of Clovis Andersen’s The Principles of Private Detection—and a great deal of common sense—scarcely a day had gone by without her encountering some problem which people had brought upon themselves. Unlike the first sort of problem—drought and the like—these were difficulties that could have been avoided. If people were only more careful, or behaved themselves as they should, then they would not find themselves faced with problems of this sort. But of course people never behaved themselves as they should. “We are all human beings,” Mma Ramotswe had once observed to Mma Makutsi, “and human beings can’t really help themselves. Have you noticed that, Mma? We can’t really help ourselves from doing things that land us in all sorts of trouble.”