Mr J.L.B. Matekoni stroked the leather stretched across the arms of the chair. It had a soft feel, and he could imagine himself in the sitting room at Zebra Drive, ensconced in the chair, stroking the leather on the arms and staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. In the background, in the kitchen, Mma Ramotswe would be preparing the evening meal and the tantalising smell of one of her rich stews would come wafting down the corridor. It was a vision of perfection, a glimpse of what heaven might be like, if one ever got there. Was there anything wrong with men sitting in such chairs and thinking such thoughts? he asked himself. Not really, although there did seem to be rather a lot of people about these days who wanted to make men feel guilty about that. He had heard one on the radio recently, and she had said that men were fundamentally lazy and just wanted to be waited on hand and foot by women. What a thing to say! He, for one, was not in the slightest bit lazy. He worked hard all day at Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors, he never let his customers down, and he handed over all the money he earned to Mma Ramotswe for their joint expenses. And if he wanted to sit in a chair from time to time and rest his weary bones, then was there anything wrong with that? Mma Ramotswe liked cooking, and if he went into the kitchen to try to help her, she would chase him out with very little ceremony. No, such people were very unfair about men, and very wrong too. But then he thought of the apprentices, and suddenly he realised that perhaps there was some truth in what had been said. They were the ones who gave men a bad name, with their slipshod ways and their arrogant attitudes towards women. They were the ones.

“So that’s the chair you like?” Phuti Radiphuti’s question brought Mr J.L.B. Matekoni back to the Double Comfort Furniture Shop and to the realisation that he was sitting in a chair that he would be unlikely to be able to afford.

“I like it,” he said. “But I think that perhaps we should look at something that is not quite so costly. I do not think that Mma Ramotswe …”

Phuti Radiphuti raised his hands to stop him. “But that chair has just gone on sale,” he said. “It is fifty per cent off. Right now. Specially for you.”

“Fifty per cent!” exclaimed Mma Makutsi. “That is very good. You must buy that chair, Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. It is a very big bargain.”

“But what will Mma Ramotswe …”

“She will thank you for it,” said Mma Makutsi firmly. “Mma Ramotswe likes a bargain as much as any other woman. She will be very pleased.”