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Chapters (23)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. TITLE PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CHAPTER ONE
  5. CHAPTER TWO
  6. CHAPTER THREE
  7. CHAPTER FOUR
  8. CHAPTER FIVE
  9. CHAPTER SIX
  10. CHAPTER SEVEN
  11. CHAPTER EIGHT
  12. CHAPTER NINE
  13. CHAPTER TEN
  14. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  15. CHAPTER TWELVE
  16. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  17. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  19. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  20. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  21. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  22. BOOKS BY ALEXANDER McCALL SMITH
  23. COPYRIGHT PAGE

As they left the shop, Mma Ramotswe made amends and told Mma Makutsi that she really thought the blue shoes very beautiful. There was no point in disapproving of a purchase once the deed had been done. She remembered learning this lesson from her father, the late Obed Ramotswe, about whom she thought every day, yes, every day, and who had been, she believed, one of the finest men in Botswana. He had been asked for his view of a bull which a man in Mochudi had bought, and although he had already confided in Precious that the bull would not be good for the herd—too lazy, he had said; a bull who would often say to the cows that he was too tired—although that was his view, he had not said that to the new owner.

“That is a bull who will give you no trouble,” he had said.

And that, she thought, had been just the right thing to say about that particular bull. But could she say the same thing about Mma Makutsi’s new shoes? She thought not. For those shoes would most certainly give Mma Makutsi trouble—the moment she tried to walk anywhere in them. That, thought Mma Ramotswe, was glaringly obvious.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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AT DINNER

THAT EVENING, Mr Polopetsi had his dinner early, almost immediately after he had returned from Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors. It had been a hard afternoon for him, as he had been replacing tyres on a large cattle truck owned by a loyal friend of Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. This client, who had a fleet of such trucks, could have taken his vehicles to one of the large garages which specialised in looking after such concerns, but chose instead to stick with his old friend. With the growth of the cattle transport firm, their business had become increasingly valuable, and now accounted for almost one eighth of the income of Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors.

Changing the tyres on such large trucks was very physical work, and Mr Polopetsi, who was a relatively slight man, found that it sorely taxed his strength. But it was not physical tiredness that caused him to ask for an early dinner; there was quite another reason. “I have work to do tonight,” he announced to his wife, slightly mysteriously. “Work for the agency.”

Mma Polopetsi raised an eyebrow. “Does Mma Ramotswe ask you to do overtime? Will she pay you?”

“No,” he said. “She does not know that I am doing this work. I am doing it quietly.”