A small group of students emerged from a building beside the kitchen. It was the end of a class, and they stood in groups of two or three outside the classroom, talking among themselves, laughing at shared jokes. It was the end of the month for them too, Mma Ramotswe assumed, and they would have their allowances in their pockets and thoughts of the weekend’s socialising ahead of them. What was it like, she wondered, to be one of them? Mma Ramotswe herself had gone from girlhood to the world of work without anything in between and had never known the student life. Did they know, she wondered, just how fortunate they were?

One of the students detached herself from a group and started to walk across the patch of ground that separated the van from the kitchen building. When she drew level with the van, she glanced in Mma Ramotswe’s direction.

“Excuse me, Mma,” shouted Mma Ramotswe through the open window of her van. “Excuse me, Mma!”

The young woman stopped and looked across at Mma Ramotswe, who was now getting out of the van.

“Yes, Mma,” said the student. “Are you calling me?”

Mma Ramotswe made her way over to stand before the young woman. “Yes, Mma,” she said. “Do you know the lady who works in the kitchen? Mma Tsau? Do you know that lady?”

The student smiled. “She is the cook,” she said. “Yes, I know her.”

“I need to speak to her,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I need to speak to her out here, in my van. I do not want to speak to her when there are other people about.”

The student looked blank. “So?” she said.

“So I wonder if you would go and tell her, Mma,” said Mma Ramotswe. “Could you go and tell her that there is somebody out here who needs to speak to her?”

The young woman frowned. “Could you not go yourself, Mma? Why do you need me to do this for you?”

Mma Ramotswe looked searchingly into the face of the young woman before her. What bond was there between them? Were they strangers, people who would have no reason to do anything for one another? Or was this still a place where one might go and speak to another, even a complete stranger, and make a request for help, as had been possible in the past?

“I am asking you,” said Mma Ramotswe quietly. “I am asking you …” And then she hesitated, but only for a moment, before she continued, “I am asking you, my sister.”

For a moment the young woman said nothing, but then she moved her head slightly; she nodded. “I will do that,” she said. “I will go.”

MMA TSAU, a squat, rather round woman, appeared from the door of the kitchen office, paused, and looked out over the grounds of the college. Her gaze fell upon the tiny white van and she hesitated for a moment. Within the van, Mma Ramotswe raised a hand, which Mma Tsau did not see, but she saw the van, and the young woman had said, “There is a woman who needs to see you urgently, Mma. She is outside in a small white van. She is too big for that van, if you ask me, but she wants to see you there.”