She now no longer cared whether Note came to the house or to the office. She had nothing to hide from Mr J.L.B. Matekoni—she had not been married before, and the marriage which Trevor Mwamba had performed for them under the tree at the orphan farm was perfectly valid. She also realised that if Note had already been married at the time of her marriage to him, then her marriage to him was null and void, and this meant that Note had never been her husband at any point. That was a liberating thought for her, and it had a curious effect on her feelings for him. She was not afraid now. He had never been her husband. She felt free of him, quite free.

Note chose that afternoon to come to the garage, and she was ready for him. It was Mr J.L.B. Matekoni who spoke to him first, and he came through to the office to let her know that he had arrived.

“Do you want me to get rid of him?” he whispered. “I can tell him to go away. Do you want me to do that?”

Mma Makutsi watched from her desk, pretending not to be too interested, but excited nonetheless. She would be happy to tell Note to go away too; they had only to ask her and she would deal with him in a most decisive manner.

Mma Ramotswe rose from her chair. “No,” she said. “I want to speak to him. I want to say something to him.”

“Do you want me to be there?” asked Mr J.L.B. Matekoni.

Mma Ramotswe shook her head. “This is something that I wish to do for myself,” she said. And Mr J.L.B. Matekoni knew, from her tone, that she was resolved. Note would have to be a strong man to stand up to Mma Ramotswe in this mood. He glanced at Mma Makutsi, who raised an eyebrow, and made a slow cutting movement across her throat. She too realised what a risk Note was running.

Mma Ramotswe walked out of the office and saw Note standing next to a customer’s car, running a hand across the highly polished bodywork.

“Nice car,” he said. “There are some rich people in this town these days. Lots of cars like this.”

“Don’t put your finger-marks on it, please,” said Mma Ramotswe. “The apprentice has spent hours polishing that car.”

Note looked at her in astonishment. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Mma Ramotswe launched into her attack.

“I went to see your mother,” she said. “I went to your place the other night. Did she tell you?”

Note shook his head. “I have not been down there over the last few days.”

“Poor woman,” said Mma Ramotswe. “She must be very ashamed of you.”

Note’s eyes widened. “You mind your own business,” he spat out. “You keep away from her.”