“He said that he had always been hard-working and, anyway, he was getting a bit tired of women. Apparently this lady with the Mercedes-Benz is a bit demanding. She wants him to pay a lot of attention to her.”

“I have always thought that about people who drive around in expensive cars,” said Mma Ramotswe. “But I have never thought that about ladies who drive vans.”

They laughed at this, and each of them poured another cup of tea.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A VISIT FROM MR PHUTI RADIPHUTI’S FATHER, THE ELDER MR RADIPHUTI

IN THE DAYS and weeks that followed, life returned to normal at the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency and at Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors.

“I have had quite enough excitement,” observed Mma Ramotswe to Mma Makutsi. “There was that bad business with Note. There was the terrible thing that happened to the tiny white van. And then there was the row over Charlie. I do not think that I could have taken much more.”

“You are right, Mma,” said Mma Makutsi. “We have never had so much happen all at the same time. It is better for things to happen separately. I have always said that.” She paused to think for a moment before continuing. “At the Botswana Secretarial College they taught us to do one thing at a time. That is what they said we should do. One thing at a time.”

Mma Ramotswe nodded. “That is very true,” she said. She was not sure that everything that Mma Makutsi attributed to the Botswana Secretarial College could really have been taught there; after all, surely they had much more to teach than aphorisms. And for her part, of course, Mma Makutsi had those doubts about Mma Ramotswe’s attribution of sayings and views to Seretse Khama. But neither expressed their doubts very much, which was what civility required.

It was true that rather too much had happened. Now both Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi were looking forward to a period of stability and peace. That is not to say that they were averse to the appearance of an interesting client with a challenging problem; such clients were always welcome—indeed they were necessary—but it would be helpful if such a person did not cross their threshold for a week or two.

Mma Ramotswe was sure that Mr J.L.B. Matekoni would share her views on this. He had busied himself with the repair of the tiny white van—a task that had taken him several days—but now that was finished and she was once again at the wheel of the vehicle she loved so much.

“That van will not last forever,” Mr J.L.B. Matekoni had warned her. “You know that, don’t you?”

Mma Ramotswe had admitted this, as she had done on many occasions, “A few more years will be enough,” she said. “Five, six years maybe. Then I shall say goodbye to it.”