Phuti Radiphuti nodded. He looked rather miserable now, as if he was regretting the decision to attend the lesson. Mma Makutsi, for her part, was sure that people were looking at them as they stumbled along. She had changed her mind about whether it would have been better to remain firmly seated, unapproached by any man, than to be subjected to this awkward, bumbling performance. And there, only a few couples away, was somebody she recognised. She stole a glance and then looked away. Yes, it was her, one of the women from her year at the Botswana Secretarial College, one of those fun-loving glamorous girls who ended up getting barely fifty per cent, and there she was, dancing with a confident and attractive man. Mma Makutsi hardly dared look again, but was forced to do so when they found themselves getting closer and closer together.

“So!” shouted the glamorous girl. “So there you are! Grace Makutsi!”

Mma Makutsi affected surprise, smiling at the other girl. She noticed the eyes of the other move quickly to Phuti Radiphuti and then come back to rest on her, amused.

“Who is that?” stuttered Phuti Radiphuti. “Who …”

“She is just somebody I know,” said Mma Makutsi carelessly. “I have forgotten her name.”

“She is a very good dancer,” said Phuti Radiphuti, stumbling over each word.

“Dancing is not the only thing,” said Mma Makutsi quickly. “There are other things, you know.”

THE DANCE CLASS lasted for almost two hours. There were further exhibitions of the quickstep, performed with shimmering fluidity by Mr Fanope and Mma Betty, and then demonstrations of the waltz, which they were then all invited to attempt. Mma Makutsi, who had detached herself from Phuti Radiphuti while the demonstration was being performed, was hoping that somebody else would come and ask her to dance, but was quickly sought out by Phuti Radiphuti, who guided her clumsily back onto the floor.

At the end of the evening, he thanked her and offered to drive her home.

“I have a car outside,” he said. “I can take you.”

She hesitated. She felt sorry for this man, who seemed harmless enough, but this was not what she had hoped for, nor anticipated, for the evening. She had seen at least four men who looked attractive and interesting, but they had not looked at her, not for so much as an instant. Instead it had been her luck to have the attention of this poor man, decent though he was, with his terrible stutter and his awful clumsiness. So she should say no to his offer, so as not to encourage him, and wait for a minibus, or even walk home. It would take her no more than thirty minutes, and it was perfectly safe at this hour of night.