“That is right,” said Mma Ramotswe. “That is what most people would do.”

“Mind you,” said Mma Potokwane, “we have had people leave gifts out here at the gate. Once I found a box of food just sitting there, with no note. Some kind person had left it for the children.”

“That is good,” said Mma Ramotswe. “But then it is a bit different, isn’t it? I am not a charity. Nobody would leave a pumpkin because they felt that I was in need of pumpkins.”

Mma Potokwane saw the reason in this and was about to make an observation to this effect when she stopped herself short. Another possibility had occurred to her. Mma Ramotswe was assuming that the pumpkin had been intended for her, but what if somebody had placed it there by mistake? It was possible that somebody had intended the pumpkin for somebody else who lived on Zebra Drive but had delivered it to the wrong house. She was about to suggest this when she was stopped by Mma Ramotswe.

“Does it matter?” mused Mma Ramotswe. “Here we are talking about a pumpkin. There are plenty of pumpkins in this country. Is it sensible to spend one’s time talking about pumpkins when there are more important things to talk about?”

Mma Potokwane agreed with this. “You are quite right,” she said. “We have talked about this pumpkin for long enough. So let us talk about something more important.”

Mma Ramotswe did not waste time. “Well,” she said. “We have a very big problem with Charlie. I think that this problem is even bigger than the thorn that he got in the back of his trousers when he did that parachute jump.”

“It is to do with a woman?” prompted Mma Potokwane.

“Yes,” said Mma Ramotswe. “Now listen to this.”

Mma Potokwane settled back in her chair. She had had a soft spot for Charlie since he had done the parachute jump for the benefit of the orphan farm. She considered him something of a character, and the prospect of hearing some juicy bit of information about his amorous entanglements was an interesting one. But then she remembered that there was something that she had meant to mention to Mma Ramotswe. It would be important to bring this up before Mma Ramotswe got into full flow, otherwise she might forget. So she raised a hand to interrupt.

“Before you begin, Mma,” she said, “there’s something I thought I should tell you about.”

Mma Ramotswe looked at her friend expectantly. She wondered whether Mma Potokwane perhaps already knew about Charlie’s affair and might even be able to tell her about the woman involved. Mma Potokwane knew so much about what was going on that it would not be at all surprising if she knew exactly who it was who had been at the wheel of that sleek silver Mercedes-Benz.