Mma Ramotswe looked away before she gave her reply. “Yes. There is something wrong. I did not want you to know, but there is something wrong.”

Mrs Moffat’s first thought was of the obvious. Mma Ramo-tswe and Mr J.L.B. Matekoni had recently married. Their wedding, which she and the doctor had attended, had been a surprise to everybody as they had all decided that Mr J.L.B. Matekoni, fine man though he was, would never make up his mind to get to the altar. Perhaps he had not been ready after all; perhaps the seemingly interminable engagement had been his way of saying that his heart was not really in marriage, and perhaps she was now discovering this. The thought of this appalled her. She knew that Mma Ramotswe had been married before, a long time ago; she had heard a little about this marriage—that it had been one of those awful violent marriages which so many women had to put up with—and it seemed so unfair that things should be going wrong again, if that is what was happening. It would be impossible, though, that they would be going wrong in the same way: Mr J.L.B. Matekoni was incapable of being violent—at least that was certain.

Mrs Moffat reached across and touched Mma Ramotswe lightly on the forearm. “Come,” she said. “You can talk to me. We can sit in the garden, or on the verandah if you prefer.”

Mma Ramotswe nodded, and turned off the engine. “I do not want to burden you,” she said. “It is not a big thing.”

“Tell me about it,” said Mrs Moffat. “Sometimes it’s good just to talk.”

They decided to sit on the verandah, where it was cool, and where they could look out over the garden that Mrs Moffat had spent so much time in creating. There was a towering jacaranda tree directly adjacent, and its great canopy of leaves gave shade to the house. It was a good place to sit and reflect.

Mma Ramotswe came straight to the point and told Mrs Moffat about the news which Mma Potokwane had given her. As she spoke, she saw her friend’s expression change from one of concern to one of what appeared to be relief.

“So that’s all,” said Mrs Moffat. “That’s all it is.”

Mma Ramotswe managed a smile. “I said it was not a big thing.”

Mrs Moffat laughed. “It certainly isn’t a big thing,” she said. “I imagined that there was something wrong with your marriage. I was busy thinking that Mr J.L.B. Matekoni had run away, or something like that. I was wondering what I would be able to say.”

“Mr J.L.B. Matekoni would never run away,” said Mma Ramotswe. “He is enjoying all the good food that I am putting on the table for him. He would never run away.”