Mma Makutsi kept her door open. “Then get out this side, Mma. Come over here.”

Mma Ramotswe began to slide over to the other side, negotiating her way past the handbrake and gear lever between the driver’s and the passenger’s side. She stopped. It had looked as if the manoeuvre would be possible, but there was less room than she had imagined and she suddenly realised that she could easily become stuck.

“Breathe in,” said Mma Makutsi. “If you breathe in you become smaller, Mma.”

Mma Ramotswe inhaled, and then, with a wriggle and a further twist, she was out of the door.

“Perhaps a larger van, Mma…,” said Mma Makutsi gently.

Mma Ramotswe shook her head. “There is nothing wrong with my van, Mma. It is the parking places that are getting smaller and smaller. It’s not as if the country is shrinking, and yet they are always leaving less and less space for us to park.”

“You are quite right,” said Mma Makutsi. “Soon there will be no room to park at all and we shall have to drive round and round and then go home.”

Mma Ramotswe stood beside the van, adjusting her skirt. As she did so, she became aware that somebody had approached them silently from behind another parked car. It was Susan.

“Is something wrong?”

Mma Makutsi turned round. “No, Mma. We had difficulty parking—that’s all.”

Susan looked at her watch. “We are both early—will they be ready for us?”

“They always put the lunch out early,” said Mma Makutsi. “They’ll be ready.”

“So,” said Susan as they began to walk about the car park. “Have you found her?”

“Yes,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I have found her.”

Susan seemed pleased. “When can I see her? This afternoon some time?”

Mma Ramotswe drew in her breath. “Why do you want to see her, Mma?”

It took Susan a few moments to answer. “I’ve told you why, Mma,” she said. “You know the reason.”

“To make contact with your past?”

“Yes. I told you that right at the beginning.”

Mma Ramotswe stopped. They were in the middle of the car park, but there was no traffic.

“But why do you want to make contact with your past, Mma? That’s what I’m interested in.”

Mma Ramotswe was aware that Susan was irritated. She heard her breathing become more rapid. “With all due respect, Mma,” she began, “that’s my business.”

Mma Ramotswe was now in no doubt. “You want to confront her, Mma—I think you want to confront that woman because she was cruel. Did she mistreat you, Mma? Is that it?”

Mma Ramotswe glanced at the other woman. She saw that the effect of her words was immediate. When she replied, Susan’s voice was raised. “Mistreat me? Who told you about that? Did I say anything about it?”