But then she rose to her feet and moved over to stand next to the distraught woman. Putting an arm about her shoulder, she said, “I didn’t come here, Mma, to talk about your husband.”

Somehow her words penetrated the haze of distress enwrapping Mma Bothoko. After a few moments, the sobbing stopped.

Mma Bothoko struggled to speak. “Why are you here, then, Mma?”

“I wanted to know who used to live in this house, Mma—that is all.”

Mma Bothoko glanced at Charlie, as if he might have a different, more sinister purpose.

“And this young man was helping me with that,” Mma Ramotswe went on. “You have answered that question for us, and we need not trouble you further.”

Mma Bothoko sniffed loudly. Mma Ramotswe had handed her a handkerchief, and now she used this to wipe her eyes. Her voice was now under control, although there was an edge of fear to it. “I’ve been talking nonsense,” she said. “You mustn’t listen to me, Mma Ramotswe. I have been very upset and when I’m upset I just speak nonsense—nonsense, nonsense.”

Mma Ramotswe noticed that as she spoke, Mma Bothoko’s eyes were fixed on her, appraising her reaction. “Of course you were upset, Mma,” she reassured her. “That can happen to all of us. It’s only natural.”

There was relief in Mma Bothoko’s expression. Now she was the conscientious hostess. “I have only given you water,” she said. “I must give you something to eat.”

Mma Ramotswe shook her head. “You’re very kind, Mma, but my assistant and I must be on our way. We still have to look for this house, you see.”

Mma Bothoko did not seek to persuade them but ushered them out onto the driveway. Her conversation now seemed focused on restoring normality.

“Our garden needs the rain,” she said. “I have been trying to keep these plants going, but every year it gets harder, doesn’t it, Mma? More and more of a battle.”

“Yes,” agreed Mma Ramotswe. “My husband grows beans and he is complaining too.”

“Beans need water,” said Mma Bothoko.

Mma Ramotswe nodded. “A drip system is best. You waste very little water that way.”

Charlie felt that he had to say something. “We mustn’t waste water,” he said.

Mma Bothoko said that this was absolutely true, and Mma Ramotswe took the same view. By that time, though, they had reached the gate and were able to make their farewells.

“You must forgive me for being so silly,” said Mma Bothoko. “Talking all that nonsense.”

“Of course,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I have forgotten all about it, Mma. You mustn’t worry.”

They walked to the van in silence and it was not until they were well down the road that Mma Ramotswe spoke.

“That was very sad,” she said.

“She thought you’d come about something else?” said Charlie.

“Yes. About her husband—obviously.”