She closed her eyes. Did she feel any of the symptoms? Did she feel a tightening of the chest as the neurotoxin took effect? That would make breathing difficult. And then it would go to the eyes, and vision would go, and the heart would race as it tried to pump blood about a body that sensed the venom the blood bore with it.

She felt no pain. Nothing. She looked again at her ankle. There was nothing to see beyond the scratch. “I don’t think I am going to die,” she said, under her breath. And then added, “Yet.”

CHAPTER TEN

THE FAT CATTLE CLUB

MMA MAKUTSI AND FANWELL looked at Mma Ramotswe with concern. She was seated on her verandah, her leg freshly bandaged just above the ankle; at her side, on a small, rather rickety table was a pot of red bush tea.

“We were shocked, Mma,” said Mma Makutsi. “Very shocked indeed.”

“Yes,” said Fanwell. “To our foundations, Mma. We were shocked to our foundations.”

Mma Ramotswe laughed. They were her fourth set of visitors that morning, and everyone had expressed much the same sentiments of shock; this was flattering, but had made her feel as if she was making a fuss about nothing. She felt completely well and had now decided that the doctor who said she should rest for two days had been far too cautious. After this visit from Mma Makutsi and Fanwell, she would bring her convalescence to an end and resume normal life.

“Tell us what happened,” said Mma Makutsi. “You were in your neighbour’s garden at midnight and…”

Fanwell frowned. “Why were you in your neighbour’s garden, Mma—especially at midnight?”

Mma Ramotswe made a gesture that implied that this was not a question they needed to bother about. “I’ll explain in due course,” she said. “It’s a bit complicated. I was there and my light ran out of power.”

“So you were in the dark?” prompted Fanwell.

“Yes, I was in the dark and couldn’t really see where I was putting my feet. And I trod on a snake—I think it was a puff adder.”

Mma Makutsi’s detection instincts came to the fore. “How could you tell in the dark, Mma?”

“I felt it,” said Mma Ramotswe. “You know how most snakes are thin and quite lean? Well this was fat and soft. That meant it was a puff adder—that is what they are like.”

“She’s right,” said Fanwell, nodding in agreement. “Those snakes are like that. They are two or three times as fat as ordinary snakes.”

Mma Ramotswe continued her account. “It struck, and I thought that I was dead. I thought: this is the end.”

Fanwell drew in his breath. “Ow, Mma! I have heard that your whole life flashes before you just before you die. Have you heard that? Did that happen?”