Mr J.L.B. Matekoni sighed. “Brakes? Or the pump?”

“The pump,” said Mma Potokwane. “It is making a very strange noise. The water comes all right, but the pump makes a noise as if it is in pain.”

“Engines do feel pain,” said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. “They tell us of their pain by making a noise.”

“Then this pump needs help,” said Mma Potokwane. “Can you take a quick look at it?”

“Of course,” said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni.

IT TOOK him longer than he had expected, but at last he found the cause and was able to attend to it. The pump reassembled, he tested it, and it ran sweetly once more. It would need a total refit, of course, and that day would not be able to be put off for much longer, but at least the strange, moaning sound had stopped.

Back in Mma Potokwane’s office, he relaxed with his cup of tea and a large slab of currant cake which the cooks had baked that morning. The orphans were well fed. The Government looked after its orphans well and gave a generous grant each year. But there were also private donors—a network of people who gave in money, or kind, to the orphan farm. This meant that none of the orphans actually wanted for anything and none of them was malnourished, as happened in so many other African countries. Botswana was a well-blessed country. Nobody starved and nobody languished in prison for their political beliefs. As Mma Ramotswe had pointed out to him, the Batswana could hold their heads up anywhere—anywhere.

“This is good cake,” said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. “The children must love it.”

Mma Potokwane smiled. “Our children love cake. If we gave them nothing but cake, they would be very happy. But of course we don’t. The orphans need onions and beans too.”

Mr J.L.B. Matekoni nodded. “A balanced diet,” he said widely. “They say that a balanced diet is the key to health.”

There was silence for a moment as they reflected on his observation. Then Mma Potokwane spoke.

“So you will be a married man soon,” she said. “That will make your life different. You will have to behave yourself, Mr J.L.B. Matekoni!”

He laughed, scraping up the last crumbs of his cake. “Mma Ramotswe will watch me. She will make sure that I behave myself well.”

“Mmm,” said Mma Potokwane. “Will you be living in her house or in yours?”

“I think it will be her house,” said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. “It is a bit nicer than mine. Her house is in Zebra Drive, you know.”

“Yes,” said the Matron. “I have seen her place. I drove past it the other day. It looks very nice.”

Mr J.L.B. Matekoni looked surprised. “You drove past specially to take a look?”

“Well,” said Mma Potokwane, grinning slightly. “I thought that I might just see what sort of place it was. It’s quite big, isn’t it?”

“It’s a comfortable house,” said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. “I think that there will be enough room for us.”