‘I didn’t know that you were interested in football, Mma Makutsi,’ she said suddenly. ‘That is quite a surprise.’

For a moment, Mma Makutsi hesitated; then she smiled, a shy smile, thought Mma Ramotswe. ‘I do not know a great deal about it,’ she said, adding, ‘but then there are some people who know even less about it than I do.’ This last comment was clearly directed at Mma Ramotswe, who took it in good spirit. She knew that it was sometimes hard for Mma Makutsi, being only an assistant detective when she had gained very high marks from the Botswana Secretarial College. Mma Makutsi had achieved the previously unheard-of mark of 97 per cent in the final examinations at the college, and never hesitated to remind people of this achievement. But she should be allowed – and deserved – her little morsel of pride.

We are all proud of something, thought Mma Ramotswe. Mma Makutsi was proud of her 97 per cent. Mr J. L. B. Matekoni was proud of the fact that he had been chosen to maintain the British High Commissioner’s official white vehicle. Mma Potokwani, the matron of the orphan farm, was proud of the fact that so many of the children who passed through the orphanage did well at school, found good jobs and came back to visit her with their own children. As for the two apprentices at the garage, they must be proud of something – although Mma Ramotswe found it a bit difficult to think of exactly what that might be.

Mr Gefeli was looking at Mma Makutsi with appreciation. ‘Well, that is very true, Mma,’ he said. ‘We have that fine goalkeeper. He is called James Pikani and he is very, very good at keeping that goal. He is like a lion!’ He paused, as if savouring the image. ‘Yes, he is like a lion watching over the entrance to his cave.’

Like a lion, thought Mma Ramotswe. At the back of her mind there was a rather sinister story that she had heard somewhere – one of those traditional stories that grandmothers used to tell their grandchildren – about a girl who married a lion. What exactly had happened? The girl’s brothers had suspected that the man who had married their sister was really a lion, and they had devised a test to see if this was true. They had been right, of course, and they had seen off their false brother-inlaw, who had left lion paw marks in the sand as he ran away. Now here was this goalkeeper, James Pikani, who might really be a lion in disguise …

Mma Ramotswe picked up her teacup and sipped at the hot red liquid. Red-bush tea was not to everybody’s liking, but it certainly was to hers, and from the way Mr Gefeli now drank his – in deep, thirsty gulps – it appeared that he approved of it too. Mma Ramotswe signalled to Mma Makutsi to refill their visitor’s cup.