Chapters (25)
- Cover Page
- TITLE PAGE
- DEDICATION
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- BOOKS BY ALEXANDER MC CALL SMITH
- COPYRIGHT
Mma Ramotswe decided that it was time to get the conversation off politics. “So the hospital wants me to do something,” she said. “I am happy to help. But you must tell me what the problem is.”
“That’s what doctors say,” offered Mma Makutsi from the other side of the office. “They say, What seems to be the problem? when you go to see them. And then they say…”
“Thank you very much, Mma,” said Mma Ramotswe firmly. “No, Rra, what is this problem that the hospital has?”
Tati Monyena sighed. “I wish we had only one problem,” he began. “In fact, we have many problems. All hospitals have problems. Not enough funds. Not enough nurses. Infection control. It would be a very big list if I were to tell you about all our problems. But there is one problem in particular that we decided I needed to ask you about. One very big problem.”
“Which is?”
“People have died in the hospital,” he said.
Mma Ramotswe caught Mma Makutsi’s eye. She did not want any further remarks from that quarter, and she gave her assistant a severe look. She could imagine what Mma Makutsi might have said to that: that people were always dying in hospitals, and that it was surely no cause for complaint if this happened from time to time. Hospitals were full of sick people, and sick people died if the treatment did not work.
“I am sorry,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I can imagine that the hospital does not like its patients to become late. But, after all, hospitals…”
“Oh, we know that we’re going to lose a certain number of patients,” said Tati Monyena quickly. “You can’t avoid that.”
“So, why would you need my services?” asked Mma Ramotswe.
Tati Monyena hesitated before he replied. “This will go no further?” he asked. His voice was barely above a whisper.
“This is a confidential consultation,” Mma Ramotswe reassured him. “It is just between you and me. Nobody else.”
Tati Monyena looked over his shoulder again. Mma Makutsi was staring at him through her large round glasses and he quickly looked back again.
“My assistant is bound to secrecy too,” said Mma Ramotswe. “We do not talk about our clients’ affairs.”
“Except when…,” began Mma Makutsi, but she was cut off by Mma Ramotswe, who raised her voice.
“Except never,” she said. “Except never.”
Tati Monyena looked uncomfortable at this display of disagreement and hesitated a moment. But then he continued, “People become late in a hospital for all sorts of reasons. You would be surprised, Mma Ramotswe, at how many patients decide that now that they’ve arrived in hospital it’s time to go…” He pointed up at the ceiling. “To go up there. And then there are those who fall out of bed and those who have a bad reaction to some drug and so on. There are many unfortunate things that happen in a hospital.