Mma Makutsi, who had risen to her feet as the two men left, was reaching down for her bag. She straightened up and hesitated for a few moments before she spoke. It seemed as if she was looking for exactly the right words. “I am aware of that, Mma,” she said slowly. “I know that. And I am the one who has been rude. But I have made up my mind. I have decided that I am fed up with being number two. I have always been number two, all through my life. I have always been the junior one. Now I am going to be my own boss.” She paused. “It’s not that you are a bad boss. You are a very good one. You are kind. You do not tell me what to do all the time. But I want to be able to speak as I wish. I have never been able to do that—ever. All my life, up in Bobonong, down here, I have been the one who has to watch my tongue and be careful. Now I do not want that any more. Can you understand that, Mma?”

Mma Ramotswe did. “I can see that. You are a very intelligent woman. You have a piece of paper to prove it.” She pointed to the framed diploma above Mma Makutsi’s desk; the words ninety-seven per cent clearly legible even from afar. “Don’t forget to take that, Mma,” she said.

Mma Makutsi looked up at the diploma. “You could easily have got one of those yourself, Mma,” she said.

“But I didn’t,” said Mma Ramotswe. “You did.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Do you want me to stay?” asked Mma Makutsi. There was an edge of uncertainty in her voice now.

Mma Ramotswe opened her hands in a gesture of acceptance. “I don’t think that you should, Mma,” she said. “You need a change. I would love you to stay, but I think that you have decided, haven’t you, that you need a change.”

“Maybe,” said Mma Makutsi.

“But you will come back and see me, won’t you?”

“Of course,” said Mma Makutsi. “And you will come to my wedding, won’t you? You and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni? There will be a seat for you in the front row, Mma Ramotswe. With the aunties.”

There was nothing more to do other than to retrieve the framed diploma from its place on the wall. When it was taken down, there was a white patch where it had been hanging, and they both saw this. Mma Makutsi had been there that long; right from the beginning, really, those humble days in the original office, when chickens came in, uninvited, and pecked at the floor around the desks.