Charlie, from the other side of the garage, where he was about to raise a car on the hydraulic ramp, glanced at Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni and said to the younger apprentice standing beside him, “I hope that the Boss doesn’t think that she’s gone because of me. I hope he doesn’t think that.”

The younger apprentice wiped his nose on the sleeve of his blue overalls. “Why would he think that, Charlie? What’s it got to do with you? You know what that woman’s like. Nag, nag, nag. I bet that the Boss is relieved that she’s gone.”

Charlie thought about this possibility for a moment, and then dismissed it. “He likes her. Mma Ramotswe likes her too. Maybe even you like her.” He looked at the younger man and frowned. “Do you? Do you like her?”

The younger apprentice shifted his feet. “I don’t like her glasses,” he said. “Where do you think she got those great big glasses?”

“An industrial catalogue,” said Charlie.

The younger apprentice laughed. “And those stupid shoes of hers. She thinks she looks good in those shoes of hers, but most girls I know wouldn’t be seen dead in them.”

Charlie looked thoughtful. “They take your shoes off when you’re dead, you know.”

The younger apprentice was concerned. “Why?” he asked. “What do they do with them?”

Charlie reached forward and polished the dial of the panel that controlled the hydraulic lift. “The doctors take them,” he explained. “Or the nurses in the hospital. Next time you see a doctor, look at his shoes. They all have very smart shoes. Lots of them. That’s because they get the shoes when…”

He stopped. A blue taxi had drawn up in front of the garage and the passenger door was opening.

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

A SMALL BUSINESSWOMAN

WITH MMA MAKUTSI back in her usual place, the heavy atmosphere that had prevailed that morning lifted. The emotional reunion, as demonstrative and effusive as if Mma Makutsi had been away for months, or even years, had embarrassed the men, who had exchanged glances, and then looked away, as if in guilt at an intrusion into essentially female mysteries. But when the ululating from Mma Ramotswe had died down and the tea had been made, everything returned to normal.

“Why did she bother to leave if she was going to be away five minutes?” asked the younger apprentice.

“It’s because she doesn’t think like anybody else,” said Charlie. “She thinks backwards.”