“But it was not your fault, Rra,” said Phuti reassuringly. “You just did your job. It is that Mr. Putumelo.” He turned to Grace. “We will have to do something.”

“Yes,” she said. “We’ll have to do something.” She had no idea, though, of what to do. Perhaps Mma Ramotswe might suggest something.

But it was Thomas who made the suggestion. “I think that it would be best not to do anything just yet,” he said. “If you went to the police, you would not have any real proof, and even if they charged him, then what would happen to all of us—the men who work for him? Let us finish your house. If you have a row with him now, then he will pull all the men off the site and you will have a house with no roof.”

“That would not be good,” said Mma Makutsi.

Thomas smiled. It was the first time they had seen him do this. “No. You need a roof.”

“And then?”

“You will have a final bill to pay at the end. Cut it in half and say that this is for the bricks that he borrowed from you. Tell him that you can easily see how he forgot to take that into account with the bill, and so you have corrected the error. Tell him that you have seen the bricks in his new house—you were just passing by—and you realised that this had happened when you saw your initials on one of them. Say that you had put the initials there when you had called in at his yard and he was not there. Tell him that you were keen that the bricks should not be stolen by some passer-by. Tell him where to look for the bricks with the initials.”

Phuti listened to this gravely. “I think I shall do all that, Rra,” he said. “You know, I’m remembering something. When we first agreed to do this job, he said that my house had his name written all over it. Well …”

“His house has your name written all over it,” said Grace.

The builder reflected on this for a few moments. “That is true,” he said.

They walked back to the car. “I’m very grateful to you, Thomas,” said Phuti. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I did,” said Thomas. “I did have to do it, Rra.”

Phuti looked thoughtful. “You’re a carpenter, aren’t you?”

“That, and other things,” said Thomas. “But that is my first trade.”

Phuti looked at Mma Makutsi, who was watching him with interest. “We have a small workshop,” he said slowly. “We have it for repairs and for some contract work. We have been able to get work permits for one or two men we take on because we make quite a lot of furniture for schools. Desks and things like that. We could get you one if you came to work for us.”