Mma Makutsi was slightly concerned over this. She was not sure that it was a good idea to get a friend to design one’s house, even if that friend happened to be a draughtsman. There were many technical issues, were there not? Did you not need to take into account the weight of the roof and the size of the doors? And had there not been a house up in Francistown that had collapsed because these things had been ignored and the walls built far too thin? There had been a picture of it in the paper, she recalled. A woman had been captured standing outside what looked like a pile of rubble, and above it the paper had printed, Poor lady sees her house fall down. Mma Makutsi had been struck by the poignancy of this photograph; it must be devastating, she felt, to see one’s house collapse. Presumably everything inside was covered by tumbled bricks and pieces of shattered timber: all the poor lady’s pots and pans, all her clothing, all her shoes …

She did not feel that she could argue with Phuti. It was his money, after all, even if their wedding vows had made reference to sharing everything, and she had to accept that he knew all about how to deal with builders and suppliers and the like. If he decided that his draughtsman friend should design the house, then she would not question his judgement, no matter what private reservations she might harbour. And this view, she thought, would be approved of by Mma Ramotswe herself, who had once remarked to her, “Men are very sensitive, Mma Makutsi. You would not always think it to look at them, but they are. They do not like you to point out that they are wrong, even when they are. That is the way things are, Mma—it just is.”

Now Mma Makutsi was gazing at the plot with Phuti Radiphuti beside her, waiting for the arrival of their builder who was coming to discuss the project.

“It is ours now,” said Phuti. “Look at it. That is where our house will be, and over there will be your vegetable garden—if you want one, that is. You do not have to have a vegetable garden if you do not want to have it.” He looked at her anxiously, almost as if he were concerned that he might be taken to be the sort to impose vegetable gardens on people.

“I will be very happy to have a vegetable garden,” she said. “We will start it as soon as the house is built.”

“Oh, I am so excited,” said Phuti. “I have never built a house before.”

Mma Makutsi tried not to look concerned. “I don’t think you will find it hard,” she said.