Mma Ramotswe wondered where Itumelang would be put. Mma Makutsi had mentioned a portable crib that could be brought in and set up near her desk. It was a good spot, as the light from the window was blocked by Mma Makutsi’s own desk and so the baby would not get too hot. Of course, one of the drawers in the filing cabinet could be cleared out and he could be placed there on folded blankets… It would be entirely appropriate if such a devotee of filing as Mma Makutsi were to place her baby there, under BABIES perhaps, or some other suitable category. She smiled. It was an absurd thought, but one never knew with Mma Makutsi, and stranger things had happened.

Determined not to return to the office, she was briefly tempted to drive over to see Mma Potokwani. She had not seen the matron for some time, and it would be pleasant to spend half an hour or so with her over a cup of tea and a slice of fruitcake. But then she remembered that she had to call in at the bank to deposit a cheque. She was not far from the Riverwalk now, where there was a branch of the bank, and she could go there before heading home and indulging in the luxury of a rest. The children would not be home until shortly after four and the house would be quiet. There were three or four magazines that had been passed on to her by her friend Mma Moffat, and she could page through these while lying on her bed, until sleep caught up with her and the magazines fell from her hand. It was exactly the sort of afternoon to which she liked to treat herself, and this was a perfect day for it. After her rest she could spend some time working in the garden now that the ground had been refreshed by the rain and was soft and receptive.

She parked the tiny white van at Riverwalk. A shopping cart had been left in a parking place, where an unwary driver might easily reverse into it. She started to wheel this cart out of harm’s way, but what she saw lying on the bottom of the cart made her stop: there were several leaflets, the usual bright detritus – money-off coupons, a loud listing of cut-price tinned foods – and, strangely, what looked like a homemade notice with Be Warned! printed across the top in large letters.