When Mma Soleti began to protest, Mma Ramotswe quietened her. ‘No, Mma, you must think too. That is all I’m saying.’

Mma Soleti took a deep breath. ‘All right, Mma, I’ll think.’

‘Good,’ said Mma Ramotswe. ‘Thinking is a good thing.’ She smiled. ‘Not always, but certainly most of the time.’

At lunchtime Mma Ramotswe drove Mma Makutsi and Itumelang Clovis Radiphuti back to the Radiphuti house as Phuti was delayed in a business meeting and could not collect them. Mma Makutsi, her face glowing from the creams that Mma Soleti had applied, invited Mma Ramotswe to return later on, after work, to share a cup of tea with her.

‘I have some new chairs, Mma,’ she said. ‘And I would like you to see them.’

So Mma Ramotswe returned shortly after five that evening. They sat together on the veranda, watching the sun sink beneath the canopy of acacia that made the horizon. The sun was copper-red, a great ball, and it floated down so gently, as if to nudge us into night, to let us take the garments of the dark about us slowly and deliberately, without haste and without fear.

Mma Ramotswe reflected on the events of the last few days. Matters that she had thought would not be easily settled had been resolved in ways that were quite unexpected.

‘Isn’t it odd,’ she said to Mma Makutsi, ‘how things work out in ways that you would never expect?’

‘It is very odd,’ said Mma Makutsi. ‘Or maybe not. If it always happens, then maybe it isn’t odd.’

‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Mma Ramotswe. ‘Perhaps we should learn to expect the unexpected.’

‘Then it would not be unexpected, Mma,’ pointed out Mma Makutsi.

‘No, you’re right.’

Mma Ramotswe leaned back in her chair. The new chairs were very comfortable, but that was to be expected, surely, in the household of the man who owned the Double Comfort Furniture Store.

‘I’m very grateful to you, Mma Makutsi,’ she said. ‘I think I may already have told you that I’m very grateful to you for coming back to work.’

‘You have told me before, Mma,’ said Mma Makutsi. ‘But it does not matter if one says something more than once – if it is a good thing to begin with.’

Mma Ramotswe studied the glow in the sky where the sun had been. The glow left by the sun is like a good act done, she thought; or like love, which left the same warm signature behind it.

‘Mma Makutsi,’ she said. ‘I have been thinking.’

‘About what, Mma?’

‘I have been thinking about this little business of ours.’

Ours, thought Mma Makutsi. Ours.

‘And what I have decided,’ Mma Ramotswe continued, ‘is that you should be a partner in this business. Not an associate but a partner, sharing the profit, which may be nothing at the moment and may never be more than nothing, but may be more one day – who knows?’