Mma Ramotswe knew the custom to which the aunt was referring – and yes, that was the way it once was. The mother and baby would be secluded with female relatives until it was thought safe to let the baby out into the world. But things were changing and fewer and fewer people followed that custom these days. Babies might be kept inside for a matter of days, but it would be rare for them to be kept out of sight for months, as happened in the past.

‘Simply tell her that this is not possible,’ advised Mma Ramotswe. ‘Tell her that you are not going to observe the old custom. Tell her that you and Grace are a modern couple and you are going to take the baby straight home – to your home – and that he will be taken out of the house whenever you want to do so.’

Phuti shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘It is not always easy to tell my aunt things,’ he said. ‘She believes that she knows everything already. She does not think there is anybody who can tell her anything.’

‘You didn’t agree, did you?’

Phuti’s discomfort appeared to grow. ‘Not in those actual words. I did not say yes, but…’

There were many different ways of saying yes and no, thought Mma Ramotswe.

‘I see,’ she said. ‘So the baby is going to the aunt’s place?’

‘Only for a very short time,’ said Phuti.

‘And has Mma Makutsi agreed?’ asked Mma Ramotswe.

‘At first she did not say anything – I think that she felt too tired or too weak. But then she said that it would be all right if that was what I wanted.’

‘You should have told her that it was not what you wanted,’ said Mma Ramotswe.

‘It is difficult to tell her something like that,’ said Phuti.

She did not want to detract from his pleasure, and so she said nothing more on the subject. Instead, she asked about a name – had they decided?

‘We discussed it,’ said Phuti. ‘We discussed it many times before the baby arrived.’

‘It is not always easy to choose a child’s name,’ agreed Mma Ramotswe. ‘I sometimes think that we have too many names in Botswana, with people inventing all these names all the time. In other places you do not have so much choice – you only have to pick from a very small list.’

‘But that makes it better for us,’ argued Phuti. ‘If you have a name that nobody else has, then you feel more special. You know that there is only one of you.’ He hesitated. ‘There is no other Phuti Radiphuti in the whole world, I think.’

‘Nor Precious Ramotswe,’ ventured Mma Ramotswe, adding: ‘As far as I know.’

‘We are very fortunate,’ said Phuti.

‘And your son?’ asked Mma Ramotswe.

Phuti Radiphuti looked down at the floor. ‘We were wondering about Clovis,’ he said hesitantly. ‘Clovis Radiphuti.’