And yet, in spite of all these rather unsettling developments, there were some things that did not change. Mr J. L. B. Matekoni had not changed in the slightest – and never would, she thought. Charlie did not change either; one might have thought that he would become more mature as the years went past, but this was not the case. At the age of sixteen, when he had first started his apprenticeship, he had spent his lunch hours sitting on an upturned oil drum, ogling girls as they walked past to catch one of the minibuses plying their trade along the Tlokweng Road. Now, at the age of twenty-whatever-it-was, he still sat on an oil drum – she believed it was exactly the same oil drum – and watched young women walk past.

Of course, she thought that Charlie might try to justify this if she were to reproach him, and to argue that there was nothing wrong in spending his time in this way. She could just imagine the conversation…

‘So, Mma? What’s wrong with taking a rest over the lunch hour? I work hard all morning and then I sit and recover my energy. What’s wrong with that?’

‘Nothing,’ she would say. ‘There is nothing wrong with taking a break. But what’s the point of watching girls for hour after hour?’

He would defend himself: ‘But, Mma, I didn’t ask them to walk along the Tlokweng Road. I didn’t ask them to wear those dresses and walk like that. They are the ones you should be criticising, Mma, not me.’

It would be hopeless, and even if she turned her attention to the drum, and suggested that he sit somewhere else for a change, she would get nowhere.

‘But, Mma, why change your drum if you find one that’s comfortable? Why not stick to the one you like?’

No, in a world of flux and rearrangement, both Charlie and Mr J. L. B. Matekoni were as fixed in their positions as the stars in the night sky. And the same might have been said of Mma Makutsi… But now there was an air of uncertainty surrounding Mma Makutsi and her plans, and Mma Ramotswe was unsure how to resolve it. The problem was that Mma Makutsi was pregnant, but seemed to be quite unwilling to talk about the implications of this for the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. Naturally Mma Ramotswe was pleased that her assistant was expecting a baby, but how much greater would this pleasure have been if she had plans in place for the inevitable maternity leave. But no such plans had been mentioned – not one.