A voice came from behind them. The aunt had entered the room and was standing in the doorway. ‘It is not good for babies to be seen by too many people,’ she said, shaking her head in disapproval. ‘You should know that.’

Mma Ramotswe turned to face the aunt. ‘I’m not going to touch him, Mma. Only look.’

The aunt shook her head again. ‘There are traditions,’ she said. ‘You people may have forgotten them, but I haven’t.’

Phuti Radiphuti had been silent, but now he spoke. ‘We all know about those, Auntie. But these days —’

‘These days makes no difference,’ the aunt spat out. ‘These days, these days. That is all that people say when they don’t want to follow tradition. And then…’ She made a gesture to suggest the collapse of everything.

‘I am the mother,’ said Mma Makutsi. ‘I am the one who must decide.’

‘Yes,’ said Phuti Radiphuti. ‘Grace is the…’ He was silenced by a look from the aunt.

The aunt addressed herself to her nephew. ‘It is not men’s business, Phuti. This is women’s business and men should not put their noses into it.’

Mma Ramotswe looked anxiously at Mma Makutsi. She did not think it a good thing for somebody who had just given birth to be subjected to strain.

‘I think that I can see the baby a little bit later,’ she said. ‘This is not the time. Now is the time for me to talk to Mma Makutsi.’ She looked first at Phuti Radiphuti and then at the aunt. ‘And I think we should talk in private. These are business matters, you see.’

Phuti Radiphuti crossed the room to stand by his aunt. ‘You’re quite right, Mma Ramotswe,’ he said. ‘Auntie and I will go and sit on the veranda – it’s cooler there.’

‘Well!’ said Mma Ramotswe. And then, because she could not think of anything else that would adequately express her feelings, she said again, ‘Well!’

Mma Makutsi rolled her eyes. ‘She is the senior aunt, as you know. I have no family down here – all my people are up in Bobonong.’

Mma Ramotswe sighed. She understood the system and the perfectly legitimate claims that Phuti’s aunt had as the senior female relative. ‘I know, Mma,’ she said. ‘But it can’t be easy for you. Is she taking the traditional view?’

Mma Makutsi explained that Phuti Radiphuti’s aunt was extremely traditional. ‘She said that the baby should be kept inside for three months, Mma. She also wanted to rub ash into his skin – you’ll remember how they used to do that in the villages. But I said that nobody was going to put anything on my baby except Vaseline.’