Mma Ramotswe shook her head. ‘I would like to go some day, but I only really know Botswana, I’m afraid.’

It seemed that Mma Molapo was pleased to hear this answer. ‘It is a much smaller country, Mma, and much greener too.’

‘I have heard that they have forests,’ said Mma Ramotswe. She directed the comment to Liso, but again it was intercepted by Mma Molapo.

‘There are many forests,’ said Mma Molapo.

‘And rivers,’ said Mma Ramotswe. She turned to Liso. ‘Liso, there are some good rivers in Swaziland, aren’t there? Always full of water. Do you like that one, the river that…’

She was interrupted by Mma Molapo. ‘The Umbeluzi,’ she said. ‘That is the one you like, isn’t it, Liso?’

The young man nodded. He had been looking at Mma Molapo, but now he turned to Mma Ramotswe and beamed at her. ‘There are crocodiles in the Umbeluzi, Mma. I used to walk beside it when I was a little boy and my father used to say, “You be careful of old croc! Old croc would like you for his dinner!”’

‘I do not like crocodiles much,’ said Mma Ramotswe.

‘Nobody likes crocodiles,’ said Mma Molapo.

This brought a chuckle from Mma Ramotswe. ‘Except their mothers, perhaps.’

This remark seemed to have a strange effect. Liso looked at Mma Molapo, who pursed her lips together discouragingly. Mma Ramotswe was puzzled. Why, she wondered, should a remark about nobody liking crocodiles produce this reaction?

Mma Molapo changed the subject. ‘When Liso is the owner of this farm,’ she said, ‘he is going to get the fences fixed. I’m afraid that my late brother allowed them to deteriorate and now they are in a very bad state in some places.’

Liso greeted this comment enthusiastically. ‘I can do a lot of it myself,’ he said. ‘I have helped to mend the fences here before.’

Mma Ramotswe was watching him. ‘When was that, Liso?’ she asked.

He frowned. ‘Last time.’

‘Last year?’

Mma Molapo looked at her watch. ‘My goodness,’ she said hurriedly. ‘It gets late so quickly.’

Mma Ramotswe decided to ignore the intervention. ‘You helped your uncle last year?’

Liso looked away briefly, but then turned to smile at Mma Ramotswe. ‘Yes, Mma.’

‘But your uncle was very ill then, wasn’t he? Was he strong enough to work?’

Mma Molapo rose to her feet. ‘My poor brother was ill but he was able to walk until the very last day of his life. Now, Mma Ramotswe, I must go and do some work. You must excuse me.’

Mma Ramotswe replied quickly, ‘That is quite all right, Mma. You do your work and Liso can show me the outbuildings. We have to make sure that everything is correct on the inventory, you see. You can do that, can’t you, Liso?’