The two men tugged at the last remaining shreds of plastic. The large velvet heart was now revealed, although it was not yet in position, but was tied to the base of the bed. With a deft movement, the men detached it and stacked it next to the base of the bed.

“There is a bed in there already,” said Mma Makutsi. “I wondered if you could move it for me?”

The men glanced at one another. “There is always another bed,” the driver’s assistant said.

The driver frowned. “We can help you, Mma. Don’t worry.”

They went inside and Mma Makutsi showed them her bed. With the sheets and blankets taken off, it was a sad, dejected thing. The men, though, were businesslike; there was no time for emotion in the bed-moving business. It took them no more than a few minutes to unscrew the legs and manhandle the base out into the back yard. Then, dusting their hands, they returned to the new bed and began to carry it towards the door. Mma Makutsi watched in pride and pleasure. She would have to get new sheets, she decided, to do justice to this luxurious acquisition.

“This bed won’t go through the door,” the driver said. “Look, Mma. It is too big.”

Mma Makutsi gave a start. “But it must fit, Rra,” she said. “They wouldn’t make a bed that won’t fit.”

The driver laughed. “Don’t be too sure of that, Mma,” he said. “I have seen many people buy furniture that is too big for their houses. We see that all the time, don’t we?”

His assistant nodded. “Remember those chairs, Boss? Remember those people who lived in that very small house and they bought those great big chairs?”

The driver laughed again. “They were small people too,” he said. “I can never understand why small people think they need big furniture.”

Mma Makutsi stepped forward to examine the bed. It stood, sideways on, against the door and was clearly a foot or so too large to fit in.

“The only way would be to take the roof off,” said the driver. “I have seen that done before.”

“I cannot take the roof off,” snapped Mma Makutsi. “I am only a tenant here. I cannot take the roof off.”

The driver shrugged. “It is too late to take this bed back,” he said. “We are under strict instructions: never bring anything back. I’m sorry about that, Mma.”

“Then please move the bed to the side there,” said Mma Makutsi. “I will speak to my fiancé about it.”

They moved the new bed to the side of the house and put the old bed back. Then they began to take their leave. “I’m sorry,” said the driver. “It is a fine bed, but…” He made a gesture with his hands, a gesture that was somewhere between a denial of further responsibility and an indication of sympathy.