Again Mma Makutsi had to struggle to control herself. She had not asked for any discussion, and it was Charlie who had caused the delay. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Thank you, Charlie,” she said. “You are very kind.” It was what Mma Ramotswe would probably have said, and she wondered, for a moment, if she was suddenly acquiring Mma Ramotswe’s patience. But no, she decided, she would never be as understanding as her employer, especially when it came to Charlie, who would try the patience of a saint, even if not that of Mma Ramotswe.

They ran out, ignoring the rain, and set off in Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni’s towing truck. “I’m sorry about your bed,” Charlie said. “I would not like you to think that I was not sorry for you, Mma.”

Mma Makutsi inclined her head. “Thank you. I feel very silly about it. I did not think it would rain today. I was not thinking.”

“Nobody knew that there would be rain,” said Charlie. “Everybody thought that it would go on being dry.”

“And we should never complain about rain,” said Mma Makutsi. “It would be a very dangerous thing for a Motswana to complain about rain.”

Charlie agreed; that would be unheard of. “This is very good rain,” he said, negotiating a small lake of floodwater that had built up beside the road.

Mma Makutsi said nothing. She was thinking of what she would find at the end of the journey, which she was sure would be a sodden mess. Oh, if only she had thought! Who would leave a bed, of all things, outside, exposed to the elements? Well, the answer to that was she would, as she had just done.

She directed Charlie down the narrow road that led to her house. Any hopes she might have cherished that the rain in this part of town might have been gentler were dashed by the sight of the large puddles of mud-brown water beside the road and, on occasion, on it. Although the rain itself was now easing off, there was no doubt that there had been as much of a downpour here as anywhere else; perhaps more.

“That is my house,” she said in a subdued tone, pointing it out to Charlie.

“It is a nice place, Mma,” said Charlie. “I wouldn’t mind living in a place like that. At the moment I’m staying…” He tailed off. They had both seen the bed at the same time, and were now staring at the drooping, sodden item propped up against the side of the house.

Mma Makutsi groaned. “It is ruined,” she said. “It is completely ruined.”

There was no sign of Charlie’s jaunty cheekiness as they alighted from the truck and walked up the small path that led to Mma Makutsi’s house.