They never accept that they may be remembering things incorrectly.” She looked at Mma Ramotswe reproachfully, as if the other woman were widely known to be one of the very worst offenders in this respect. “People who trust one another do not need to put things in writing,” Mma Ramotswe had once said. “You could take a break from being treasurer and ... ” She turned round from the stove to look directly at her husband. It is all about our ancestors up in East Africa. But even if that driver was a lawyer, and even if he was running late, it would not excuse passing on the wrong side, which put the lives of others in danger. “That van, Mma Ramotswe, was a ghost van. Even as I crack open each book, I am sad because I know that all too soon, the story will be over. BBC Afternoon Drama: The No. That shows you what men think about—or at least, young men. Sort order. We have lost so much, she thought. He sat in his chair, looking up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. Some people said that the air in the morning had no smell; she thought they were wrong, for it smelled of so many things—of the acacia leaves that had been closed for the night and were now opening at the first touch of the morning sun; of a wood fire somewhere, just a hint of it; of the wind, and the breath that the wind had, which was dry and sweet, like the breath of cattle. He must be rushing off to see a lady. “And, Mma, she will be a ghost in high-heeled shoes! But if Mma Ramotswe was reluctant to probe Phuti’s dreams too closely, the same was not true of her assistant. Mma Makutsi had been meant to be in the office throughout the previous day, in case a client should call. But anyway, I don’t think we shall ever get a visit from the President.”The mention of camouflage made her think. Yes, she thought, one can say that sort of thing in broad daylight, under this wide and sunlit Botswana sky, but would one say the same thing with equal conviction at night, when one was out in the bush, perhaps, away from the streetlights of town, and surrounded by the sounds of the night—sounds that could not be easily explained away and could be anything, things known or unknown, things friendly or unfriendly, things that it was better not to think about? “About two or three minutes ago. During Mr J. L. B. Matekoni’s illness they had moved the No. Two people got out—two clients, not one: as in the business plan. “A mechanic, Mma,” he pronounced, “is different from a miracle-worker. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, Professor Dr. The driver had got out of the red car and was standing beside Mma Mateleke’s window, looking for all the world as if he had stopped to chat with an old friend encountered along the road. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series. “It is a very encouraging look,” she said. Who would look after the agency?” Mr J. L. B. Matekoni did not hesitate. Now, however, he had become more wakeful, and consequently more demanding, and this meant that he was left at home with the woman from Bobonong who had been employed as a nursemaid. Matekoni laughed. Within a very short space of time she had seen an instance of bare-faced theft, had encountered a waitress who thought nothing of extorting money, and then, to bring the whole matter to a shameful conclusion, the woman at the next table had disclosed a thoroughly dishonest view of the world. There are some very bad drivers around. Even those who saw such a ghost would not be frightened but would burst out laughing. Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It helped me figure out which ones I have already read, as well as including 4 additional titles I hadn’t come across previously. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Story, Untitled 'seasonal story about the No 1 Ladies Det…, Readers will agree that this touching and dramatic…, At a remote cattle post south of Gaborone two cows…, An exclusive short story from The No. And when Mma Makutsi’s unsuspecting fiancé Phuti Radphuti hires her longtime nemesis, the very glamorous Violet Sephotho, to assist in his store,  it becomes clear that some men do not know how to recognise a ruthless jezebel—even when she is bouncing up and down on the best bed in the Double Comfort Furniture Shop. Meanwhile, her able assistant, Mma Makutsi, has decided to establish a typing school for men.

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