Read Online In the Company of Cheerful Ladies by Alexander McCall Smith - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexander McCall Smith
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery Fiction, Political, Women Private Investigators, Botswana, No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (Imaginary organization), Ramotswe; Precious (Fictitious character), Women private investigators - Botswana
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have sent a man to prison unless he deserved punishment?
Mma Makutsi was anxious about being late for the typing class she was due to give at seven oclock, and so they did not linger on their way back, although they did go slightly out of their way in order to drive past Mr J.L.B. Matekonis houseor, rather, the house which belonged to Mr J.L.B. Matekoni but which was now occupied by a tenant. The silver Mercedes-Benz was still there.
Does she live in that house? asked Mma Makutsi. Did Mr
J.L.B. Matekoni let the house to a woman?
No, said Mma Ramotswe. He let it outwithout first asking
me, mind youto a man whose car he used to fix. He does not know him very well, but he said that he always used to pay his bills.
It is very strange, said Mma Makutsi. We will have to find out more about this.
We certainly shall, agreed Mma Ramotswe. There are many mysteries developing in our lives, Mma Makutsi, what with these rich ladies in silver cars, bicycles, pumpkins, and all the rest, and we shall have to sort them all out.
Mma Makutsi looked puzzled. Pumpkins? she asked.
Yes, said Mma Ramotswe. There is a pumpkin mystery, but we do not have time to talk about it now. I shall tell you about it some other time.
THAT EVENING Mma Makutsi could not get pumpkins out of her mind, and it was one of the words which she got the typing class to type. She held these classes several times a week in a
5 4
church hall that she rented for the purpose. The Kalahari Typing School for Men, which admitted only men, was based on the supposition that men usually cannot type very well but are afraid to admit this fact. And while it would be perfectly possible for them to register for any of the part-time courses provided by the Botswana Secretarial College, they tended not to do this for reasons
of shame. Men would not wish to be outstripped by women in typing, which would be sure to happen. So Mma Makutsis discreet
classes had proved very popular.
She stood now before a class of fifteen men, all eager students
of the art of typing, and all making good progress, although at different rates. This class had worked on finger position, had worked its way through the simple words which start every typing career (hat, cat, rat, and the like), and was now ready for more advanced tasks.
Pumpkin, Mma Makutsi called out, and the keys immediately
began to clatter. But she had something to add: Do not leave out the p. That is very important.
A number of the keys stopped, and then started afresh, on a new line.
CHAPTER SIX
FURTHER DETAILS
MMA RAMOTSWE had intended to ask Mr J.L.B. Matekoni about his new tenant that evening, but it was busy at home, with the children making demands to be taken here and there and Rose staying late to talk to her about her sick child. So by the time that nine oclock arrived, and the pots and pans had been washed in the kitchen, and sandwiches made and wrapped up for the children to take to school the next day, Mma Ramotswe was too tired to start a new conversation, particularly one which might prove awkward for Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. So they both retired to bed, where she read a magazine for a few minutes before drowsiness forced her to abandon her reading and she switched off the light.
So it was not until the next morning when Mr J.L.B. Matekoni came into the office for his mid-morning cup of tea, that she was able to raise the subject of what she and Mma Makutsi had seen the previous evening. She had told him about the accident, of course, and he had told the apprentices to fix the bicycle that morning.
Mma Ramotswe had expressed doubts about their abilities to fix it properly. They are very rough with machinery, she said.
5 6
Youve told me that yourself. And weve all seen it. I dont want them to make that poor mans bicycle worse.
It is only a bicycle, said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni, reassuringly. Its not a Mercedes-Benz.
Now the
Mma Makutsi was anxious about being late for the typing class she was due to give at seven oclock, and so they did not linger on their way back, although they did go slightly out of their way in order to drive past Mr J.L.B. Matekonis houseor, rather, the house which belonged to Mr J.L.B. Matekoni but which was now occupied by a tenant. The silver Mercedes-Benz was still there.
Does she live in that house? asked Mma Makutsi. Did Mr
J.L.B. Matekoni let the house to a woman?
No, said Mma Ramotswe. He let it outwithout first asking
me, mind youto a man whose car he used to fix. He does not know him very well, but he said that he always used to pay his bills.
It is very strange, said Mma Makutsi. We will have to find out more about this.
We certainly shall, agreed Mma Ramotswe. There are many mysteries developing in our lives, Mma Makutsi, what with these rich ladies in silver cars, bicycles, pumpkins, and all the rest, and we shall have to sort them all out.
Mma Makutsi looked puzzled. Pumpkins? she asked.
Yes, said Mma Ramotswe. There is a pumpkin mystery, but we do not have time to talk about it now. I shall tell you about it some other time.
THAT EVENING Mma Makutsi could not get pumpkins out of her mind, and it was one of the words which she got the typing class to type. She held these classes several times a week in a
5 4
church hall that she rented for the purpose. The Kalahari Typing School for Men, which admitted only men, was based on the supposition that men usually cannot type very well but are afraid to admit this fact. And while it would be perfectly possible for them to register for any of the part-time courses provided by the Botswana Secretarial College, they tended not to do this for reasons
of shame. Men would not wish to be outstripped by women in typing, which would be sure to happen. So Mma Makutsis discreet
classes had proved very popular.
She stood now before a class of fifteen men, all eager students
of the art of typing, and all making good progress, although at different rates. This class had worked on finger position, had worked its way through the simple words which start every typing career (hat, cat, rat, and the like), and was now ready for more advanced tasks.
Pumpkin, Mma Makutsi called out, and the keys immediately
began to clatter. But she had something to add: Do not leave out the p. That is very important.
A number of the keys stopped, and then started afresh, on a new line.
CHAPTER SIX
FURTHER DETAILS
MMA RAMOTSWE had intended to ask Mr J.L.B. Matekoni about his new tenant that evening, but it was busy at home, with the children making demands to be taken here and there and Rose staying late to talk to her about her sick child. So by the time that nine oclock arrived, and the pots and pans had been washed in the kitchen, and sandwiches made and wrapped up for the children to take to school the next day, Mma Ramotswe was too tired to start a new conversation, particularly one which might prove awkward for Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. So they both retired to bed, where she read a magazine for a few minutes before drowsiness forced her to abandon her reading and she switched off the light.
So it was not until the next morning when Mr J.L.B. Matekoni came into the office for his mid-morning cup of tea, that she was able to raise the subject of what she and Mma Makutsi had seen the previous evening. She had told him about the accident, of course, and he had told the apprentices to fix the bicycle that morning.
Mma Ramotswe had expressed doubts about their abilities to fix it properly. They are very rough with machinery, she said.
5 6
Youve told me that yourself. And weve all seen it. I dont want them to make that poor mans bicycle worse.
It is only a bicycle, said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni, reassuringly. Its not a Mercedes-Benz.
Now the
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