Blue Shoes and Happiness by Alexander McCall Smith

addition to the staff of Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors, was left in charge of the routine work of the garage. He had been recruited after Mma Ramotswe’s van had knocked him off his bicycle and she had arranged for it to be fixed by Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. It was after this that he had revealed what had happened to him, how he had been sent to prison for negligence after the wrong drug had been dispensed from the hospital pharmacy in which he worked. It had not been his fault, but lies had been told by another, and the magistrate had felt that a conviction and prison sentence were necessary to satisfy the outrage of the patient’s family. Mma Ramotswe had been moved by the story and by his plight, and had arranged work for him in the garage. It had been a good choice: Mr Polopetsi was a methodical worker who had rapidly learned how to service a car and carry out the more mundane repairs. He was an intelligent man, and discreet too, and Mma Ramotswe foresaw the day when he would be useful in the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. He could never be a partner in the agency, as a ladies’ detective agency could not allow that, but he could certainly perform some of the tasks for which a man would be useful. It would be handy, for instance, to have a man who could go and observe what was going on in a particular bar, if that should be necessary in a case. A lady detective could not very well do that, as she would spend half her time fending off the men who pestered ladies in bars.
    One of the pleasures of having Mr Polopetsi in the garage was that he would often come through to the office to have his tea break with Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi. Mr J.L.B. Matekoni was frequently too busy to take a tea break, and the apprentices liked to have their tea sitting on upturned oil drums and watching girls walk past along the road outside. But Mr Polopetsi would come through with his mug and ask Mma Makutsi if there might be enough tea for him. He would always receive the answer that there certainly would be and that he should take a seat on the client’s chair and they would fill his mug for him. And Mr Polopetsi would always say the same thing in reply, as if it were a mantra: “You are very kind, Mma Makutsi. There are not many ladies as kind as you and Mma Ramotswe. That’s the truth.” He did not seem to notice that he said the same thing every time, and the ladies never pointed out to him that they had heard the remark before. “We say the same things all the time, you know,” Mma Ramotswe had once observed to Mma Makutsi, and Mma Makutsi had replied, “You’re right about that, Mma Ramotswe”—which is something that she always said.
    Mr Polopetsi came into the office that morning wiping his brow from the heat. “I think that it’s tea-time,” he said, placing his mug on the top of the metal filing cabinet. “It’s very hot through there. Do you know why drinking a hot liquid like tea can cool you down, Mma Ramotswe?”
    Mma Ramotswe had, in fact, thought about this but had reached no conclusion. All she knew was that a cup of bush tea always refreshed her in a way in which a glass of cold water would not. “You tell me, Rra,” she said. “And Mma Makutsi will turn on the kettle at the same time.”
    â€œIt’s because hot liquids make you sweat,” explained Mr Polopetsi. “Then as the sweat dries off the skin it gives a feeling of coolness. That is how it works.”
    Mma Makutsi flicked the switch of the kettle. “Very unlikely,” she said curtly.
    Mr Polopetsi turned to her indignantly. “But it’s true,” he said. “I learned that on my pharmacy course at the hospital. Dr Moffat gave us lectures on how the body works.”
    This did not impress Mma Makutsi. “I don’t sweat when I drink tea,” she said. “But it still cools me off.”
    â€œWell, you don’t have to believe me if you