The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe by Alexander McCall Smith Page B

worked, and Mma Potokwane’s window was flung open and a hand emerged, beckoning her in.
    By the time Mma Ramotswe had reached the verandah of Mma Potokwane’s office, the matron had appeared at the doorway to welcome her. “So, Mma Ramotswe, you always come at a convenient time. As it happens, I have just put on the kettle and I baked a cake this very morning.”
    â€œYou know my weakness,” said Mma Ramotswe. “You know that I cannot resist your fruit cake.”
    â€œAnd your husband is as bad,” said Mma Potokwane with a smile. “Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni will fix anything if you offer him a piece of fruit cake. My husband can no longer be bribed with such offers. I cannot make him do things any more.”
    Mma Ramotswe laughed. “It is a very bad situation when we can no longer get our husbands to do what we want them to do.” She paused, and became serious. “Of course there are also those times when they do something that you don’t want them to do. Those times are also difficult.”
    Mma Potokwane knew immediately that this was what Mma Ramotswe had come to talk about. Her friend did not always visit her for a specific reason, but when she did, it did not take Mma Potokwane long to work out what it was.
    â€œSo,” began Mma Potokwane. She stared at Mma Ramotswe with astute eyes. “So Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni has done something—am I right, Mma?”
    Mma Ramotswe did not beat about the bush. “He’s fired Charlie.”
    This was unexpected news for Mma Potokwane. The two apprentices had been at the garage for so long now that it was difficult to imagine how it would be without them.
    â€œCharlie’s the good-looking one. Isn’t he?” she asked. “The one who’s always getting into trouble.”
    â€œThat’s him,” said Mma Ramotswe. “The other one is Fanwell. He’s completed his apprenticeship exams now and so he’s a sort of assistant mechanic—something like that. Charlie never wrote his exams. He’s still an apprentice—or was, should I say.”
    Mma Potokwane looked thoughtful. “He’s fired him for a good reason, I suppose? These days you can’t get rid of people just like that, you know. There is one of the cooks I’d dearly love to replace—a very lazy woman—but I know that if I tried to do that, there would be letters from lawyers, and a tribunal, and money to pay, and so on. Everybody would say: That Mma Potokwane goes round firing people left, right, and centre. You know how people are, Mma.”
    Mma Ramotswe explained why Charlie had to go. “I don’t think that Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni was looking for an excuse,” she said. “The garage has not been making much money recently and there hasn’t been enough work. I think that this really is the case.”
    Mma Potokwane shook her head sadly. “We had to do the same thing last year,” she said. “We had one too many men working on the farm. We couldn’t sell enough produce to justify his salary. I was very unhappy about it, but we had no choice, I’m afraid.”
    â€œCharlie took it very badly,” said Mma Ramotswe. “He burst into tears and then …”
    â€œYes, Mma?”
    â€œThen he said something about dying.”
    Mma Potokwane sat back in her chair. “Ah,” she said. “They do that.”
    â€œWho does it?”
    â€œTeenagers. They often say things like that.”
    â€œIt made me very anxious,” said Mma Ramotswe.
    â€œBut they rarely do anything about it,” went on Mma Potokwane.
    â€œCharlie isn’t really a teenager,” pointed out Mma Ramotswe.
    â€œNot technically, Mma, but men can be teenagers until well into their twenties. I have read all about that.” She paused. “And seen it too.”
    â€œWell, he is very sad,” said Mma Ramotswe. “So sad that I want to do something for