The Double Comfort Safari Club - By Alexander McCall Smith Page 0,6

or girlfriend. Some men even found that exciting in a physical way … He bit his lip. He could not imagine being interested in that way in somebody like Mma Mateleke; how would one ever get to plant a kiss on such a person if she was always talking? It would be difficult to get one’s lips into contact with a mouth that was always opening and shutting to form words; that would surely be very distracting for a man, he thought, and might even discourage him to the point of disinclination, if that was the right word. But it did not do to think about these things, he felt; it was no business of his whether or not Mma Mateleke was having an affair with Mr. Ntirang, and this was not even altered by the fact that she was married—apparently happily—to a part-time reverend, of all people. This reverend was popular and highly thought of, and even broadcast every now and then on Radio Botswana, when he would talk on a programme called From the Pulpit. It is no business of mine, thought Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni; my business is to fix cars, just as it is Mma Mateleke’s business to bring babies into the world.

No, it was none of his business to speculate, but he could still ask Mma Mateleke how her husband was, which he did, and she replied, “My husband is in very good health, thank you, Rra.”

The answer came quickly, and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni found himself wondering whether it was not perhaps a little bit on the dismissive side, as if she wished to preclude any further discussion of the reverend. The words thank you can sometimes be uttered in that way, meaning No further discussion, please, as in: I am quite all right, thank you very much.

“I am glad to hear that he is well,” he said. “That is good.”

“Yes,” said Mma Mateleke. “That is good.”

There was a silence. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni took the opportunity to wind down the window on the driver’s side. Then he said, “He must be very busy. A popular reverend is always busy, isn’t he? Even if he is part-time.”

Mma Mateleke nodded. She was looking out of the window on her side. “There is always something happening,” she said. “People forget that he is part-time, and that he has a business to run as well. They get married and die and do all these things that need reverends. And he has to think about what he is going to say in his sermons on the radio. That is very hard work, of course, because you cannot go on the radio and say any old thing, can you?”

He shook his head. “That is very true. You cannot say the first thing in your mind when you know that the whole country is listening.”

“If it’s listening,” said Mma Mateleke. “I think there are many people who turn off the radio when my husband’s programme comes on.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni frowned. This was a strange thing for a wife to say; surely if one’s spouse was on the radio one should be a bit more loyal in one’s remarks. It was a very odd remark, but he decided to make light of it. “Those will be the bad people,” he said. “Bad people do not like to listen to reverends on the radio. They make them feel guilty. So all the bad people turn off at the same time—click, click, click.”

He looked at her sideways, expecting her to laugh, or at least smile, at his observation. But she did not. She was looking out of the window again, and he was not sure that she had heard him.

“It is his birthday next week,” she said suddenly. “I shall make him a very special cake. He is turning forty, you see, and I am planning a special party for him.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni felt relieved. That settled that, he thought. If Mma Mateleke were having an affair, then she would hardly be talking about making a special effort for her husband’s birthday. This was not the way a woman in that situation behaved. He felt guilty about his suspicions; if everybody who saw a married woman talking to a strange man were to draw the conclusion that there was something going on, then ordinary life would become quite impossible. He would be unable to talk to Mma Makutsi, for example, and she to him. And Mma Ramotswe would be unable to talk to the apprentices—especially Charlie,