From a Far and Lovely Country by Alexander McCall Smith

Author:Alexander McCall Smith [McCall Smith, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2023-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

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AT THE END of their day’s work, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni drove over to the house of Mr. Gideon Maponde, owner of an uncooperative silver car, and neighbour of Deputy Principal Modise. It was in one of the middle-range suburbs that had sprung up around Gaborone, within the reach of those on good, but not over-generous government salaries, or those in middle management who looked forward to being able to afford a larger, more sought-after house, even though they might not be able to afford it just yet. The houses that lined the street had been built closer together than those on Zebra Drive, where Mma Ramotswe and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni lived—domestic plots had been wider and deeper in those days, when it seemed unlikely that there would ever be any shortage of land. And there was still an abundance of undeveloped bush, stretching out to the distant horizons of the Kalahari, but there was a sense now of its finite nature, because everybody knew that there was not enough of everything and that what there was would not last forever.

They found the plot number, which was 5409, painted on a small metal plate attached to the front gate. A fence marked the perimeter of the yard, and on the other side of this a small flock of chickens, scrawny and disconsolate, pecked at the barren earth. The Maponde house itself seemed in need of a coat of paint, and one of its gutters was hanging off the roof at a drunken angle.

“He is a very untidy man, our friend Maponde,” muttered Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “Untidy car, untidy house, untidy man.”

Charlie noticed the infamous car, parked under an acacia tree beside the house. It had been reversed into position and was facing them, its grille a mocking mouth, its headlights malevolent eyes.

“There’s that car of his, Boss,” said Charlie.

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni threw a glance towards the parked vehicle. “He could easily afford a new car, you know. But he holds on to that wretched vehicle in spite of everything.”

Charlie grinned. “Perhaps it has something on him, Boss,” he said. “Perhaps the car is blackmailing him.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni looked askance at Charlie. “That’s ridiculous, Charlie.”

“I wasn’t serious,” protested the young man. “I was joking, you see.”

“I did not think it very funny,” said Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “Maybe I’m slow with these things. Maybe I’m old-fashioned.”

“You, Boss?” exclaimed Charlie. “You are very modern and up to date. No, I’m not just saying that. Sometimes people who look very old-fashioned are the most modern of all…” He trailed off, as Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni was staring at him, and he felt disconcerted as a result. Perhaps he should not have described Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni as looking old-fashioned—even if he was. So he continued, “I’m not saying you look old-fashioned, Rra. I’m not saying that at all.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni brushed the protestation aside. “Stop going on about nothing, Charlie,” he said. “We must go and speak to Maponde.”

As they approached the house, a door linking the verandah to the interior opened, and a woman emerged.

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