The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon (23 page)

‘Yes,’ said Angela. ‘Maybe she does want it, but somebody else wants it even more. I heard about another person altogether but I didn’t want to say anything to Mma Soleti because I wasn’t sure and I knew that there had been a lot of trouble with that person.’

Mma Ramotswe was listening carefully. ‘How did you hear all this?’ she asked.

‘Because I met the agent who lets these places,’ said Angela. ‘He lives near my parents. He said to me that he hoped that Mma Soleti was pleased with this place because he could have let it to somebody else. He said that there was somebody who tried to bribe him to let it to her, even after Mma Soleti had signed the agreement. He said she offered him money because she was desperate to get this shop. She wanted to open a branch of her printing business here and she thought this was the best place for that. He refused.’

Mma Ramotswe sat motionless, holding her breath. ‘Did he say who it was, Mma?’

‘It was that woman whose husband went off with Mma Soleti.’

‘Daisy Manchwe?’

‘Yes. He said it was her. So I thought that she must be the person who was trying to get us out. But now I know that I am wrong and it was really Violet Sephotho, I’m glad that I didn’t say anything.’

Mma Ramotswe held up a hand. ‘Can you wipe the cream off?’ she said. ‘I need to go.’

‘But I’ve hardly started,’ Angela complained.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Mma Ramotswe. ‘There are things that are more important than beauty.’

Angela removed the cream and Mma Ramotswe stood up. Returning to the main treatment room, she addressed Mma Soleti, who was applying a thick layer of cream to Mma Makutsi’s face.

‘I think,’ she began, ‘that it might not be Violet Sephotho after all.’

Mma Soleti put down the jar of cream with a thump. ‘Not her?’

‘No. I think it is somebody else.’ Mma Ramotswe glanced at Mma Makutsi. ‘I… we both probably jumped to a conclusion. It was not an unreasonable conclusion, but it was perhaps a little bit too early to decide what we decided. I’m sorry, Mma.’

Mma Soleti frowned. ‘It is not one person, but you say it is another. Who is this other person, Mma?’

‘I think it is Daisy Manchwe. Angela has just told me that she tried to get hold of this shop. She is the one who copied that notice – and I think she probably wrote it too.’

Mma Soleti gasped. ‘Her! I told you, Mma Ramotswe! You asked me for a list of enemies and I put her name at the top. Remember?’

‘You did tell me, Mma,’ agreed Mma Ramotswe. ‘And I went to see her. She told me that she bore you no ill will. She said that she was pleased that you had taken her husband from her because…’

‘Because of what, Mma?’ Mma Soleti exploded.

Mma Ramotswe made an effort to summon every reserve of tact. ‘Because she felt perhaps the two of them were not very well suited. It was something like that.’

Mma Soleti gave a crowing laugh. ‘I rescued him from that big liar, Mma. She is a very big, famous liar.’

‘Yes,’ said Angela loyally. ‘That is what she is. A big, big liar. There are many liars in this country, Mma, and her name is up at the top of the list. If the government published a list of liars, whose name would be at the top? Daisy Manchwe.’

Mma Ramotswe turned to Mma Makutsi. ‘I’m sorry it wasn’t Violet,’ said Mma Ramotswe. ‘I know you were looking forward to denouncing her.’

‘There will always be another time,’ said Mma Makutsi philosophically. ‘When there are many bad ladies around, Mma, it is best to deal with them one by one, I think.’

‘That’s all very well,’ interjected Angela. ‘But what are you going to do with this Manchwe person? Is she going to get away with it, like Violet Sephotho would have done?’

Mma Ramotswe turned to Angela. ‘There are ways of handling these things, Mma.’

‘What are they?’ challenged Angela.

Mma Ramotswe was tolerant of the younger woman’s impatience. ‘Mma Makutsi and I will go to speak to her. We will tell her that we know that it was her who has done these things.’ She paused. ‘Have you ever confronted a person who has done something really bad, Mma?’

Angela said nothing.

‘Well,’ continued Mma Ramotswe, ‘sometimes you don’t have to say very much to them. You look at them and you must not blink. You look at them, and you watch them, thinking about what they have done. It doesn’t always work – there are some people who are without shame, but most people have some shame inside them, Mma. And you let that shame do its work. And…’ Now she raised a finger. ‘You may tell them that they are forgiven. That can be very, very powerful, Mma. Don’t forget it. Forgiveness works.’

Angela looked down at the floor. ‘I’m sorry, Mma. I was a bit rude.’

‘No, you weren’t,’ said Mma Ramotswe. ‘What you said was understandable. There are times when it is necessary to punish people to make them face up to their actions – and to make others feel that justice has been done. So we might come up with something that will bring it home to Daisy Manchwe that what she did was wrong. I’ve thought of something, in fact.’

Mma Makutsi looked interested. ‘What is that, Mma?’

‘Could you use some advertising leaflets, Mma Soleti?’

Mma Makutsi let out a chuckle. ‘Free, of course.’

But then Mma Ramotswe took Mma Soleti aside and whispered to her so that the others did not hear what she said. ‘Mma, it may be that you need to think a bit about what happened between you and Daisy Manchwe. When there is something like this, it may be that there are two people at fault. It may be that you need to ask for forgiveness too. She may not feel entirely happy about her husband leaving her, you know – whatever she says about him.’

When Mma Soleti began to protest, Mma Ramotswe quietened her. ‘No, Mma, you must think too. That is all I’m saying.’

Mma Soleti took a deep breath. ‘All right, Mma, I’ll think.’

‘Good,’ said Mma Ramotswe. ‘Thinking is a good thing.’ She smiled. ‘Not always, but certainly most of the time.’

At lunchtime Mma Ramotswe drove Mma Makutsi and Itumelang Clovis Radiphuti back to the Radiphuti house as Phuti was delayed in a business meeting and could not collect them. Mma Makutsi, her face glowing from the creams that Mma Soleti had applied, invited Mma Ramotswe to return later on, after work, to share a cup of tea with her.

‘I have some new chairs, Mma,’ she said. ‘And I would like you to see them.’

So Mma Ramotswe returned shortly after five that evening. They sat together on the veranda, watching the sun sink beneath the canopy of acacia that made the horizon. The sun was copper-red, a great ball, and it floated down so gently, as if to nudge us into night, to let us take the garments of the dark about us slowly and deliberately, without haste and without fear.

Mma Ramotswe reflected on the events of the last few days. Matters that she had thought would not be easily settled had been resolved in ways that were quite unexpected.

‘Isn’t it odd,’ she said to Mma Makutsi, ‘how things work out in ways that you would never expect?’

‘It is very odd,’ said Mma Makutsi. ‘Or maybe not. If it always happens, then maybe it isn’t odd.’

‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Mma Ramotswe. ‘Perhaps we should learn to expect the unexpected.’

‘Then it would not be unexpected, Mma,’ pointed out Mma Makutsi.

‘No, you’re right.’

Mma Ramotswe leaned back in her chair. The new chairs were very comfortable, but that was to be expected, surely, in the household of the man who owned the Double Comfort Furniture Store.

‘I’m very grateful to you, Mma Makutsi,’ she said. ‘I think I may already have told you that I’m very grateful to you for coming back to work.’

‘You have told me before, Mma,’ said Mma Makutsi. ‘But it does not matter if one says something more than once – if it is a good thing to begin with.’

Mma Ramotswe studied the glow in the sky where the sun had been. The glow left by the sun is like a good act done, she thought; or like love, which left the same warm signature behind it.

‘Mma Makutsi,’ she said. ‘I have been thinking.’

‘About what, Mma?’

‘I have been thinking about this little business of ours.’

Ours
, thought Mma Makutsi.
Ours.

‘And what I have decided,’ Mma Ramotswe continued, ‘is that you should be a partner in this business. Not an associate but a partner, sharing the profit, which may be nothing at the moment and may never be more than nothing, but may be more one day – who knows?’

Mma Makutsi looked at Mma Ramotswe and thought: This is the best woman in Botswana.

‘Mma Ramotswe,’ she said, ‘half of nothing is better than nothing of nothing. And even if we made a big loss, I would be honoured to share that loss with you.’ She paused. ‘You are a very kind lady, Mma. I have always known that.’

Mma Ramotswe was quiet for a moment, but then she said, ‘Well, Mma Makutsi, I think that’s settled.’

They sat in silence. Nothing further needed to be said. As night embraced Botswana, the red glow in the sky faded, yet still seemed to be there, somehow, well after it had gone.