Precious and Grace Read Online Free PDF

from school? Possibly; but when you went to the supermarket or the school, there were often rather few men to be seen—new or otherwise.
    They finished their journey in silence. When they came to a halt under the acacia tree at the back of the office, Fanwell pointed to a small blue car parked near the agency door. “That car must belong to your client, Mma,” he said. “She has already arrived.”
    Mma Ramotswe looked at her watch. They had returned well in time. “She is early,” she said.
    “That means she will be very worried, Mma,” said Fanwell. “If somebody brings a car into the garage before the time you’ve agreed with them, that means they are very anxious about their car.” He looked at her intently, as if to ascertain that she had understood. “Same thing with people, Mma. Same thing…I think.”
    Once out of the van, he went over to the blue car and started to examine it. Mma Ramotswe watched him; she was puzzled.
    “Something wrong, Fanwell?” she asked.
    He touched the side of the car gently, as if to answer some unspoken question.
    “This car has been resprayed on this side, but not on the other.”
    Mma Ramotswe could not see any difference, but then cars never meant a great deal to her. She loved her own van, but beyond that cars were an alien tribe—important and necessary, but not to become too exercised over.
    “I think this car has had an accident on this side,” Fanwell continued. “I’d take a very careful look at the steering if I were driving it. Sometimes they don’t balance the wheels properly, you see—after an accident, that is. There are many bad mechanics, Mma. Every day, more bad mechanics arrive.” He paused, while he peered through the driver’s window. “And this car has many drivers, Mma.”
    She frowned. “How can you tell that, Fanwell?”
    “Because it is a rental car,” Fanwell announced.
    Mma Ramotswe whistled in admiration. “You are quite the detective, Rra! A car detective, perhaps.”
    Fanwell’s face broke into a broad smile. “Thank you, Mma. I can tell that it’s a rental car because…well, because the rental agreement is lying on the passenger seat.”
    Mma Ramotswe laughed. “All the best clues are very obvious,” she said. “That’s what Clovis Andersen says.”
    “Your book?” asked Fanwell.
    “Yes.
The Principles of Private Detection.
”
    Fanwell nodded in recognition. “That book says everything, doesn’t it?” He paused. “It’s a pity that we mechanics don’t have something like that.
The Principles of Cars.
That would be a good book, that one, Mma.”
    She smiled. “
The Principles of Cars,
by Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. That would be a very good book, I think. ‘Chapter one: Listen to what the car is trying to tell you.’ ”
    Fanwell clapped his hands together in delight. “Oh, that is very funny, Mma. The boss is always saying that to us. It’s one of the first things he said to me when I started my apprenticeship. I don’t think I understood then.”
    “But you do now?”
    “Oh, I do understand now, Mma. It is very true. A car will tell you if it is suffering. And it will often make it very clear where the problem is.”
    Mma Ramotswe nodded. “And chapter two of Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni’s book—what would that be?”
    Fanwell thought for a moment. “Chapter two would be: ‘What to do next.’ I think that would be a good title for it.”
    “Well, maybe we should suggest it to him, but now I must go inside and meet this new client.”
    She straightened her dress, which had become crumpled in the van. There were dog hairs that showed against the dark red of the material, and she began to brush these off before she went into the office. She thought of the dog, and its vain attempt to pursue them after they had dropped it off. Perhaps it had no home after all and was now wandering the streets of Old Naledi, sniffing around for some scraps of food, for some sign of the human interest or affection it yearned for but