The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe by Alexander McCall Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

regarded her as a challenge—somebody who clearly needed to be saved, and he would have made a big effort to do so.”
    BUT NOW ITUMELANG WAS ASLEEP and Mma Makutsi was sitting in the kitchen, aware that she would have to start cooking the evening meal, but too excited by the news she had received that day to concentrate on any mundane task. She sat like that for almost twenty minutes, going over in her mind her short, businesslike conversation with the lawyer. Her offer for the lease of the premises had been accepted and, under the power of attorney she had granted him, he had signed it. Nothing remained to be done. For the next five years she was to be the tenant of the commercial premises on Plot 1432 Extension Two, Gaborone; she, Grace Makutsi, daughter of the last Hector Makutsi, of Bobonong—just that and nothing else, but now, all rather suddenly, it seemed, Mrs. Radiphuti, mother of Itumelang Radiphuti, and tenant in her own right of commercial premises. It was almost too much to take in, and when Phuti eventually came home she was still thinking of it all with the warm glow that comes from the contemplation of something deeply satisfying, something that one cannot quite believe has happened.
    Phuti had been aware that the lawyer would phone that dayand he knew immediately. “Good news?” he said, as he entered the kitchen. “I think I can tell.”
    She nodded, and he stepped forward to embrace her.
    â€œIt is all arranged,” she said. “He has signed the lease for me and I am now the tenant.”
    Phuti patted her on the shoulder. “My Grace,” he said fondly. “You are a very clever woman. I am proud of you.”
    She thought:
It’s your money
, but she did not say it. Instead she said, “I cannot wait, Phuti. He said we can pick up the keys tomorrow.”
    â€œI’ve spoken to that painter,” said Phuti. “He says that he is ready to start the moment we buy the paint.”
    â€œGood. And the carpenter?”
    â€œHe will be ready to start next week. He says the painter can start as long as he doesn’t do the part where the cupboards are going. Then he’ll come in and start building all the other things. And the electrician. That Zimbabwean we use at the store says that he will drop everything and come to us the moment we need him.”
    Mma Makutsi smiled. She had become aware of Phuti’s influence, but had yet to become used to the ease with which he could get tradesmen to dance attendance.
    â€œI think we could open in about a month,” she said.
    â€œAs soon as that?”
    â€œYes. We will need to find a chef and waiters, but that will be easy. There are always people searching for jobs. There are far too many chefs, I think.”
    Phuti nodded. He assumed that she knew what she was talking about. He was not sure why there should be such an over-abundance of chefs, but perhaps she was right. “And a name, Grace? You said that you would think of a suitable name for your restaurant.”
    She had already given that some thought, and a name had come into her mind unbidden. It was exactly the right name for her business, and she now announced it to Phuti: “The Handsome Man’s De Luxe Café.”
    Phuti hesitated. “For … for handsome men?” he asked. He was not a handsome man himself; he knew that.
    â€œYes,” said Mma Makutsi. Then she laughed. “Not that other men are discouraged, Rra. All will be welcome.”
    â€œThen why call it the Handsome Man’s place? Why not just the De Luxe Café?”
    â€œBecause I want it to be a fashionable restaurant, Phuti.” She considered again what she had said about everybody being welcome. That would need some qualification. “But I do not want any riff-raff coming in and eating there,” she continued. “I want this to be a big important stop on the circuit.”
    Phuti thought of the riff-raff and found