Blue shoes and happiness by Alexander McCall Smith

Mma Ramotswe sat out under the hot Botswanan sun drinking a cup of red bush tea. She picked up the paper and started chuckling at the new advice column, Aunty Emang. At her age there were some things you just knew. There were the difficult problems, such as why a wheel was round, and the trivial, such as where her husband, Mr JLB Matekoni, had left his toothbrush.

And it was in these very trivial problems that the only begetter of the No 1 Ladies' Detective Agency specialised. "Men are weak," Mma Ramotswe mused. Her assistant, Mma Makutsi, sensed another profound insight was imminent. "Mr JLB Matekoni's weakness is cake."

This was indeed interesting and worthy of another cup of tea. Mma Makutsi went to the kitchen where she encountered Mr JLB Maketoni."Sometimes a football team wins," he said. "And sometimes it loses."

This second piece of wisdom in as many minutes was interrupted by a shout. "There's a cobra in my office," cried Mma Ramotswe.

Just then Mr Whitson, one of Mr JLB Matekoni's customers, rushed in and grabbed the snake. "You're safe now," he said. "By the way, I wonder if you can help. All the local people near the game reserve are acting strangely."

It sounded like witchcraft to Mma Ramotswe, but she decided to say nothing as a distressed young woman, wearing an apron covered in food, entered the room. "I would guess that you are a cook," said Mma Ramotswe. "You are truly gifted with second sight," the girl answered. "I am at my wit's end. Mma Tsau is giving away free food to her husband and she thinks I am blackmailing her about it."

Mma Ramotswe drank her tea and smiled kindly. "Leave it to me." Mma Makutsi was very disturbed.

Her fiance, Phuti Radiphuti, had fallen silent when she had declared herself to be a feminist.

"You must cook him a meal to reassure him," Mma Ramotswe insisted. Mma Makutsi followed this excellent advice to the letter, but Phuti failed to arrive. "Oh what shall I do?" she cried. "You must go and talk to him," said Mma Ramotswe.

"Oh thank God, you're here," said Phuti. "I was unexpectedly called away and I was worried you might think I did not want to marry you anymore." Mma Ramotswe sighed with the release of such unbearable tension.

A nurse darted into the office. "There's something strange about the Ugandan doctor," she said. "He's giving the wrong blood pressure pills."

Mma Ramotswe noted down the details before accompanying Mma Makutsi to buy some new shoes. "They look a little small."

Mr Polopetsi had grown concerned that Mma Ramotswe had made no attempt to solve any of her cases, so he drove to Mr Whitson's game reserve.

"The locals were superstitious about the hornbill," he said later.

"Sadly, it's now a late hornbill as you put it in a box," Mma Ramotswe observed tartly. "And by the way, Aunty Emang was responsible for Mma Tsau's and the Ugandan doctor's troubles."

Mma Makutsi grinned. Mma Ramotswe had saved the day again. "Time for tea," said Mma Ramotswe.