Queenie-Queenie’s father said, “What?”
“I said I am very happy to meet you, Rra.”
Queenie-Queenie’s father acknowledged the sentiment with a nod of his head. Then he introduced himself. “I am called Isaiah. That is my name. Isaiah.”
Charlie bit his lip again. “I am Charlie,” he said.
“I know that,” said Isaiah.
“Charlie is a detective,” said Queenie-Queenie. “I’ve told you that already, I think, Daddy. A private detective.”
Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I knew that too. You work for those ladies, don’t you? That Mma Ramotswe.”
“I do,” said Charlie. “She is my boss.”
Isaiah gestured for Charlie to sit down. The leather upholstery of the chair on which he sat squeaked in protest.
“Sometimes I think these chairs are still alive,” said Isaiah. “I think they are saying to us: Do not sit on us too heavily, please.”
Queenie-Queenie laughed, and Charlie followed her example. “You would not want a chair to walk away on its legs,” he said.
This amused Isaiah. “That is very funny—a chair walking away on its legs. That is very funny.”
This was followed by silence. Queenie-Queenie had now taken a seat on the sofa, beside her father. She glanced at Charlie before turning to address Isaiah.
“Charlie and I are going out together,” she said.
Her father looked at Charlie. “So, you are going out. Where are you going?”
Charlie was not sure how to respond. Was this a joke, or was it an enquiry?
“Out,” said Queenie-Queenie. “We go out together, Daddy.”
Her father said nothing. Then, after a minute or so of now rather painful silence, Queenie-Queenie went on, “And Charlie would like to ask you something.”
Isaiah closed his eyes briefly. “There are many questions to be asked,” he said.
From somewhere inside the house there came the sound of a door opening. Then, bounding into the room came a large brown dog. Stopping in its tracks when it saw Charlie, the animal bared its teeth.
“Meat!” shouted Queenie-Queenie.
Charlie looked at her in astonishment. “You’re giving him meat?”
“No, that’s his name. Meat! Down!”
The dog began to crouch, but then rose and walked slowly towards Charlie, its body moving in a curiously sinuous motion.
“Just hold out your hand,” said Queenie-Queenie. “He won’t bite you.”
Watched with unconcealed amusement by Queenie-Queenie’s father, Charlie extended a hand. The dog sniffed at it, and then licked it. Its demeanour now was friendly rather than threatening.
Isaiah laughed. “You see? You see—he likes you.” He paused. “Meat is a good judge of character, you know.”
The dog was now sniffing at Charlie’s shoes. Then he lay down at his feet, looking up at him.
“That’s amazing,” said Isaiah. “Look at that, Queenie! See that? Meat likes your young man.”
Queenie-Queenie’s pleasure was obvious. “I am happy that he likes him. That is very good, Daddy.”
Isaiah was observing Charlie with interest. “Questions,” he said abruptly. “We were talking about questions.”
Charlie looked down at the dog. There was no reason to be frightened of it; Isaiah was a different matter. He transferred his gaze to Queenie-Queenie, who smiled encouragingly. “We would like to get married, Rra,” he blurted out. Then he added, “Soon. Maybe next month.”
Queenie-Queenie beamed with pleasure. “You hear that, Daddy?”
Isaiah threw a glance at his daughter before looking back at Charlie. “You say you’re a detective. You’re not a policeman?”
“Private detective,” Queenie-Queenie interjected. “He looks into important questions for private people. It is not crime—it is not that sort of thing.”
“Let him talk,” snapped Isaiah.
“I am not police,” said Charlie. “I am on the civil side.”
“The civil side?”
“Yes, business. Private affairs. That sort of thing.”
Isaiah nodded. “We are traditional people,” he said. “We still follow our Botswana customs.”
Queenie-Queenie looked anxious. “Charlie is very traditional,” she said. “He respects all the traditions, don’t you, Charlie?”
Charlie looked at her pleadingly. He knew exactly why traditions had been raised: this was all about bogadi, the bride price.
“It will be some time before Charlie can pay what is needed,” Queenie-Queenie said. “There are many people these days who do it that way.”
Charlie wanted to add that there were many people who now ignored the custom of bride payment altogether, but that was not traditional, and he had just been described as being traditional.
“I wouldn’t rule that out,” said Isaiah. “There are many ways of doing it.”
Queenie-Queenie clapped her hands together. “That’s right, Daddy. There are many ways.”
Charlie took a deep breath. “I should get the money quite soon,” he said. “There are part-time jobs I can do. Hector has offered me a part-time job, but I am not going to take that one.”
Charlie did not see Queenie-Queenie’s frantic signal. Isaiah did, though, and he turned sharply to Charlie. “My son, Hector?”
“Yes. He has offered me a job with his firm. But, as I said, I am not going to take it.”
Isaiah sat quite still. His voice was lowered. “And what exactly was that job?”
Queenie-Queenie started to say something but was silenced by a look from her father.
“He lends money,” said Charlie. “He wanted me to…” He hesitated. “He wanted me to help him recover payments. But I won’t do it. I am not going to go and wreck their cars. I am not going to do something like that.”
Isaiah closed his eyes. Charlie looked miserably towards Queenie-Queenie, who was staring at him with contained fury.
Isaiah opened his eyes. “Queenie, do you know about this?”
Queenie-Queenie sighed. “He has been trying to help Charlie.”
“Help put him in prison,” shouted Isaiah. “Yes, prison. Prison is what you get for that sort of thing. Same as last time. Same, same.” He paused. “He promised me he wouldn’t get involved in that sort of thing again. He promised.”