The landlord was satisfied on Friday. Grace paid him in full, in front of the other tenants, and was careful not to let her hand shake. Mr. Turner counted it twice, grunted, and left.
On Saturday she did what she had planned. She woke at three, cooked three huge pots, and by eight o'clock was standing outside the new building site with the food, serving spoons, and two daughters in tow, because there was nobody to leave them with.
The workers came like ants. By ten, everything was sold. Grace stood there looking at the empty pots, hardly believing it.
"Mama, you finished everything!" Evelyn clapped.
"Almost," Ella said. She had been counting. "Mama, one man did not pay."
"I know. We will not chase him."
"Why?"
"Because I would rather lose a small thing than lose my peace."
But it was a good day, so Grace did something she rarely did. She took the girls to the office area, the rich part of town with the glass buildings and clean roads, to deliver a few packs she had promised a lady named Mrs. Clarke who worked at an accounting firm there.
The girls had never been in that part of town. They stared at everything. The buildings. The tall trees planted in neat lines. The people walking so fast in nice shoes.
They were waiting at the roadside for Grace to finish when a car came gliding down the street. A long, black car, so shiny that the whole sky reflected in its doors. It moved without any sound at all. Through the tinted window they glimpsed a woman in the back seat, laughing at something on her phone.
The car stopped at the traffic light.
"Wow," Evelyn whispered. "Mama, that is the most beautiful car in the whole world."
Grace, who had walked out of the building by now with her empty bags, looked at it. For a moment, a very small, tired part of her wanted to say one day we will have that. But she did not want to put weight on her children's shoulders.
Ella stared at the car for a very long time. Then she turned to her mother with a face so serious, it nearly made Grace laugh.
"Mama," she said. "I will buy you a car like that. One day."
"Me too!" Evelyn shouted. "And a house! A very big house with a gate and a garden!"
"And a kitchen with a real gas cooker," Ella added. "So you will not blow on charcoal again."
The light turned green. The black car slid away.
Grace laughed, and then to her own surprise, her eyes filled. She pulled both girls into her arms right there on the pavement, with people walking around them.
"You are very small to be making promises," she said.
"We are not making promises," Ella said fiercely. "We are making plans."
Grace held that sentence for a long time afterwards.
But when they got home that evening, there was a note pinned to the door. Ella's school had sent it. It was about unpaid fees.