A Swing at Love

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

“Damn it,” Diane muttered as she watched her ball fly over the green and end up in the bunker behind it.

Isabelle was using her new special binoculars to measure the distance to the hole. “They’re the newest, most accurate model,” she’d said, proudly showing them off to Diane on the first hole. “And so much cheaper in the US. If you want I can ask Ted to bring you some, he’s going back in a couple of weeks to take care of some business.”

Diane had politely declined the offer. She was a firm believer in instinct and her own eyes. All these new technological innovations were lost on her. These days people even had watches that told them the distance to the hole.

Now, looking at where her ball had ended up, she was starting to think that a little help from technology would not be such a bad thing.

Isabelle finally decided on which club to use. She set up in front of her ball and took a calm and elegant swing at it. They both followed the ball with their eyes as it flew through the air until it landed on the green, rolled for a few seconds, and ended up two yards from the hole.

“Nice shot,” Diane said. “Did you do anything besides play while you were in Florida?”

Isabelle grinned at her. “Not really, no. I’ve told you many times, you should consider doing the same. We should go over together soon and you can look at condos. Then we can spend the winter together in the sun.”

“It does sound more appealing every time you mention it,” Diane mused. “But as long as I’m still working, I don’t feel I can be away for that long.”

“Oh, come on,” Isabelle exclaimed. “You only go into the office three days a week as it is. Your loyal employees keep the place running without you there. And, I know you’re a technophobe, but there’s this thing called the internet. Even Florida’s connected to it. You could work remotely.”

They had reached the green. “I’ll think about it,” Diane said. “Now let me focus on getting this ball out of that bloody bunker.”

After they had finished the hole, they saw they had caught up to the foursome in front of them. They sat on the wooden bench next to the tee as they waited their turn.

“Can you believe how slow they are?” Isabelle pointed at the septuagenarians playing ahead of them. “They’re probably still hungover from the dinner on Saturday. Did you see how drunk Barry Ferguson was? I saw him almost fall on his face on the way to the car park.”

Diane chuckled. “Most of those old codgers don’t usually stay out that late. You can’t blame them for having a jolly time.”

They sat in silence for a while and turned their faces towards the sun, making the most of its unexpected appearance. The trees were not showing signs of new leaves yet but the air smelled of the possibility of spring for the first time that year.

“Have you booked any lessons yet with the new pro?” Isabelle asked.

“I haven’t, but I plan to do so soon,” Diane replied. “I was sitting next to her on Saturday; she seems very nice.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Isabelle said. “Did she happen to mention why she left Chalstone?” Her tone was conspiratorial.

“She said she needed a change.” Diane looked at Isabelle. “Why? Do you know more?”

“I probably shouldn’t be saying this, as it’s only a rumour I heard from Ted’s friend, who’d heard it from someone else.” She paused. “Apparently—and again, this is just a rumour—she had a fling with the daughter of Chalstone’s president. That didn’t go down well, as you can probably imagine. Plus, said daughter is only about twenty, according to my source, so they said she was taking advantage of the girl. Miss Foxley’s contract was therefore not renewed and she was asked to leave.”

Diane sat in stunned silence for a moment. Then she said, “How sure are you of this?” Diane knew enough about golf to not be surprised that the new RTGC golf professional was sapphically inclined, but Tamsin had seemed completely decent and genuine, not the type to take advantage of anyone.

“As I said, I only have third or fourth-hand knowledge.” Isabelle shrugged. “Could be someone failed to improve their handicap sufficiently after lessons with her and decided to discredit her out of spite.”

The older gentlemen had moved on. Diane and Isabelle both hit their drives onto the fairway. As they were walking towards their balls, Isabelle said, “In any case, I for one would be very happy to have another out LGBT person at the club. Rob and Matthew sometimes feel so out of place. Maybe she can help Matthew get his membership accepted, finally.”

After they’d finished their round, Isabelle had rushed off, claiming the slow play had made her late for an appointment.

Diane was in the warehouse where the golf bags were stored, cleaning the mud from her clubs. She straightened when the door opened and Tamsin walked in.

“Hello Diane,” she said, “are you starting or finishing?”

“I just played a round with Isabelle,” Diane replied. “My first one since before Christmas, can you believe it?”

“Is that Mrs Avery?” Tamsin asked. “I’m not familiar with all the names yet.”

“Yes, that’s her.”

“How did it go, after your long break?”

“Not very well.” Diane laughed. “Let’s just say you’ll be seeing me on your teaching schedule sooner rather than later. If it’s not completely booked out yet, that is.”

Tamsin took her phone out of her pocket. She tapped the screen a few times, then held it out for Diane to look at. “As you can see, my schedule for the next few days is still pretty empty. Darren has been encouraging his pupils to give me a try, and many have approached me, but I guess they’ll only actually start coming once he’s gone.”

“Well,” Diane said resolutely, “I for one don’t want to wait. New year, new start and all that.” Diane thought she had spotted the name Deborah Stamp in Wednesday’s calendar and decided not to take any chances. “Are you free Thursday afternoon, say, at three o’clock?”

Tamsin checked her phone. “Not anymore.” She smiled at Diane. “Thank you.”

“Did you have a nice time at the party Saturday night?”

“I did, but I went home quite early. It’s rather tiring meeting all those new people, trying to remember everyone’s name.”

“I can imagine,” Diane said. “Especially when most of us had a few too many to drink. I saw you managed to fend off Lionel’s advances.” Diane winked.

Tamsin chuckled. “Yes, I did.”

“Not your type, is he?” Diane asked before she could stop herself.

“Eh, no, not really.” Tamsin blushed at the question.

“I’m sorry,” Diane said, placing her hand on Tamsin’s arm. “I’m always saying things I shouldn’t.”

“That’s all right,” Tamsin said. “Don’t worry about it.” Her mouth opened and she looked like she might say something more, but then decided against it.

An awkward silence followed. Diane realised her hand was still on Tamsin’s arm, and quickly retracted it.

“Well,” Tamsin said, “I should let you get on with your cleaning. I want everything spic and span for Thursday.” She wagged her finger and gave Diane a stern look, before breaking into a wide smile.

Diane laughed and gave a salute. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“See you then.” Tamsin walked towards the back of the warehouse, where the pro’s office was located.

Diane’s gaze followed her and lingered on the spot where Tamsin had disappeared from view behind a row of stored bags.

Diane was intrigued by the new teacher. She had an easy manner with people and an engaging personality—as far as Diane could tell after only a couple of encounters. These were probably prerequisites for someone in Tamsin’s profession. Nevertheless, Diane felt like they would get along. Despite what Isabelle had told her on the course, Tamsin definitely didn’t seem like someone who would act inappropriately with anyone. Diane vowed to do her best to make sure Tamsin was welcomed at the RTGC.