A Swing at Love Read online

  “A handicap’s something that can always be worked on.”

  Diane shook her head. “A lot of my friends at this club fill their days with golf and bridge, but I get a lot of satisfaction from going to work—and earning my own money.”

  “I’m actually looking for a new accountant. Someone closer to where I live,” Tamsin said.

  “Well, then look no further.” Diane grabbed her purse and dug through it. She unearthed a business card and handed it to Tamsin. “Call me any time.”

  “I’ll take you up on that.” For the first time since she’d moved to Tynebury, looking for a much-needed fresh start, Tamsin had the feeling she was on the verge of making a good friend.

  Chapter Five

  “Mum, we have some news,” Timothy said at dinner on Friday. He and Lucy were sitting across from Diane, eating the shepherd’s pie she had prepared.

  He had unexpectedly called Diane a few days earlier to ask if they could come over and spend the night. Usually she had to plead and beg for Tim and Lucy to make it down to Tynebury for a visit. Not that she blamed them; they had a full and exciting life in London.

  Diane’s heart started beating a little faster at Timothy’s words. Could it be…?

  “We’re expecting a baby,” he continued. “It’s a little earlier than we had planned, but hey ho, these things happen.” The smile he sent Lucy as he was talking belied the reluctance of his words.

  “Oh Tim, Lucy,” Diane said, her heart bursting with joy. “I’m so happy for you both.” She stood up and walked around the table to give Lucy a hug, her eyes welling up. “How far along are you?”

  “Three months,” Lucy said. “I’m just about starting to show.”

  “You look radiant,” Diane looked Lucy up and down. “I should have known something was up when Tim called to say you wanted to come over.”

  “Oh Mum,” Tim said, taking Diane into his arms for a hug. “You know we’ll be down here all the time once the baby’s here—free babysitting and all that.” He released Diane from his embrace and gave her a wide grin.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Diane said. “This calls for some Champagne, don’t you think? A small glass won’t hurt you, Lucy. Goodness knows I had the occasional tipple when I was pregnant with this one here”—she pointed at Tim—“and he seems to have turned out just fine.”

  Diane hurried to the cellar to fetch a bottle from the wine fridge. She took a moment to steady herself. She was going to be a grandmother. She could hardly believe it.

  She returned to the dining room, stopping by the kitchen to pick up some flutes.

  “Here, darling,” she said, handing the bottle to Timothy. “You do the honours.”

  He popped the cork and poured out three glasses.

  Diane picked hers up and held it in front of her. “To you, Lucy, for giving me my first grandchild. May there be many more to come.”

  “Mother,” Timothy said laughing, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll start with one and see how that goes.”

  “All right, all right,” Diane conceded.

  They drank from their Champagne and sat back down at the table.

  “Have you told your father yet?” Diane asked.

  “No,” Timothy said. “We wanted to tell you first. But we’re going over there tomorrow to give him the news.”

  “I hope your news doesn’t give Debbie any ideas,” Diane blurted.

  Timothy and Lucy guffawed.

  “Mum,” he said, clearly amused by her comment.

  “Sorry, darling. I shouldn’t say things like that.” Diane looked at him apologetically. “But she is about the same age as you. Her biological clock must be manifesting itself.”

  “I know,” Timothy said. “I still find it hard to wrap my head around sometimes. Can you imagine Dad having a kid with Debbie? He or she would be younger than ours.” He looked quite appalled at the whole idea.

  “I would rather not think about that, dear,” Diane said. “But I have to hand it to your father, he was always very good with you when you were a baby. He definitely did his share of the night-time feeds and nappy changing.” She paused. “That doesn’t mean I can imagine him doing it all again now. Anyway, I don’t think you need to worry. Debbie doesn’t seem like the type who’d want to sacrifice her figure, not even for a child.” She winked at her son.

  After they had finished dessert, Lucy went to bed in Timothy’s old bedroom which now served as a guest room. She was tired from the journey down and, Diane suspected, she wanted to give Timothy some alone time with his mother.

  Diane came into the living room carrying a teapot and a couple of cups on a tray. She put the tray down on the low table in front of the sofa.

  “Would you like a biscuit with this?” she asked him as she poured them each a cup. “I think I have some in the pantry.”

  “This is fine, Mum. I’m so full from dinner. You know I can never stop myself having seconds—or thirds—when you make your shepherd’s pie. It’s the best.” He smiled at her.

  Diane did an internal dance of triumph at her small culinary victory over Debbie.

  “It’s so nice to have you down. I really hope you meant it when you said you’d be here more often once the baby comes.”

  “I promise”—Timothy put his hand on his heart solemnly—“that we will come and see you all the time. You’ll wish we stayed away more.”

  They drank their tea in silence.

  “Have you never thought of trying to find someone new?” Timothy asked after a while.

  Diane almost spat out the tea in her mouth, so unexpected was this question coming from her son. She swallowed and replied, “I have thought about it, of course. It would be nice to meet someone to share things with.” She paused. In the immediate wake of the divorce Diane had harboured many thoughts of finding a dashing, successful man she could show off to spite Lawrence. After a while the thought of spiting Lawrence had faded and Diane had simply hoped for a companion, dashing or not.

  “The thing is,” Diane said, “I don’t even know how I would go about meeting someone.”

  “Aren’t there any eligible bachelors at the club?” Timothy asked. “How about Lionel?” He sent her a cheeky smile.

  Diane picked up a cushion from the sofa and threw it at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “But, seriously, Mum,” Timothy said. “If you want to meet someone, there are ways. Have you tried making yourself a Tinder profile?”

  Diane scoffed. “That’s even more ridiculous than the idea of dating Lionel.”

  “I’m serious. Most of your time is occupied either by work or the golf club. You’ll never meet someone new if you don’t move out of your comfort zone. If internet dating is not your thing, how about going on an organised trip, or a cruise? There must be dozens of travel companies who cater to people in your exact situation. The grey pound is big these days.” He grinned at her.

  Diane waved off his suggestion. “I told Isabelle I might go to Florida with her next time she flies over. Maybe I can meet a rich American retiree when I’m there. And that’s the end of this conversation.”

  Timothy picked up the teapot and refilled their cups.

  “I have made a new friend,” Diane said. “Or at least I think we’re becoming friends. It’s Tamsin, the new pro at the club.”

  “Oh yes,” Timothy said. “Dad mentioned there was a new professional starting soon. How is she?”

  “She’s very nice,” Diane replied, her lips expanding into a smile. “I took a lesson with her yesterday. I already feel like I’ll be able to lower my handicap very soon.”

  “After one lesson?” Timothy looked slightly incredulous. “Now that would be efficient teaching.”

  “Anyway, I talked to her quite a bit at the season opening dinner.” Diane chuckled. “Old Lionel tried to make a pass at her after dinner.”

  “Oh no, competition for you.”

  “Stop it,” Diane said. “Anyway, from what I hear,
she wouldn’t be interested in Lionel, him being a man.” She paused. “On a more serious note, have you spoken to Rob recently? He must be cut up that Matthew didn’t get accepted to the club.”

  “Rob tried to call me a few days ago,” Timothy said, “but I missed his call. I was thinking of going over tomorrow, since I’m in the area.” He sighed. “That’s really terrible. I know the club’s old-fashioned and traditional and all that, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” He thought for a few seconds. “Is there anything we can do? Is there some kind of appeal procedure?”

  “I don’t think so,” Diane said. “He’ll probably need to wait until the next application period and try again. Which I’m not sure he’ll do. Tynebury might have been Rob’s home club since he was a child, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to find somewhere else that will accept them both, gay or not. And the RTGC really shouldn’t drive away its younger members.”

  “Very true,” Timothy said. He put down his cup on the tray and stood up. “On that note, I think I’ll go see if Lucy has settled in. I’m pretty knackered.”

  Diane stood as well and embraced her son. “Sleep well, darling. Thank you for making me so happy tonight.”

  Chapter Six

  “How are things in the countryside?” Eve asked.

  “Green,” Tamsin said. “And spacious.” To her sister, her move away from London had been rather abrupt. “Bramble loves it.”

  “How about you?” They sat on Eve’s tiny balcony—if you could even call it that, enjoying what they could make out of the sunset in between the high-rise buildings.

  “I’m getting used to it. The club’s nice.” Tamsin sipped from her gin and tonic. Eve always used Hendrick’s gin and topped it off with an elaborately carved slice of cucumber. “I’ve given some lessons already. Darren, the old pro, will be retiring soon. It’s all looking pretty good.”

  “Not much chance for love in a village like that, though.” Eve and her husband James had helped move Tamsin’s belongings from her tiny flat in Croydon, on the outskirts of London, to the cottage in Tynebury.

  “You never know.” Tamsin smiled at her sister. “We are many and we are everywhere these days.”

  “Is that why you came all the way to London to go on a date?”

  “I came to London to see my sister,” Tamsin said. “The date tomorrow is just… I don’t know. Something I might as well try while I’m here.”

  “Thus proving my point,” Eve said. “Tell me about this date, then. Is she of age?”

  Tamsin shook her head. She guessed she deserved some snark from her sister. “She’s in her late twenties.” She fished her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll show you a picture.”

  “Late twenties?” Eve rolled her eyes. “Are there no available lesbians in their late thirties? This is London, for crying out loud.”

  “Here.” Tamsin ignored Eve’s outcry. “Cute, right?” Andi’s profile picture had immediately jumped out at Tamsin last week, when she’d been ‘consulting’ Tinder. She had long blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a constellation of adorable freckles on her nose.

  “Late twenties,” Eve repeated. “I don’t think so. She looks to be more in her early twenties, perhaps even late teens.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Tamsin said.

  “As if no one ever lies on their Tinder profile.” Eve put her glass down. “You won’t want to hear this, but in that picture, Andi is the spitting image of Ellen.”

  “So, I have a type. What’s wrong with that?” Tamsin sipped from her drink to hide her agitation.

  “I just think you’d have more chance at a successful relationship if you tried dating someone closer to your own age.”

  “James is ten years older than you,” Tamsin said.

  “Exactly. Ten, not twenty. It makes a world of difference.”

  “Andi’s only ten years younger than me.” Tamsin knew her sister meant well—she had to admit she didn’t have the best relationship track record.

  “So she says.” Eve sighed. “And what if you miraculously hit it off? Are you going to do long-distance with a woman who’s at a totally different stage in her life than you?”

  “Hold your horses, Evie. It’s just a first date.”

  “Do you want my honest opinion?” They were waiting for James to bring home a takeaway and were on their second drink.

  “You’re asking me now?” Tamsin grinned.

  “I sometimes think you subconsciously choose women you don’t really have a future with.”

  “Been watching Oprah again, have you?”

  “I’m serious, Taz. You always date these twenty-somethings. But you seem to forget that you aren’t in your twenties anymore. In fact, we’ll both be forty soon.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Tamsin drank again.

  “It’s kind of a big thing for me as well.”

  “Why? You have everything to be a happy forty-year-old.” Tamsin couldn’t help but compare herself to her twin, but their lives had always been vastly different. And Tamsin had taken a big step when she’d decided to go for that job in Tynebury—and move away from the city.

  Eve rolled her eyes again. “It’s not about having things. It’s about balance.”

  “And your point is?” Tamsin saw her sister as the very picture of balance.

  “No one has it together all the time. Not even me.”

  “I didn’t say you had, but you’re pretty happy, aren’t you? You don’t have too many regrets?”

  “I have a good life, but there’s always room for improvement.”

  “Maybe you should move to the country. I know this cute little village about an hour and a half away from London. You have family there.”

  “And have James leave the city?” Eve shook her head.

  “I’m not so sure,” Tamsin said. “When he helped with the move, I could see some appreciation in his eyes for my new surroundings.”

  “Maybe for a weekend away.”

  “Quite a few people do the commute and what with all the working from home these days.”

  “He’s forbidden to work from home. I already work from home.” Eve grinned. “This is my territory!”

  The intercom buzzed. “Speak of the devil.” Eve rose. “He’s probably forgotten his keys again.” She headed inside to buzz in her husband.

  Ten minutes later, the three of them sat huddled over plates of butter chicken and garlic naan. Tamsin had missed a good takeaway. She was lucky to find an open supermarket past 6PM in Tynebury.

  “Your sister-in-law has a hot date tomorrow,” Eve said, with obvious glee in her tone.

  “It’s just coffee,” Tamsin said. She fought the urge to kick her sister in the shins underneath the table—she’d done plenty of that when they were younger.

  “Coffee can go a long way,” James said, in his typically amiable James way. Tamsin couldn’t imagine her sister being with a nicer man.

  “I’ll keep you both posted,” Tamsin said, even though she had no intention of doing so. She needed to meet Andi first.

  Tamsin stared into her coffee cup. She and Andi seemed to have already run out of topics of conversation. The main reason, Tamsin realised, was that Andi didn’t know the first thing about golf. The only thing she’d said about it, after Tamsin had told her what she did for a living, was, “Isn’t that a sport for old farts?” Granted, the grin on her face when she’d said it had been adorable, but Tamsin needed a little more to work with than that.

  Her sister’s words rang in her ears. We’ll both be forty soon.

  “Have you seen the latest Avengers movie?” Andi asked, breaking the silence. “Maybe we can go see that.”

  Ellen had been more a rom-com kind of girl, eschewing superhero movies, for which Tamsin had been glad. What was she doing comparing Andi to Ellen, anyway? She shouldn’t be looking for a replacement Ellen. She truly believed she hadn’t been. She’d set the search parameters on Tinder so that no one younger than twenty-seven would show up. Ellen had
been twenty-six. Tamsin inwardly cursed her own silliness—she’d only gone and fooled herself again.

  “I’m not sure going to the movies is such a good idea, after all,” Tamsin said.

  “Oh,” Andi said.

  Tamsin wondered if that was genuine disappointment crossing her face or if she was just a good actress.

  “Let a girl down easy, why don’t you?” Andi offered a smile.

  “Look, Andi, it’s not you. From what I can tell, you’re a lovely girl. But I just got out of something… rather painful. Perhaps I’ve put myself out there too soon.” And I’m twelve years older than you and live in Tynebury. She hadn’t been entirely honest in her Tinder profile. It still stated she lived in London. She hadn’t had the heart to tell Andi that she’d recently moved to the countryside. The date was cringe-worthy enough as it was.

  “I get it.” Andi flipped her long hair back with a practiced gesture. “Maybe in a few months, eh?”

  “Maybe.” Tamsin gave her a wide smile. Next time she went on Tinder, if she ever did again, Tamsin would narrow her search to ensure any future dates lived closer to her new location. Not that she expected to find many women of her persuasion in a twenty-mile radius around Tynebury.

  Tamsin rose and leaned over to kiss Andi on the cheek. “It was lovely to meet you,” she said.

  Andi didn’t respond.

  “Bye, then,” Tamsin said, and exited the coffee shop. She hadn’t picked it and, truth be told, she’d felt a little out of place among the hipsters with their MacBooks, manbuns, and trendy clothing.

  Maybe she had reached that age, where she couldn’t pass for someone ten years her junior any longer. Until she’d moved to Tynebury, Tamsin had dressed like the people in that coffee shop, but her choice of what to wear had altered along with her change in location. An image of how Diane Thompson had been dressed at the golf club’s opening dinner popped into her head. Whether she liked it or not, that was the crowd she was mingling with most these days.