A Swing at Love Read online

  Tamsin immediately stood up. “It’s my turn. Same again?”

  “But—”

  Tamsin held up her hand. “No arguments. But I will expect permission to ask you my own probing questions.” She strode off towards the bar.

  As before at the club, Diane found herself staring at Tamsin’s retreating figure with more intent than expected. While she was waiting for the bartender to pour the drinks, Tamsin turned around and their eyes locked. The look on Tamsin’s face was slightly mischievous—at least to Diane.

  Tamsin returned with the two glasses and deposited one in front of Diane. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” Diane said, holding up her glass for Tamsin to clink hers against. “I truly didn’t mean to be so inquisitive before. I think I’ve been alone for so long now that I find other people’s relationships and dating adventures much more interesting than I should.”

  “So you’re just very nosy?” Tamsin said.

  Diane nodded. “It’s true. But I have an excuse. I’m going to be a grandmother soon, and a tendency to stick one’s nose into everyone’s business is kind of expected of grandmothers, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Oh Diane, that’s great news,” Tamsin said. “Although you don’t look nearly old enough to be a grandmother, so I don’t think you can use that as an excuse for anything.” Her lips were pulled into a wide grin.

  “Thank you, I think,” Diane said. “I’m very happy. Timothy only told me a few days ago. But, truth be told, I can’t really associate the title of grandmother with myself just yet.”

  “So,” Tamsin sat up a bit straighter, “now that we’ve switched the conversation to you, it’s my turn to ask some probing questions.” She tilted her head slightly, as if she was evaluating how to approach a task.

  “Ask away,” Diane quipped. “I’ll try to give you the most honest and grandmotherly answer I can.”

  “How long ago did you get divorced?” Tamsin asked the question Diane was expecting.

  “Five years ago.” Diane looked down at her hands that were fidgeting with the edge of her blouse. “It’s kind of ridiculous how stereotypical the whole thing was. Middle-aged man falls in love with hot young thing at the office. They have an affair behind his wife’s back for a while, until the young mistress gives the man an ultimatum: leave the wife or be cut off from the constant supply of exciting and adventurous sex she provides. Not a very hard choice to make for a man in the throes of a mid-life crisis.” Diane looked up again into Tamsin’s kind face. “Those were not Lawrence’s exact words, but that’s what I understood from them.”

  Tamsin looked at her sympathetically. “I’m very sorry you had to go through that. Having to see him with Debbie at the club must be so hard, as well. Did you not feel like leaving, finding a new place to play?”

  “I thought about it for a while,” Diane said softly. “I even stayed away for a couple of months. But then I realised leaving the club would be admitting defeat in some way. I had already lost my husband and the life I knew and loved. I was not going to lose my circle of friends as well. So I stayed.”

  “I think you were very brave to do that.” Tamsin held up her glass again. “To being brave,” she said.

  “Admittedly, Isabelle had a big part in helping me reach that decision. She was an invaluable source of support through the whole ordeal. So I’ll drink to her.” Diane held up her glass as well.

  “To Isabelle then.” Tamsin took a sip from her wine. “Can I ask another question?”

  “Of course,” Diane gazed at Tamsin. She didn’t seem to be affected by the generous amount of wine they had already consumed. Diane, on the other hand, could not deny the pleasant tipsiness she felt.

  “Have you been with anyone since the divorce? Gone on any dates?”

  Diane smiled. The question was not unexpected considering the topic of conversation. “I haven’t,” she said. “Timothy and I talked about this just the other day. He said I should go on a cruise or some kind of group trip for mature singles.” Diane scoffed. “He even suggested I sign up for a dating site. Can you imagine: me, a soon-to-be granny, on Timber, or whatever it’s called?”

  Tamsin let out a yelp. “Do you mean Tinder? There are loads of eligible bachelors your age on there.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Diane said, “but they’re all looking for women half their age.” She squinted at Tamsin. “Are you on Tinder? Is that how you know who’s on there?”

  Tamsin seemed a little flustered at Diane’s question. “Er, yes, I do have a Tinder profile. Not that I would have encountered any middle-aged men on there, since I only checked the box for women when I signed up.”

  Diane pondered this. She had so many questions for Tamsin. She decided to start at the beginning. “Have you always known you were attracted to women?”

  “For as long as I can remember. As soon as my girlfriends at school started talking about boys and kissing them, I knew boys weren’t for me. I only wanted to kiss my friend Nicole, so that was that.”

  “I kissed a girl once,” Diane blurted out. Damn that wine.

  Tamsin brought her hand to her mouth in shock, but Diane could see the amusement in her eyes. “You did? Tell me all about it.”

  “That too was a perfect cliché.” Diane chuckled. “I was at an all-girls boarding school. We were sixteen and wanted to practice for when we’d meet the boys from the neighbouring all-boys school at the yearly dance.”

  Diane fell silent as her mind travelled back to that afternoon, sitting on her bed with her roommate Fiona. They had practiced on their forearms first, before bringing their mouths together for a chaste kiss. After a few of those Fiona had suggested they open their mouths. Diane remembered the sensation of butterflies being released in her tummy as Fiona’s tongue had tentatively made contact with hers. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  A cough brought her out of her reverie before the memory of the kiss could make way for the memory of what had happened after it. Tamsin was watching her with an amused expression on her face. “I’m guessing it was not an unpleasant experience, judging by the smile on your lips just now.”

  Diane’s cheeks started to burn. “It was such a long time ago; I can hardly remember.” She should stop drinking now. The wine was clearly causing her brain to play tricks on her. As she was replaying that adolescent kiss in her mind, the image of Fiona had blurred and gradually morphed into someone else. Tamsin. And the butterflies she’d remembered were now fluttering about inside her as she sat across from Tamsin.

  Tamsin stayed quiet, but her expression showed she knew there was something going on.

  “I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink,” Diane said, putting her glass down on the table. If she wanted to make a somewhat elegant retreat before she embarrassed herself any more, now was the time to do so. “Thank you for the wine.” She stood and gave Tamsin a small smile. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Diane,” Tamsin said, a puzzled look on her face.

  As Diane hurried to her room, she tried to reassure herself that it was just the wine that had caused Tamsin to appear in her memory of the kiss. But somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling that the wine had only played a small part.

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as she opened her eyes, Tamsin brought her hands to her head. That Portuguese wine she’d indulged in the night before might have been delicious, but it was leaving some very painful reminders this morning. Her thoughts wandered to Diane. How was she feeling this morning? She’d soon find out at breakfast.

  Spring was well on its way and rays of morning sun slanted in through the gap in the curtains. Tamsin forced herself out of bed and glanced outside the window. Her room overlooked the golf course and, at the sight of it, her heart filled with joy, erasing part of her hangover instantly.

  What she’d told Diane last night about loving her job hadn’t been an exaggeration. Tamsin had always wanted to be a teacher, but she’d never dreamed she could become a golf pr
o. Yet, here she was. Overlooking a beautiful Portuguese golf course on a gorgeous spring morning. This was her work—her life.

  Her thoughts drifted back to Diane, who had been more than candid—and surprisingly understanding about Ellen. Tamsin looked forward to confiding in her again. Even though Tamsin was a people person, it wasn’t often that she met someone she so instantly clicked with. Someone with whom she could spend an evening drinking wine.

  She had a private chuckle at Diane’s confession about having kissed a classmate in boarding school. Tamsin herself had kissed many a girl during her school years. The main difference was that Tamsin had never stopped kissing girls.

  She hopped into the shower and got ready for breakfast, and another full day of golf and sunshine.

  Tamsin was just making a mess of removing the top from a soft-boiled egg when Isabelle turned up.

  “Morning,” she said, her voice overly cheerful.

  “Good morning, Isabelle. Did you sleep well?” Tamsin nodded at the empty seat opposite her.

  Isabelle pulled back the chair and sat down. Her bottom had barely touched the seat when a waiter turned up to ask if she wanted coffee or tea with her breakfast.

  Isabelle ordered ‘strong tea’, then looked at Tamsin. “You know how it is the first night in a strange bed.” She held her hand in front of her mouth as she suppressed a yawn. “And Diane’s drunk snoring didn’t help.” She inclined her head. “How many bottles of that wine did you knock back?” Her lips curved into a smile.

  “Just a few glasses.” She smiled back at Isabelle. “Should I take her up some ibuprofen?”

  “She’ll be all right. Things are just going a bit slower for her this morning.” Isabelle chuckled. “She’d kill me if she knew I was telling you this, by the way. As far as you know, Diane jumped out of bed this morning, fresh as a daisy.”

  “Just like I did,” Tamsin said. “No wine for me tonight.”

  “May we join you?” Maggie and Barbara had materialised next to their table.

  “Of course,” Tamsin said. The waiter came by again and Tamsin focused some more on beheading her egg.

  The ladies chattered among themselves, trying to engage Tamsin in their conversations as much as possible. As Tamsin dipped a crust of bread into the soft egg yolk, she believed her future at the RTGB looked far rosier than it had done at her previous club.

  The ladies were playing a complete 18-hole round that morning. Tamsin had waited for Diane to turn up, but she’d missed the last possible tee time Tamsin could give her.

  She asked Isabelle which room they were in and decided to check up on her.

  Tamsin knocked on the door gently, but no response came. She knocked a second time with a bit more force.

  “Diane. It’s Tamsin,” she said, hoping Diane could hear her.

  There was some shuffling on the other side of the door, then a bang, followed by a muffled, “Damn it.”

  The door opened a crack, Diane’s face appearing in it.

  “Morning,” Tamsin said. “Are you not joining us?”

  “Good god, Tamsin.” Diane briefly blinked her eyes shut. “I thought I was fine.” She opened the door a little wider. “I was all dressed and ready to go, but then I got this dizzy spell. I decided to have a bit more of a lie-down.”

  “A dizzy spell?” Tamsin scrutinised Diane’s face. Her eyes were small, their gaze unfocused. “Do you need a doctor?”

  “For a hangover?” Diane managed a lighter version of her loud cackle of a laugh. “I don’t think so.” She opened the door all the way. “I was just about to order some room service. Do you want to come in for a coffee on the balcony?”

  Tamsin looked at her watch. The others were on the course and it would be at least two hours before the first ones finished. “Why not?”

  After Diane placed the call to room service, she joined Tamsin on the balcony.

  “If you crane your neck like this, you can see some of the ladies on the green of the seventh,” Tamsin said. “That makes me feel less guilty for sitting here on my backside with you.”

  “You’re sort of watching them,” Diane said, with a snicker. “What more can be expected of you?”

  “Maggie has booked me for a lesson this afternoon,” Tamsin said.

  “You’re looking after me now,” Diane said.

  “All in a day’s work.” Tamsin glanced at her. The light caught in her blonde highlights. Under the glaring light of the sun, Diane looked a little worse for wear. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Better, and after a good pot of coffee I might feel completely like myself again.” Just then, the bell rang.

  “Why don’t I get that?” Tamsin rose and took possession of the tray which carried a large French press and two cups.

  She brought them out onto the balcony and poured them each a cup.

  “Thank you.” Diane locked her gaze with hers for a split second—her eyes were a peculiar kind of light blue-grey—and smiled. “Also for checking on me.”

  “Well, if you look at it the other way, I’m partly responsible for your hungover state this morning, so it’s the least I can do.”

  “You bought the first drink.” Diane sipped from her coffee and her face visibly relaxed. “But that doesn’t make you responsible, although I’d be more than glad to shift the blame on you.”

  “It was the first evening of your holiday and you’d won a very important competition. There’s no blame to be cast here.” Tamsin smiled as she drank from her coffee. She wasn’t a connoisseur by a long shot, but she recognised a good cup of coffee when she came across it. This one was certainly doing the trick.

  “I had a good time, though.” Diane painted on a grin. “You’re so much more fun than Darren.”

  “Did Darren join the Ladies’ trip?” Tamsin asked.

  “Goodness no.” There was mock-outrage in Diane’s voice. “The poor man would have been clobbered to death with attention from the widows and divorcees.” She chuckled. “All joking aside, the club is quite traditional like that. I don’t suppose you’ve been asked to join the Gentlemen’s trip to the South of France next month?”

  “I suggested going along, but the club secretary advised against it.”

  Diane shook her head. “It’s so silly, I mean, what with you, um, being a lesbian.”

  Tamsin burst out laughing. “Indeed it is. But don’t worry, I haven’t had any indecent proposals yet.”

  “This trip has only just started. Wait until the last evening. I suspect that’s when a few of the ladies will make their move.”

  Tamsin joined Diane in her raucous laughter. “This is probably very indiscreet and do tell me if I’m out of bounds, but are any of the ladies on this trip not heterosexual?” Tamsin didn’t quite know why she used the phrasing ‘not heterosexual’ while she could have just asked if any of them were lesbian or bisexual. It was something about the vibe in traditional golf clubs that made even Tamsin—who’d been out and proud for a good many years—use flowery language.

  Diane’s eyes grew wide. She obviously hadn’t expected the question. Were her cheeks growing pink? “Not as far as I know.” She regrouped. “There must be a few lesbians amongst the younger members, I’m sure, but not amongst this lot. That I know of, at least.” A sparkle shone in her eyes. “Well, there have been rumours about Barbara because that’s just what happens when a woman never marries and is never seen with a male companion.”

  Tamsin pictured Barbara. Next time she spoke to her, she’d try to scout for a vibe—a ping on her gaydar.

  All of a sudden they heard a clattering in the trees between the course and the hotel grounds, and saw a ball land on the grass, a few yards away from the hotel.

  “Goodness me,” Diane said. “What’s that ball doing there?”

  “The dangers of having a room with a view over the course,” Tamsin said. “Someone must have seriously mishit.”

  A couple of minutes later Maggie emerged from the trees, in search of the
wayward ball.

  “Maggie,” Diane shouted, “it’s closer to the building.”

  “Hello, ladies of leisure,” Maggie said, waving at them. “Life’s all right for some.”

  “How’s it going?” Diane asked.

  “This course is so beautiful, Diane,” Maggie said. Barbara had just caught up with her.

  Tamsin looked at her with different eyes. Of course, in a golf outfit, anyone could look like a lesbian. She’d long ago learned it wasn’t about clothes or hairstyles or anything you could spot on the outside. She made a mental note to keep an eye on Barbara for the rest of this trip, and resist making any further assumptions.

  “Diane, you lazy arse,” Barbara said. “I can’t believe you’re sitting there drinking coffee. This is a golf trip, for heaven’s sake, not a sit on your backside and drink coffee trip. Come down and enjoy the sunshine.”

  “She’s right,” Tamsin said. “How about we go to the practice grounds and work on your bunker shots while we wait for the others to finish?”

  Chapter Eleven

  On the last night of the trip all the ladies were having dinner together on the hotel terrace. Large platters of seafood were placed in the middle of the two tables they occupied.

  “Ouch,” Isabelle exclaimed. “I think this langoustine is still alive, it’s fighting so hard against being peeled.”

  Diane laughed. “You’re just afraid of damaging your manicure.” That morning Isabelle had declared she’d had enough of playing golf, after three days of it, and she’d gone off for a day of pampering at the hotel spa.

  “Of course I am,” Isabelle said. “Aren’t my nails pretty?” She held out her hands in front of Diane again.

  “Yes, yes, dear.” Diane patted her arm. “For the fifth time, your nails look exquisite.”

  The sound of a piece of cutlery being tapped against a glass interrupted their banter.