Tamsin hurried out of the ladies’ room and into the grand dining room. Long tables were set with folded name cards next to the plates. Good. She wouldn’t have to scour for a seat—all she’d have to manage was to find her assigned spot. A wooden lectern displayed the seating plan. A crowd huddled around it, so Tamsin waited and cast her glance over her new place of employment. This evening might be just a dinner, but to Tamsin it was as nerve-racking as the first day on a new job. So many unknown people, so many names and faces to put together and remember.

The crowd at the lectern had dispersed and Tamsin scanned the large piece of paper for her name. Now all she had to do was locate the table. A few people were already sitting there. They probably all knew each other—but mingling with the members was part of her job.

She walked over to her table and spotted the friendly lady who had shown her where the bathroom was earlier. She smiled and found her seat, right next to her.

“Hi,” the woman said, extending her hand, “Diane Thompson.”

“Tamsin Foxley.” Tamsin shook the woman’s hand. Her grip was firm. Her blue-eyed gaze on Tamsin unwavering.

“Lovely to meet you, Tamsin,” Diane said. “You must be one of the new members.” She smiled apologetically. “I arrived late so I missed the introductions.”

“I’m the new club pro, actually,” Tamsin said. “I’ll be replacing Darren when he leaves in a few weeks.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Diane said, turning towards her more. “My game’s always a bit rusty after the winter break. I must book some lessons.” Diane pushed her glasses up her nose.

Tamsin felt a little under-dressed next to her, but she’d never really been one to dress up.

“Of course. That would be lovely,” Tamsin said.

“Diane, how are you?” An elderly man had approached and put his hands briefly on Diane’s shoulders. “I believe you’re stuck with me for the evening.” He pulled back the chair on the other side of Diane.

“Have you met our new pro, Reg?” Diane said.

Tamsin repeated the motions she’d gone through many a time since she’d arrived at the club: shaking hands, smiling broadly, and replying to chit-chat.

Reg kept Diane engaged in conversation for a while. Tamsin was relieved she’d been seated next to someone as welcoming as Diane. If the opening dinners of her previous club were anything to go by, they’d be stuck with each other for a few hours.

Tamsin picked up the menu card that stood in front of her plate. Smoked salmon as a starter and steak for mains. The number of times she’d had a similar meal at a golf club. She smiled inwardly. Golfs clubs were not known for grand innovations and any change—even to the menu—was always slow.

“Which club were you with before?” Diane had turned to her again. She gave Tamsin a warm smile.

“Chalstone,” Tamsin said, a pang of regret shooting through her.

“Any particular reason you left?” Diane inquired.

“I was in dire need of a change of scenery.” She sent Diane a wide smile. Tamsin was eager to keep the real reason she left—or rather, had been forced to leave—under wraps.

Diane nodded thoughtfully. “Do you live nearby?” She took a sip of the white wine that had just been poured.

“I found a place on the outskirts of the village,” Tamsin said. She looked at the glass in front of her but left it alone for now. She’d had two glasses of Champagne already and, unlike most of the other guests, she wasn’t here to relax tonight. “Very quiet and green.” Tamsin had fallen in love with the small cottage, which was modest, but stretched her rental budget considerably nonetheless. Even though Tynebury was a good number of miles from London, it was still a commutable distance to the capital.

“Welcome to the club and the village, then.” Diane lifted her glass.

Tamsin mirrored her action. They clinked rims. “Are you joining the Ladies’ trip to Portugal next month?” Tamsin asked.

“Oh, yes.” The skin around Diane’s eyes crinkled when she smiled. “I’m looking forward to it greatly. Winter has been long. I need a good dose of vitamin D.”

“And an equally good dose of golf, I hope.” Tamsin attempted a joke.

“That goes without saying.” Diane drank again, then set her glass down. “I do miss playing during the off season.” Her gaze on Tamsin was kind. “I should book those lessons before the trip, by the way. I hope your calendar’s not too full yet.”

“I’m sure I can squeeze you in.” Tamsin’s calendar was still very empty. She wanted—needed—to teach as many classes as she possibly could.

Diane’s eyes locked on a woman strutting past their table. When she glanced back at Tamsin, the kindness in her eyes had disappeared.

“That woman,” Diane said with utter contempt in her voice. She straightened her spine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Debbie?” Tamsin inquired. She’d been introduced to Debbie earlier, who had promptly also inquired about lessons.

“It’s just so unfair.” Diane leaned in Tamsin’s direction. Tamsin caught a whiff of her flowery perfume. “Since you’ll be working here, you might as well learn about the medieval politics of this club.” She shook her head. “My good friend Isabelle’s gay son-in-law has been refused membership, while my ex-husband’s trollop of a wife has been accepted,” she whispered. “Sadly this club has not yet entered the twenty-first century, I can assure you of that.”

Tamsin momentarily stiffened at the mention of the word gay. She reached for her glass of wine so she had some time to regroup. “That’s simply appalling.”

“It is, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure Matthew gets accepted next year. What is this? The middle ages?”

“I sure hope not.” Tamsin was distracted by a bunch of waiting staff milling about. The starters were being served. With that, Reg engaged Diane in conversation again, and Tamsin was left in welcome silence to ponder the information she’d just received.

Tamsin scanned the improvised dance floor. She wasn’t much of a dancer and she preferred leaning against the bar, letting her gaze wander. Dinner had gone well, largely thanks to her welcoming neighbour. More people had come up to her after dinner to introduce themselves and enquire about lessons. She knew from experience, however, that members of these old, traditional golf clubs were always very welcoming at first, brimming with courtesy and warm smiles, but it was only the thinnest veneer that hid the true nature of some.

A man sidled up to her. “How are you holding up?” She recognised him as Lionel, who had sat at the far end of her table, which, Diane had revealed near the end of the meal, was dubbed the ‘singles’ table’.

“Just fine, thanks.”

Lionel had loosened his tie and his eyes were glazed over.

Tamsin took a small step away, not that she considered him in any condition to take a subtle hint.

“You’ll find us a lovely, civilised bunch.” He all but slurred his words.

Yeah right. Like the lot at my previous club.

“I’m sure you all are.” Tamsin had little choice but to oblige him.

“I hear you’re renting the Andersons’ cottage,” Lionel said. “Is it just you there or do you have a husband and some kids running around?”

How quickly word spread in villages—and clubs—like this. Of course, the Andersons were members here as well. Any newcomer would have tongues wagging. She knew how this worked.

“Just me and Bramble, my dog,” she said. Bramble had acclimatised to the cottage and its surroundings instantly. Tamsin adored the cottage but knew she would need a little longer to adapt to everything else.

Lionel took a step closer again. “We’ll have to make sure you don’t get too lonely over there then.” Lionel tried a smile but the corners of his mouth seemed too lazy to quirk all the way up.

Tamsin thought it best to not dignify that with an answer. She looked at the dance floor again. Diane was chatting to a woman at the edge of the bopping crowd. She didn’t seem like much of a dancer either. Of all the people who had inquired about lessons tonight, Tamsin looked forward to teaching Diane the most. They’d spent the most time together, so it was only logical. She didn’t much look forward to teaching Debbie—what had Diane called her again. A trollop? Tamsin snickered inwardly, careful not to show any outward signs of her glee, lest Lionel believed she was actually enjoying their conversation.

Diane must have felt Tamsin’s gaze on her because she looked in her direction and gave her a wave. Her gaze lingered, then meandered to the person next to Tamsin. She rolled her eyes.

Emboldened by Diane’s small display of sympathy at being stuck with a drunken Lionel, Tamsin said, “Please excuse me.” She turned away from him, only to be accosted as soon as she rounded the corner of the bar by another member in dire need of golf lessons.