“How about you show me a swing,” Tamsin said. “See how far you can hit the ball.”

Diane looked like a natural in her golf outfit, as if she’d been doing this all her life. She probably had. She wore a bright orange polo shirt and a pair of navy-blue trousers. Her golf bag was perched on an electric cart.

Tamsin had taught a lesson to ‘the trollop’ the day before and, although she’d been dressed in similar garments, Debbie didn’t come near the effortless elegance of Diane.

Diane selected a seven iron and positioned herself for her swing. Tamsin studied her movement as she hit the ball.

“Can you do that a few more times, please?” she asked.

Diane didn’t say anything; she just focused on hitting the balls. Tamsin had looked up her profile on the club’s internal website, as she did with everyone who booked a lesson, and she had learned that Diane Thompson’s handicap was a very respectable thirteen.

“I’m impressed,” Tamsin said. “You get a really good length with that seven iron.” She took a step closer. “Do you mind if I show you a little trick to get your direction more consistent?”

“That’s what the lesson is for, isn’t it?” Diane grinned, her eyes sparkling as she did.

“Indeed.” Tamsin stood behind Diane. This was always a little bit awkward with new pupils, but she was a teacher and, sometimes, there was no other way to demonstrate something. She put her hands on Diane’s arms and pulled them up slightly so her hands held the club a little higher. “Can you feel how this straightens your legs?” Tamsin asked.

“Yes,” Diane said.

Tamsin let go of her. “Keep that position.” She crouched down to tee up a ball. “And try another swing.”

Tamsin watched Diane’s improved form. It was only the tiniest of changes, but they were what made the difference in golf.

“How did that feel?” she asked.

“Like I could hit a little better.” Diane painted on a satisfied smile.

“You have a natural draw in your shots, which you should always take into account,” Tamsin said.

Diane nodded. “I’ve missed many a hole-in-one because of it,” she joked.

They worked on Diane’s swing for the rest of the lesson. Tamsin hadn’t taught many lessons at her new club yet, but from the few pupils she’d had, Diane was definitely top of the class. She had a confidence about her that came from having played the game all of her life. Tamsin had also gleaned from the club’s website that Diane had won quite a few club championships, although her winning streak had ended a few years ago.

When they came to the end of their lesson, Diane said, “I couldn’t help but notice when you showed me your calendar the other day that you were due to have a lesson with Debbie Stamp.”

“The woman of the t-word,” Tamsin said, allowing herself this inside joke with Diane—even though it was extremely unprofessional.

Diane nodded, her lips curved into a lopsided grin. “Do you think she’s close to getting her handicap yet?”

Tamsin pursed her lips. “I think it’ll be a while.”

“Good.” They walked to the clubhouse together. “Do you have time for a coffee?” Diane asked.

“When you inadvertently glanced at my calendar, you may have also seen that it’s still quite empty,” Tamsin said. “I have all the time in the world.”

They sat by one of the large windows overlooking the putting green. Tamsin had chosen coffee, whereas Diane had claimed she deserved a glass of wine after her lesson.

“How long have you been a member here?” Tamsin asked.

“All my life,” Diane said. “My parents were members.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m the one who got Lawrence in and what thanks do I get? Him ushering in his younger model.” Diane took a sip of wine. “I’m sorry, you must think I’m still very bitter about the divorce, while I’m really not.” She lifted a finger. “But I am still very much riled-up about Debbie being allowed to join. Not only because the committee decided against Matthew joining, but also because this club has always been a refuge for me. After my divorce, I came here a lot so that I could forget about the whole mess. For a while, Lawrence felt too guilty to show his face much, what with having turned into such an utter middle-aged cliché.” Diane shrugged. “But now Debbie has invaded this part of my life as well, while all I want to do is pretend she doesn’t exist.”

“That must be hard.” Tamsin wasn’t new to pupils baring their soul to her. When you spent a lot of one-on-one time with someone, it happened quite naturally.

“It is what it is, of course.” Diane leaned back in her chair and stared out of the window. “I’ve no choice but to accept it.”

“If it’s any consolation”—Tamsin leaned over the table—“from what I’ve seen, there’s not much chance Debbie will ever become a great golfer.”

“That is a consolation.” Diane dragged her gaze away from the window. Her grey-blue eyes landed on Tamsin. “Thank you.”

“This is strictly between us, of course,” Tamsin whispered.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Diane narrowed her eyes, as though she was going to say something else, but she must have thought twice about it, because silence fell between them.

“Can you put me in for another lesson for the same time next week?” Diane asked after a while.

“With great pleasure.”

Diane gave her a wide smile. It reminded her about what Ellen had once said about Tamsin’s. Your smile can light up the darkest room. For once in her life Tamsin had really—really—liked someone. She’d known the significant age gap between them wasn’t ideal, and that their affair perhaps didn’t stand a lot of chance, but that was for Ellen and her to figure out, not for Ellen’s father to put a very offended stop to.

Maybe it was time she started dating again. Put the past well and truly behind her.

“Something on your mind?” Diane asked. “You look completely lost in thought.”

“Just thinking about how to improve your game. Do you want to work on anything specific?”

“Well, I’d say let’s get my handicap down, but it’s been going up steadily for the past decade so I guess that’s out of the question.” Her gaze held Tamsin’s for a split second. “A bit like my weight, actually.” She belted out a brash, loud cackle of a laugh. “And, inevitably, my age.” She reached for her wine glass again. “I’m turning fifty-five next year, in case you’re wondering.”

“Let me give you a dash of hope,” Tamsin said. “I’ve been doing this job for a while now, and I’ve seen many women in their fifties improve their handicap. Not by a great margin, but it can be done. The downward spiral doesn’t have to continue.” Tamsin wanted to add that Diane looked in great shape for her age, but she didn’t want to sound patronising.

“I’m suddenly very glad that Darren’s retiring,” Diane said. “I get nothing but good news from you.”

“You’re the one who has to put in the work.” Tamsin used her stern coach’s voice.

“I practically live at this club. I have more meals here than I do at my own home.” She tapped a fingertip against her glass. “And more drinks as well.” Another one of her smiles.

“Are you retired?” Tamsin figured they’d reached a stage where she could ask a more personal question.

“No, I still work part-time.” Diane twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers. “I go to the office most mornings. I own an accountancy firm. I can’t really see myself actually retiring any time soon. I can hardly play golf all the time.”

“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.