“Ladies, if you could all grab your suitcase from the bus.” Suzanna, the Lady Captain of RTGC yelled at the group of chattering ladies assembled in front of the entrance to Hotel do Golf in Vilamoura. “Leave your golf bags, as these will be driven straight to the club ready for us this afternoon.”

Diane waited her turn until she could grab her small suitcase from the bus’s luggage compartment. She didn’t envy Suzanna her leadership position on this trip. They had only just flown out this morning and already she’d had to repeatedly yell instructions and recover a few women who had wandered off on the way to the boarding gate, as if she were herding a flock of wild sheep.

When everyone had retrieved their luggage they made their way into the hotel lobby.

“Maggie,” Suzanna called. “You’re with Judy, room 327. Here are your keys. Go up to your room to settle in, then meet us back here at noon for lunch.”

“Diane and Isabelle,” Suzanna turned to them. “Here are your keys, you’re the only ones on the first floor. May I repeat what I wrote in my email: please try to keep the noise level to a minimum. We don’t want a repeat of last year’s trip to Spain, or I’ll have to separate you.” She eyed them with a stern look.

Diane and Isabelle kept a straight face. Last year’s Ladies’ trip to Spain had ended with them being reprimanded for laughing too loudly in their room, keeping their next-door neighbours awake well past their usual nine o’clock bedtime.

They burst out laughing when they were out of earshot in the lift.

“This is worse than being on a school trip,” Isabelle said in between laughs.

“Suzanna’s past career as a boarding school matron does reveal itself quite clearly on such occasions,” Diane said.

They found their room and unpacked their suitcases. The trip was only four days long, but the room was too small to have two suitcases lying open on the floor.

“Do you think we were put in the smallest room as punishment?” Diane asked.

“At least we have separate beds,” Isabelle answered. “If Suzanna really wanted to punish you, she would have given us a double. Ted tells me it’s impossible to sleep next to me as I move around so much and kick him with my cold feet.”

“I shall count my blessings then,” Diane said.

After all the ladies had come back down from their rooms and gathered in the lobby, they had lunch on the terrace, which overlooked the golf course.

Diane sat at one of the tables waiting for the buffet line to shrink. She stretched her arms above her head and threw her head back. “Hmm.” She gave a groan of satisfaction as she felt the heat warm her face.

“Is this seat taken?” a voice came from above. She looked up to find Tamsin towering over her.

“No, please sit so you get out of my sun.” Diane smiled as Tamsin deposited a plate, filled with various salads and a few pieces of cured meat, on the table. “Not eating?”

“I am,” Diane said. “Just letting the vultures grab their food first. I hate waiting in line.”

“Queuing up is below Diane Thompson, is it?” Tamsin said playfully.

“Of course it is. Don’t they know who I am?” Diane went along with the teasing.

“How’s your room?” Tamsin asked. “I couldn’t help but notice a hint of reprimand in Suzanna’s tone when she was distributing the room keys.”

“Oh, don’t mind her. She enjoys treating middle-aged ladies like boarding school girls.” Diane smirked. “Our room is tiny, but adequate. How about yours? Who did matron assign you to share with?”

Tamsin’s lips expanded into a wide smile. “I have a room to myself. I suppose being the new girl has its perks. Or maybe she wants to keep some distance between teacher and pupils. This being more of a school trip in her mind.” Tamsin’s smile turned into a grin.

“Lucky you,” Diane said.

“I’ve been looking forward to this trip very much,” Tamsin said, gazing out at the view in front of them. “In my previous club they never organised these kinds of excursions. Beats teaching in the British drizzle.”

“Then we will try to behave ourselves to make this trip pleasant for you in every way.” Diane gave Tamsin what she hoped was an angelic smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, the crowds at the buffet have dispersed so it’s my turn to go serve myself.”

“Ladies,” Tamsin shouted, “please grab whatever club you use for a low chip close to the green. You’ll need three balls each.”

They were gathered next to the practice green of the Vilamoura Golf Club. Everywhere Diane looked, the grass was manicured to perfection and every bunker seemed to have been freshly raked. The clubhouse walls were covered in bright pink blooming bougainvillea. It really was an idyllic spot to spend a few days.

Diane had her eight iron in her hand. This was a part of her game that was still pretty strong, so she hoped Tamsin would be organising some form of competition between the ladies.

“As you can see, I have lined up markers on this side of the practice green.” Tamsin gestured towards the row of little flags about six feet apart from each other. “Choose one and then hit three chips towards the hole. When everybody is done, we’ll all move to the next marker. After that we’ll do the same thing with one ball, but you have to place the ball within three feet of the hole.”

Several of the ladies with a higher handicap gasped and started protesting.

“Now, now,” Tamsin said. “You get to practice beforehand; I’m not that mean.” She smiled at them. “Every time you manage to get your ball in the target zone, you get a point. The person with the highest score at the end of it will get a drink at the bar tonight, on me.”

Diane took a spot next to Isabelle at one end of the row. She hit the first practice ball and watched it end up just behind the hole.

“Nice shot, Diane,” Tamsin shouted.

Diane played her next two shots in quick succession. The balls ended up on either side of the hole, but still a respectable distance from it.

She looked up to see if the others were finished. Most of them were concentrating so hard that they were still only on their second ball.

Diane snickered.

“What are you laughing at?” Isabelle asked from behind her.

“They’re all taking this so seriously,” Diane whispered. “Look at everyone, it’s like their life depends on getting this shot right. It’s only a bloody practice shot for goodness sake.”

“Or maybe they really want to impress our new teacher,” Isabelle said, looking at Tamsin.

Diane also moved her gaze towards Tamsin. “That’s probably it. The way a few of them came fluttering up to her to chat about inanities when we were having lunch, you’d have thought she was some hunky PGA Tour pro.”

Tamsin was showing Maggie where to place her feet when she was lining up the ball. Tamsin’s bright blue shorts showed off her toned calves. The short sleeves of her white RTGC embroidered polo shirt revealed quite impressive arms. Of course, it made sense that she would have an athletic figure. She was a sports professional after all. But there was something else about Tamsin that gave her the kind of charisma that both men and women alike were drawn to. Diane wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe her boyish short hair. Although could the term boyish really be used to describe a forty-year-old’s hairstyle?

Diane was woken from her reverie by Isabelle bumping into her shoulder. “Move over,” Isabelle said, “time for the next station.”

Diane hurried to pick up her balls from around the hole and made her way to the next marker. This time her balls all ended up a few feet past the hole. She cursed inwardly. She had better concentrate a little more if she wanted to be the one to earn that drink later.