Quintin Jardine - As Easy as Murder

From then on, I watched her as well. Two or three times she stopped Jonny to play him back the video she had shot, and once adjusting the position of his hands at the top of the backswing, but otherwise she seemed happy with what she was seeing.

They worked on; that upright swing never seemed to vary, but gradually I could spot the slight differences in the set-up that triggered the differences in ball flight. When the session ended, and Uche put Jonny’s driver back in his bag, I checked my watch and found that they had been at it for well over two hours. By that time I was on my own, Shirley having pleaded a combination of sore bum and hunger before dragging Patterson off to find refreshment in the clubhouse.

As his caddie shouldered the enormous bag and headed for the locker room, Jonny was left in conversation with the big blond guy, who had joined him just before his practice broke up; it didn’t stop him waving me down to join them. ‘This is Lars,’ he said, ‘Lars Martinsson; he’s married to my coach, and he’s a pro as well.’

‘By the skin of my teeth,’ his companion added, in comfortable, if accented, English. ‘I don’t play so much these days. Lena’s work takes her to the big events, mostly. I don’t get to play in them very often, but I don’t like to be away from her and the kids, so I don’t spend too much time on the minor circuit. The one time I did win, seven years ago in Malmo, she wasn’t there to see it.’

Nice , I thought, a golfer who follows his wife, rather than the other way around .

‘Come on, Auntie,’ Jonny interrupted. ‘Let’s go to the players’ catering. I need to take on some carbs for this afternoon’s session.’

That sounded like a good idea, so I bade farewell to Lars, and fell into step alongside him. ‘You’re not finished?’ I said.

He shook his head. ‘I have to take advantage of today. It’s going to be really busy here tomorrow, so I want to get out on the course while I can. I’m due on the tee at two fifteen in a four-ball with. .’ He rattled off three names; one of them was the former US Open champion, another had been captain of the previous year’s Ryder Cup team, and the third was likely to be his successor. ‘They’re curious,’ he explained. ‘They want to see how I shape up. Plus they’re all good guys, to be sharing practice time with a newcomer like me. But this is a generous sport, Auntie Primavera.’

I smiled. ‘Hey, I told you not to call me that.’

‘I like calling you Auntie. You’re the only one I’ve got.’

‘Not so,’ I pointed out. ‘There’s your Auntie Susie, in Monaco.’

He stopped smiling. ‘She doesn’t count. I don’t like her. Now that Uncle Oz is dead she’s off the list.’

‘That’s a bit harsh, Jonny.’

‘No it isn’t. Mum can’t stand her either, and Grandpa and Mary only tolerate her because of the two grandkids, Janet and my namesake. They’ve never forgiven her for the way she came between you and Uncle Oz. I was too young to know what was happening at the time, but now I do, and I feel the same as them.’

I was still pondering this as we walked into the catering tent, the only part of the tournament’s canvas village that appeared to be working. I chose a salad from the buffet table, but Jonny helped himself to an enormous plate of rigatoni, with a rich meatball sauce.

‘You know,’ I told him, ‘your grandpa’s never said a word against Susie to me.’

‘He wouldn’t, for Tom’s sake, but that’s how he feels, trust me. Mum and him always liked you, Auntie P. Mum says that Susie’s man, the one she was engaged to before, was hardly in the ground before she set her cap at Uncle Oz.’ He grinned, and I could see the kid that still lived within him. ‘She doesn’t actually say “Set her cap”, but you know what I mean.’

‘I know,’ I admitted, ‘but I put that behind me a long time ago. It’s history. Yes, Susie might have thrown herself at Oz, but he didn’t have to catch her, especially not since we were technically on honeymoon at the time. But the truth is I wasn’t perfect either. Your uncle managed to get the both of us pregnant at the same time, but I was so mad with him that I kept my condition to myself. . for four years, as it turned out. It wasn’t really Susie he left me for, you see, it was her baby. If I’d told him about mine. . about ours. .’

‘That’s what Mum says too. She says your problem then was being too nice about it.’

I chuckled. ‘That’s not something I’ve ever been accused of before. So anyway, how is your mother? I haven’t seen her for years, since the last time I saw you in fact.’

‘She’s still the same; fearsome as ever. She hasn’t changed a bit.’ He paused. ‘Well, she has in one respect. She’s Lady January, now that my stepfather’s a Court of Session judge, and a lord. She and Harvey live mostly in Edinburgh now, since my brother left to go to university.’

‘And how’s he? How’s Colin? He was a wild little bugger, as I remember.’

‘He’s tamed. He learned to wipe his nose when he was about fourteen and got all serious with it. He’s doing a maths degree at Oxford; I hardly ever see him.’

I thought of the Sinclair boys when first I’d met them, in the French village where their father had parked them and Ellie while he worked all the hours God sent. Urchins, both of them. What fifteen years could do. ‘Will that be two graduates in the family?’ I asked. ‘What do you golf students come out with? I don’t know.’

He smiled. ‘I’ve got a Bachelor’s degree in agribusiness; majoring in golf course management. If I don’t make it on tour I can fall back on that; maybe I’ll do an MBA, and go to work for Brush, or somebody like him.’

‘No worries there, son. You’ll make it all right. With a swing like that, how can you not?’

‘We’ve all got swings like that, Auntie. That’s why we use people like Lena Mankell. You saw her, did you?’ I nodded. ‘This is the first pro event I’ve ever played, and Brush has got me invitations to six more here in Europe, that’s as many as you can have, and another five in the States.’

‘Who’s this Brush you keep mentioning?’ I asked.

‘He’s my manager.’

‘Our Jonny; with a manager.’ I shook my head and smiled. ‘You do realise you’re making me feel ancient?’

‘Not you,’ he said, gallantly, and quickly enough for it to sound sincere. ‘We all have, even as amateurs, some of us. His real name’s James Donnelly, but everybody calls him “Brush”, because he sweeps everything up.’

‘Sounds handy. So how does the invitation thing work? Who invites you?’

‘The event sponsors; it gets you past pre-qualifying. Like I said, I can have up to seven this year, but if I manage to finish in the top ten in a tournament, I get automatic entry to the one the next week, and I don’t have to use up an invitation, if I have one. In theory, I could be playing full time for the rest of this season, and make enough money to get my playing card for next year. But on the other hand I could use up all my invites, miss every halfway cut, and not make a cent, then go to tour qualifying school and get cut again halfway through. If that happens, the sponsors that Brush has got for me will disappear,’ he snapped his fingers, ‘just like that.’

‘Do you believe,’ I asked, ‘that is what’s going to happen?’

‘No.’ His answer was instantaneous, and firm. ‘I believe I’m going to win this week and never look back. I really mean that. I did sports psychology in my degree; if you can’t manage your head, you’ll never manage your game.’

‘Is your mum coming to see you?’

He frowned. ‘She can’t. She had a hysterectomy a couple of weeks ago, and she’s not cleared to travel yet.’ He saw my expression. ‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing life-threatening. It was serious, though. She developed a condition called endometriosis, a couple of years back. It really floored her. They tried all sorts of treatments, lasers and things, but nothing did much good, and finally, surgery was recommended as the only way. She’ll be fine now, they say.’