Valley of Sinners Ch. 04

"No problem, I shall find you one."

"I'd rather have a selection."

"Oh, would you. That's a little high and mighty, but never mind."

Hope wrote something in her notebook, tore out the page and said, "Take this down to the clubrooms now and put it up on the notice-board - the one outside the ladies' changing room. You ought to get one poor unfortunate to accept your appeal to join you for a match on Sunday afternoon with drinks and dinner guaranteed."

On Saturday morning Nash went down to the clubhouse and was staggered. The names of thirteen women were written in at the bottom of his appeal for a partner. Initially he thought it was a joke, but looking at the signatures saw obvious differences in handwriting and even in the pens used. He decided to make the choice over coffee back home.

Hope was watching a British comedy on Sky-TV.

"Any names?"

"Yeah."

"Good, I thought you would get someone. Let me see."

"Good heavens," she blurted counting quickly. Thirteen pheromone sniffers."

"What was that?"

"I said, Good heavens, thirteen feminine do-gooders. How will you make the selection?"

"Applied intelligence; I'll probably see an anagram in a particular name that spells winner."

"Good for you. Our probable ladies' club champ for this year on form is on that list, but I'm not going to tell you who she is, as her handicap won't drop until Friday week."

"Come on, I'll be good to you if you tell."

"Good to me in what way?"

"In what way would you like?"

Hope turned back to the TV set, her faced flaming.

"I'm not telling, so don't try to wheedle."

Ten minutes later the TV program finished and Hope listened to a one-sided telephone conversation with increasing curiosity.

"Hi, it's Nash Carson."

"Very well, thank you."

"Good. Listen, would you kindly partner me on Sunday week. You have volunteered."

"Oh, that's great. Yes, we will, won't we?"

"Currently ten."

"Why thank you."

"Yes, I noted your handicap."

"So you're gone down two strokes in the past six months. That's excellent,"

"No I don't, I've sold them so will hire a set."

"Oh, that's very nice of you. Are you sure he won't mind?"

"Well, if you gave him the set I suppose you are entitled to have some say about who uses them."

"You wear the pants? Oh, good. Wear some on Sunday, won't you."

"Yes, you're not the only one who laughs at my jokes."

They went on to talk about the weather, the state of the course and about having a great time on Sunday night. Hope tried to work out the woman player he had chosen.

She went through the players memorized from the list, but could only remember twelve of them. Of those, probably all twelve had dropped two shots in recent months as conditions became dryer, giving more run.

Which of those women had given their husbands golf clubs?

Aha, that twelve was now three. She eliminated Maggie immediately and then as Sue's husband was left-handed, that ruled her out. Shit, thought Hope rather crudely; he's bumbled around and managed to pick the hottest women player in the club, in playing golf too. Debbie Weeks, who'd be the women's new champion if she kept her current form. The lucky devil, if he plays to his handicap it will be a walk over for them. Still, she'd have fun observing Debb's seduction techniques during the afternoon and evening; she might learn something.

Nash came from the phone, looking pleased.

"Any ideas."

"Yes, it was easy -- the gorgeous Debbie Weeks."

"Wrong, Maggie Tait."

"Oh, what a shame. Make sure you take enough money to pay for our dinners, won't you? Why on earth did you pick her, she's so inconsistent? We believe she would do much better if she tied down those swinging boobs of hers; the momentum of their weight seems to put her off balance."

"I'm not aware of her inconsistency. I looked at the handicap board. I get only one stroke off your partner, who's on a nine, and being on fifteen you get six shots off Neven. But Maggie girl, being on twenty-seven, gets eighteen -- one stroke for every hole."

They lounged quietly for a few moments then Hope confessed that she enjoyed having Nash around -- the loneliness in her life had gone since he'd come to stay.

"That's nice of you to say that," he yawned. "I enjoy being here -- you are a remarkable woman, Hope."

Hope looked quite shocked.

"Me? Oh you flatterer. I wish you'd met my father. He was truly a most remarkable man; I idolized him."

Nash choose not to challenge that statement, instead yawned again, snuggled down in his sun loafer and with his hands behind his head said softly, "Please tell me about your sexual experiences."

Hope flushed and said, "Yes, all right, but you relate your experiences first -- and leave nothing out, mind you. My father and I used to occasionally have very similar conversations to this."

To Be Continued...