Missing, Presumed Dead by JM Gregson

Author:JM Gregson [Gregson, JM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General
ISBN: 9780750512497
Google: y6JJAAAACAAJ
Publisher: Magna Large Print Books
Published: 1998-10-14T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Christine Turner was a big success as Ladies’ Captain of the North Lancashire Golf Club. Those men who were prepared to listen thought she had ideas which might well be of value to the future development of the club. Those diehards who considered women should be confined to the kitchen and the bedroom looked at her trim figure and her ready smile and thought her an appealing slip of a girl, even though she might well have been a grandmother by now.

But Christine was most successful with those who had chosen her to represent them, the ladies’ section of the club. The old and infirm found her not only kind but mindful of past glories, when their limbs had been stronger and the world had been a kinder place. The good players found her both aware of their needs and able to compete with them; she was even on occasions able to emphasize that what they were about was after all a game, when they might have been tempted to take it too seriously.

The rabbits among the lady golfers (golf clubs have only ladies, never anything so dangerous as women) found her always ready with encouragement and understanding, and when necessary, with tactful guidance as to the arcane procedures in this most ritualistic of sports. She even contrived to encourage one or two teenage girls to take the plunge as golfing juniors into what would otherwise have seemed to them the forbidding blue-rinsed waters of the North Lancs.

But on this particular ladies’ day, when her flock had the course to themselves for their competition, Christine Turner was preoccupied with other things. Only someone who knew her well would have recognized it. She made her usual brief but well-turned speech in presenting the prizes. She chatted with different groups as the decibel level rose to a shrill climax over the communal tea in the lounge. She made a point of going over to welcome back the lady who had just had the mastectomy and was sitting, wanly cheerful, over her tea and cake.

But Christine could not wait for this time she usually enjoyed to be over. She kept her eye on the clock over the bar, deliberately ignoring the neat gold watch on her wrist lest people should divine her impatience. As soon as she could do so, she slipped into the entrance hall of the club and made a call on the members’ phone.

It took them some time to search him out, whilst she waited anxiously and smiled weakly at the few members who passed her. ‘Francis? Thank God they’ve found you. Look, I must see you. You’ve seen the papers?’ Even now, she felt she should not mention the name of Debbie Minton, as if that would somehow make things more damning for him. ‘I need to see you... No, don’t come here. I don’t think you should be seen around here at the moment. I’ll come and see you... No, not there. Somewhere more anonymous... Right... No, but I’ll find it, if it’s in the centre.

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