Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

By Saturday morning, I had decided not to overthink Friday night. Dinner with Tom had been easy. We’d talked, laughed, and stayed at the restaurant longer than either of us had planned. He’d walked me to my car afterwards, and we had agreed to see each other again. Nothing about it required a detailed analysis, so I tried not to give it one. 

Tasha, naturally, had other ideas.

She called just after ten. 

“So,” she said, without even saying hello properly. “How was dinner?”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Good morning. How was it?”

“It was nice.”

“Nice?”

“Very nice.”

“Did he make you laugh? Did you have a good time? Did he behave like a gentleman?”

I smiled into my mug. “Yes, yes and yes.”

“Excellent. I’m proud of him.”

“You haven’t met him.”

“I’m proud of you. You went out, had a good time, and didn’t spend the whole evening discussing project timelines.”

“I don’t discuss project timelines over dinner.”

“You once explained a delivery schedule to me while we were waiting for a movie to start.”

“That was different. You asked.”

“I asked if you wanted popcorn.”

I laughed. “You are impossible.”

“I’m also curious. Are you seeing him again?”

“We haven’t made plans yet.”

“Well, if you do, you’d better tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Why does that matter?”

“It doesn’t. I just want to see the outfit.”

“You want to inspect it.”

“I want to admire it. There is a difference.”

I shook my head, still smiling. “I will keep that in mind.”

After we hung up, I made another coffee and spent a quiet hour at home. I was deciding what to do with the rest of my day when Tom’s name appeared on my phone. 

Tom: Good morning. How is your Saturday going?

Me: Pretty quiet so far. How about yours?

Tom: Not bad. I had plans to play golf with a friend today, but he just cancelled on me.

I smiled at the message. 

Me: That is unfortunate.

Tom: It is. I was still hoping to go, though. I don’t particularly want to go alone this time. 

A second message came through. 

Tom: Would you be interested in coming with me? I can pick you up if you are free. 

I read the message again before replying. 

Me: Golf? I should probably warn you that I can’t play. 

His response came almost immediately. 

Tom: That is alright. I will teach you. 

Me: You are very confident in your teaching abilities.

Tom: I have faith in both of us. 

I laughed. 

Me: So let me get this straight. Your friend cancels, and I’m suddenly the replacement?

Tom: When you put it like that, it sounds terrible. 

Me: I’m just trying to understand my position here. 

Tom: You are being offered an afternoon of golf, excellent company and free lessons. I think that is a reasonable arrangement. 

Me: And what if I’m terrible at it?

Tom: Then I will be a patient teacher.

I considered it for a moment. I had never played golf before, and it wasn’t something I had ever thought of trying. Still, it sounded different from the usual ways I spent my weekends. Besides, I was curious to see how patient Tom really was.  

Me: Alright. I will come. But don’t complain when I embarrass you. 

Tom: I wouldn’t dream of it. I will pick you up at one, if that works?

Me: That works.

Tom: Send me your address and see you later, then. 

After sending Tom my address, I put my phone down, still amused by the conversation. It wasn’t quite how I had expected to spend my Saturday , but I didn’t mind the change of plans. 

I started getting ready, choosing a pair of comfortable trousers, a simple top and trainers. I wasn’t sure what one was supposed to wear for golf when one had never played before, so I decided comfort was the safest option. I tied my hair back and grabbed a light jacket before checking the time. 

A little before one, my phone rang.  

“Hello?’

“I’m outside,” Tom said. “No rush.”

“I will be down in a minute.”

I picked up my bag, checked that I had my keys and headed downstairs. When I stepped outside, Tom was standing beside his car. He greeted me with a smile and opened the passenger door. 

“Ready for your first golf lesson?” he asked.

“That depends. How much patience have you brought with you?”

“Enough, I hope”

I got into the car, and he closed the door before walking around to the driver’s side.

“Just so we’re clear.” I said as he started the engine, “I’m still not convinced I should be taking lessons from someone whose original playing partner abandoned him.”

He laughed. “I knew that was going to come back to haunt me.”

“Of course. I need to remind you that I wasn’t your first choice.”

“You were not my first planned choice for today.” he admitted, glancing at me briefly. “But I’m quite pleased you said yes.”

We continued talking as he drove, mostly about the golf course and how long he had been playing. He explained that he wasn’t particularly serious about it but enjoyed going whenever he could find the time. 

“How long have you been playing?” I asked. 

“A few years. A friend introduced me to it, and I kept going.”

“So you are actually good?”

“I’d say I’m decent.”

“That sounds like something someone who thinks they are good would say.”

He laughed. “You will have to judge for yourself.”

“And if I decide you are not?”

“Then I will have to work on my reputation.”

By the time we arrived, I was beginning to look forward to trying something new. Malik parked the car, and we headed towards the clubhouse. He helped me get the equipment I needed and explained a few basics before we made our way to the practice area.

He handed me a club.

"Alright," he said. "Let's start with how to hold it."

I looked down at the club, then back at him. "This already looks more complicated than I expected."

"It's not. Just follow what I'm doing."

He demonstrated the grip and showed me where to position my hands. I tried to copy him, but he quickly noticed that I was holding the club awkwardly.

"Not quite," he said, trying not to laugh. "Here, let me show you."

He guided my hands into the right position, then stepped back to give me room.

"Better?"

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

I took a swing and missed the ball completely.

There was a brief silence.

Then Tom laughed.

I turned towards him. "Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to."

"That was a practice swing," he said, still smiling.

"Of course it was."

He retrieved another ball and placed it for me. "Try again. Keep your eyes on the ball and don't rush."

This time, I managed to make contact, although the ball travelled a rather unimpressive distance.

I looked at him. "Well?"

"That's progress."

"You're being generous."

"I'm being encouraging. There's a difference."

I laughed and tried again. The next attempt was slightly better, and by the fourth, I managed to send the ball further than I expected.

"See?" he said. "You're getting the hang of it."

"I think I deserve some credit for that."

"You do."

We spent a while practising, with Malik patiently explaining what I was doing wrong and offering suggestions. I wasn't suddenly good at golf, but I was enjoying myself more than I had expected. It helped that he didn't take it too seriously, and he never made me feel foolish when I got something wrong.

At one point, after another unsuccessful attempt, I lowered the club and looked at him.

"Be honest. Are you regretting inviting me?"

"Not at all."

"Even though your original plan was to play with someone who probably knows what they're doing?"

"Especially because of that. At least you're keeping things interesting."

I laughed. "I'm glad I could provide some entertainment."

After our practice, we decided to get something to eat at the clubhouse. We found a table and ordered lunch, and I asked him how often he usually played.

"Whenever I can," he said. "It gives me a reason to get outside and switch off for a few hours."

"I can understand that. I suppose it's nice having something that has nothing to do with work."

"Exactly. Do you have anything like that?"

I thought about it. "I enjoy trying new restaurants, going away for weekends when I can, spending time with friends. I don't really have one particular hobby."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"What about you? Is golf your main hobby?"

"Not the only one. I like travelling, watching football, and trying new places to eat. I also enjoy cooking when I have the time."

"Cooking?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm not claiming to be a chef, but I can look after myself."

"That's reassuring."

He laughed. "What does that mean?"

"It means I don't have to worry about you surviving on takeaway meals."

"I think I manage quite well."

"That's what they all say."

We continued talking over lunch, moving from hobbies to places we had visited and the kind of holidays we preferred. Malik had travelled to a few places I had on my list, and he gave me some recommendations. I made a mental note of a couple of them, although I wasn't sure when I would get around to visiting.

We spent so much time talking that I barely noticed how quickly the afternoon was moving.

We made our way back to the car, and Tom drove me home. The conversation continued along the way, with no awkward silences or pressure to keep it going.

When we arrived outside my house, he turned towards me.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I did. Although I'm not sure I'd call myself a golfer just yet."

"Give it another lesson or two."

"You're already planning another lesson?"

He smiled. "I wouldn't mind."

I opened the door, then paused. "Well, thank you for the invitation. And for your patience."

"You're welcome. I had a good time."

"So did I."

I got out of the car, and he waited until I had reached the front door before driving away.

Inside, I put my bag down and took off my jacket. My arms felt a little tired, and I suspected I would remember my first golf lesson the next morning. Still, it had been a good afternoon.

My phone buzzed a few minutes later.

Tom: Just checking you made it inside safely.

Me: I did. Thank you for today. I enjoyed it.

Tom: Good. I enjoyed having you there. And I think you did better than you give yourself credit for.

Me: You're still being generous.

Tom: I'll let you decide that after your next lesson.

I smiled at the message before putting my phone down.

A little later, I sent Tasha a message telling her about the afternoon. Her reply came quickly.

Tasha: Golf? Since when do you play golf?

Me: I don't. Tom taught me.

Tasha: Interesting. So now he's teaching you golf?

Me: Don't start.

Tasha: I haven't even started. I'm just saying, this is becoming quite entertaining.

I laughed and set my phone aside.

It had been an unexpected way to spend a Saturday, but I was glad I had gone. I had tried something new, enjoyed the afternoon and discovered that Malik was a surprisingly patient teacher.

As for whether I would take him up on another lesson, I wasn't making any promises.

But I wouldn't rule it out either.