Golf with George

"'Bye, darling." Elaine pecked her husband's cheek. "Mm, you smell good. Give my love to George."

Was there a hint of sarcasm? Derek looked back to see Elaine waving cheerfully. "Have a lovely weekend," she smiled.

Relieved, Derek slung his golf bag into the boot. For an instant the fear that Elaine suspected something was followed by a stab of conscience when he saw from her face that she didn't. He waved, baring his teeth in what he hoped passed for a smile at that distance.

Why worry? He had things planned to a nicety, the perfect alibi, and Elaine didn't suspect a thing. He couldn't help the way he was made, could he? What Elaine didn't know about couldn't hurt her. Thanks to George she would never find out.

Derek recalled when George had first made the suggestion.

"What could be more innocent than a round of golf?" They were drinking in the clubhouse as George probed for the cause of Derek's evident preoccupation. A near miss, when he had told Elaine he had to work on a Saturday afternoon. Leaving the empty offices with his latest conquest, a young typist, he had just spotted Elaine's car in the nick of time. She had come to save him the uphill walk home. Working near home could have its drawbacks.

"Phew!" laughed George. "A couple of minutes earlier, and you'd have been caught with your pants down."

"Not funny, George. Elaine would go ballistic if she knew."

George didn't understand, being a bachelor. But he seemed keen to help. "When you fancy a day on the tiles, just tip me the wink."

"Yeah," said Derek, uncertainly.

"And maybe," George winked, "the odd trip to Gleneagles for the weekend?"

Derek's eyes brimmed with tears of gratitude.

"What are mates for?" George ruffled his hair.

They planned with military precision. Derek gradually forgot his guilt as they honed the details.

"What if she suspects something and rings you to check?"

"No problem. I'll put the answer phone on."

"But, wait a minute. Suppose I need to contact you?"

"Good thinking," George declared and scribbled his mobile number on the back of a scorecard.

Derek was enjoying the game, which George's planning made seem less like subterfuge. Was there anything they hadn't thought of?

"Would it be a good idea for Elaine to meet you? You know, to add a touch of -"

"Verisimilitude?" George smiled. "I think not. Then I'd be tied to the house while you were on your sprees in case your wife spotted me in Tescos. Stretching the bonds of friendship a bit thin, don't you think?"

"Sorry, old man. Didn't think." Derek felt suitably guilty about his selfish assumption that George had nothing better to do than act as his alibi. He felt sorry for George, living alone, the only highlight in his life a game of golf with Derek. He never talked about women, and Derek had never seen him with one. It had to be said, he was no lady-killer. No conversation except about golf, hardly likely to interest the fairer sex. But a brilliant schemer all the same. Derek congratulated himself on giving George something to set his mind to work on. Might even bring him out of himself a bit. This was a side to George that Derek had never seen, and his admiration for his old friend grew proportionately.

"'George said this. George did that,'" mimicked Elaine one morning, as she was ironing and Derek was reading the Golfer. "He must be something special. I'd like to meet him some time."

"Oh, no, love," babbled Derek in confusion. "You wouldn't like him. Real man's man." He paused, wondering if he was protesting too much. "Likes to keep himself to himself. Only interested in golf. Bit of a bore, really."

Elaine laughed. "Darling, if I didn't know you better, I'd think your George was really Georgina."

Derek stole a look at her out of the corner of his eye. She was bent over one of his shirts, a gentle smile curving her lips. He turned back to his magazine, rattling the page to hide his relief. She was only teasing.

Derek whistled happily as he sped towards his destination. Romance, a touch of danger, a brilliant game of subterfuge. This was the life. His first "tournament", he was free for the whole weekend. Free from fear of discovery. Free even from conscience. For wasn't Elaine also free to do whatever it was women liked to fill their time with? He imagined her spring-cleaning while he was out from under her feet. Then, she might curl up with her favourite Maeve Binchy. As long as she was happy, he was happy. Everyone was happy.

Almost there. Derek lifted his foot from the accelerator to savour his anticipation.

* * *

When Derek had turned the corner, Elaine turned back into the house, humming softly to herself. What a glorious day. Just right for a stroll along the river. After a cool shower, feeling fresh and damp, she spread out three summer dresses on the bed, and sprayed herself with Apple Blossom while she made her choice. The turquoise. She dropped it over her head, luxuriating in the silky caress as it rippled down over her body. Too hot for underwear. She smiled to herself, thinking how shocked Derek would be. He could be a bit prudish, bless him. If she allowed herself the tiniest criticism, a bit unadventurous, predictable, even boring at times. These games of golf, more frequent of late, were a godsend. Every woman should have time to herself, just to be herself, forgetting the humdrum responsibilities of married life. A little time to dream, to feel free, young, desirable again.

Elaine looked at the clock. Ten o'clock precisely. Derek had been on the road for an hour. She picked up the phone and dialled from memory. It was answered immediately.

"George? Elaine. He's on his way. See you in twenty minutes."