‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘We can always go and hit balls somewhere.’
The obvious caught up with me. ‘We can play Pals,’ I declared. ‘I’m a member. I get priority there.’
‘What’s it like?’
‘Nice. It’s the oldest course in this part of Spain. They have played tournaments on it, but not for a while.’
‘But is it similar to this course?’
‘It’s got trees,’ I offered, lamely.
Uche laughed. ‘That’s all you need. You can practise missing them; that’s going to be very important on Thursday.’
‘Fuck off,’ Jonny retorted, amiably, taking me aback, yet pleasing me at the same time, because it showed that he was genuinely relaxed in my company. Yes, you could say that he was treating me like one of the boys, but I didn’t mind that. It’s usually my position of choice.
We had barely finished before I had to leave. I didn’t broach the subject of accommodation with Uche until we’d stepped off the eighteenth green and he’d finished tidying Jonny’s bag. When I did, and told him what I’d lined up; he was pleased, and easy to please still further. ‘Which would you choose?’ he asked.
‘The penthouse studio; no question. But don’t you want to know what it’ll cost?’
‘No. I’ll take it.’
‘I’ll tell the owner. You can probably move in whenever you like.’
‘Sunday evening will be perfect; thank you very much, Auntie P.’
I wasn’t sure how to take that. Uche was a very presentable young man; the realisation that he saw me as an aunt figure brought me up sharp.
So I ignored it. ‘I’m sure we’ll be able to book the one next door for your parents, if they want to come and visit you.’
His slightly cautious smile suggested a couple of things, either that if his parents did come to visit they’d be booking the best suite in the best hotel in town, if not a whole floor, or, that even if they were the chummy types, their son might prefer to keep them at a greater distance.
Business concluded, I headed on up the road, and made it home just before Tom. He has his own key now, but I don’t yet feel comfortable about leaving him unminded too often, unless I’m within shouting distance. I’m much more relaxed about leaving Charlie, on guard in the garden, although he was pleased to see me, for he was running out of water. He needed exercise too, and so did Tom, having been cooped up in school all day, so they left for their usual run, along to Vaive and back, while I gave some thought to what I might lay on the table before my extended family.
I had just dug three steaks out of the fridge, and was starting to chop onions when the phone rang. ‘Bugger,’ I said as I picked it up with two fingers, trying not to smear it and leave it ponging for days.
‘Thank you,’ said Alex Guinart. ‘I’ll take that to be a term of endearment in English.’
‘Sorry, Alex,’ I replied. ‘Awkward moment. And no, in case you get the wrong idea, I’m in the kitchen, not on the toilet. What can I do for you?’
‘Nothing you haven’t already done. I thought I should call to tell you that our specialists got a decent image from your phone picture. Just for fun I persuaded a friend of mine to feed it into the national computer, to see if we got a facial match. We didn’t; not even close.’
‘Did you try databases anywhere else?’ I asked him. ‘Although Tom was dead certain that he wasn’t one of ours.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ he laughed. ‘I’m an inspector in a regional police force in Spain. I’d have had to go through our HQ in Barcelona for that sort of access, and I’m not about to do that. Look, Primavera, I’ve done as much as is reasonable, and a bit more. The photograph is out there, in Mossos stations across Catalunya, with a note that it came from a report by a concerned citizen. So thank you again. If we should happen to put a name to it, I’ll let you know.’
As if, I thought as I hung up. I was still curious, though. I was flattered that Alex had gone that far, but I knew that it had been mostly PR. No, what I wondered was. . had Patterson come up with anything?
Had it not been for the half-chopped onion, I might have called to ask him, but the onion took priority, and so I went back to the kitchen instead.
Five
Pals was quiet next day, so I didn’t have to muscle my way into a starting time. In fact the club superintendent was very pleased to see us, even more so when Jonny showed him his European PGA membership card. These days pros are offered the courtesy of the course by most good golf clubs around the world; it’s only a few, the nineteenth-century relics, the sort that still don’t admit women as members, that won’t allow them to play.
When I tee-ed off at the first, it was for the sake of appearance; I hadn’t meant to play all the way round, but the boys insisted. As it turned out I’d have been bored if I hadn’t, for Uche was meticulous in calculating the yardage for each shot, using the course guide and flag placement chart that the starter had given us, so that he could give Jonny the right club every time. I know the caddie is a team player, but I hadn’t appreciated until then that it was a practice round for him as much as for his boss.
Although I’d watched Jonny hit a few hundred balls by that time, it wasn’t until then, until I saw him in the context of my home course, that I realised how long he was. I’d played with his grandfather and his uncle often enough, and they could send it out a fair distance, especially Oz, but Jonny, he seemed to be knocking it into another province.
‘It’s not only about distance,’ Uche replied, when I remarked upon this, as we set off down the long par five eighth after another rifling tee shot. . Jonny’s not mine; that one had gone a hundred and twenty metres. ‘It’s about hitting it the same distance every time with each club in the bag, and it’s about accuracy.’
‘And how good is Jonny at that?’
‘He’s up there with the best. The trouble is, there are a hell of a lot more of the best than there used to be.’ He grinned. ‘They’re in for a shock this week, though. We’ve arrived.’
‘You think he’ll make the cut all right?’
‘I know he will. I’ve been watching the other guys on the practice range. We weren’t out of place there. We’re going to make money.’ He smiled. ‘Ninety per cent to Jonny, ten per cent to me; I’ve got a real interest in giving him the right club every time.’
‘Is that after this Brush character has taken his twenty per cent?’
Uche shook his head as we stopped at my ball. Jonny’s was miles ahead; he was standing twenty metres away, engrossed in the yardage chart. ‘Nope. Mr Donnelly isn’t on the course, so he doesn’t earn there. His commission comes from all the ancillary deals he does.’
I hit a fairway club in more or less the right direction; when it stopped it still hadn’t caught up with my nephew’s. I glanced at him, noting the logos on his clothing. The boy was a walking sales pitch.
‘He’s got some good sponsors,’ I said. ‘Do all young players turn pro with that sort of backing?’
‘Some do. For example, there’s a young American guy who was on the college circuit with us until a year ago. He looks like a rainbow on legs. But most of them? No, they need private money behind them, someone to stake them, and to carry the losses they’re going to make. . and quite possibly never recover them.’
‘So why has Donnelly done so well for Jonny? Yes, he played in the Walker Cup, but so did quite a few other guys, and I haven’t seen anyone else from our team lighting up the circuit. I know he’s good, but I’m biased; I’m his aunt. Those badges he’s wearing, they’re all top companies. How did this man Brush get them on board when he hasn’t even hit a shot yet, professionally?’
We’d reached my ball. I pulled out another club and clipped it forward again. A good one: another like that and I’d be on the green. As I set off towards my playing partner’s tee shot. . I read a distance marker on the fairway and worked out that he’d hit it two hundred and eighty-two metres. . I sensed an unusual hesitancy in his caddie.