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In the hours that followed the golf game, Tina fought the urge to call Bette and row back on what she’d said. She felt vulnerable and foolish, everything had come out too hurried, too blunt . . . ‘Raw’ was the word that kept coming back to her. And that whole set-up was tense from the get go, what were they thinking? She broke out in a cold sweat more than once when she remembered that Pippa could have been there (although if she had been, there’s no way Bette would have confronted her the way she did).
That same night, a Saturday, Carrie had booked a table at Fishing With Dynamite, Tina’s favourite seafood restaurant, and after a large glass of chilled Sancerre Tina finally exhaled and they just talked . . . ‘What’s going well?’ was the mantra their therapist had suggested, to keep conversations positive. Tina talked about Angie, Carrie talked about work, they praised Biden’s student debt bill and the finale of Better Call Saul . . . It was a nice evening. And confusing, because what did it really mean to be compatible? Do some compatibilities matter more than others? Tina knew that Bette wouldn’t know Better Call Saul if she found it in her soup, and yet . . . Hadn’t they’d been in love? And when it was good, wasn’t it everything?
Come Wednesday morning, she was immersed in work and the questions receded. In fact, as she sat doodling on her blotter in a meeting with the world’s dullest accountants, Tina’s only question was how to escape the office. She was senior enough to tell her PA to clear her afternoon, but to go where? Carrie was in court, Alice on her book tour. Shane was in Vegas. But actually, she realised, she wanted to be alone. Somewhere green. With a cafe and easy parking . . .
And that was why, two hours later, she swung her Mercedes briskly into the lot at the Brea Creek Golf Course. Not the place they’d gone with Bette – that was fully booked – but it had looked nice on Tina’s phone and it had a driving range free. So here she was, pulling her clubs out of the trunk and striding in to cathart the shit out of a few dozen little white balls.