Outside the club-house she persists with her motley band of brothers, until a striding, capped American in plus-fours chooses her. With a simple "Bessie's the best at searching rough", he marches on like he's the next Walter Hagen, cigarette trickling from his mouth. Elizabeth manouevres the bag. Soon clubs clink rhythmically across her back.
The only girl on the course, she proves him correct, once, at the fourteenth, unearthing treasure from gorse and heather.
Finally, he tips a full shilling for her troubles...
Chuckling, seventy years on, Elizabeth confesses to several "lost" golf balls, stored strategically in her knickers...
