For the next week, Olive’s nostrils were filled with the scent of Christmas. She might be biased, but she was sure her cocktail was the best one. If that was perhaps too big a boast, then she was certain it was the one that was closest to filling the brief for the competition. She was sure of it because every time she entered the Gin Shack that week, she was hit by a waft so distinctly Christmassy, it was enough to convince her it was Christmas Day already.
The Mince Pie cocktail was the last one they were showcasing before collecting the votes to select a winner who would enter the competition.
Today, everyone from the Gin Shack crew was meeting at the bar to sort out the voting forms. Esme had printed them off at home, but they needed cutting up and none of them had a guillotine to speed the process up. It also gave them a chance to sort out the final details of the Gingle Bells retreat weekend.
‘It’s fully booked then?’ Skylar asked, while concentrating on cutting along the lines.
‘Yes, it filled up pretty quickly. A couple of people dropped out, but the places have been filled.’ Esme was busy wrapping and decorating two boxes for the votes to be placed in. One for the bar and one for down at the gin grottos in case anyone wanted to place their vote down here.
‘What’s on the itinerary then?’ Lily asked.
Esme had taken charge of most of the arrangements for the weekend and even Olive wasn’t sure about everything that was taking place.
‘The guests should arrive late on Friday evening and I’ve arranged canapes and drinks for their arrival. I’ve hired a chef for the Saturday so they’ll get a cooked breakfast in the morning. We’re doing morning and afternoon masterclasses and they’ll be held at the gin grottos if the weather is nice enough. For lunch that day they’re having Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, and in the evening it’ll be more cocktails with the announcement of the winning cocktail. Sunday is a late brunch cooked by me, then they’ve been asked to leave their rooms by twelve because we have the judges from the newspaper coming that afternoon. It’s going to be a hectic weekend, but I think we’ve got everything covered. Tony’s been helping me with the planning from home.’
Olive didn’t know about everyone else, but now she kind of wished she’d booked herself onto the weekend. She probably would have if she’d known about the proper Christmas meal added into the middle of proceedings. Chuck a couple of pigs in blankets her way and she was sold. Then, with all the gin tasting and learning how to make cocktails, it sounded like a really lovely weekend. Blow last-minute shopping. This sounded like the best way to relax ahead of Christmas.
‘It’s been good to get involved. It’s made me feel part of the crew, even though I haven’t been able to be here as much as usual. And it’s definitely put me in the mood to be back. Come the New Year, I should be behind the bar again,’ Tony said.
‘That’s great news. Does that mean we lose Richard?’ Paul said, always the straight talker of the bunch.
‘No, luckily not. I’m only going to come back part-time to start off with and Richard’s got plans of his own, but I’ll let him tell you about those.’ Tony was stacking the cut voting slips into neat piles and periodically wrapping an elastic band around a bundle.
Richard glanced at Skylar before he spoke. Only briefly, and Olive hoped he wasn’t also making plans without discussing them with her. She’d had quite enough of that his week. In fact, Olive hadn’t even had chance to catch up with her son to see if everything was still okay between them.
‘Ummmm, well, the plan, which is pretty embryonic at the moment, is to find a suitable site to open a distillery. It’ll be my business, but it’ll be part of the Gin Shack brand. So, I’m staying and I’ll continue working here until I’ve found a suitable place for a bit of an expansion of what we already do.’
Olive gauged Skylar’s reaction rather than listening completely to what she already knew. Thankfully, Skylar didn’t appear surprised. She didn’t look delighted either, but then, with everything going on, that was to be expected.
‘That’s great news,’ Mark said, and everyone else joined in the celebratory mood with lots of talk about what gins they could create and what was needed in order to get started.
It was a good time to nip off to the toilet. Not least because she needed to go. But it also gave her the chance to pause and chat with Skylar on her way back.
‘How are things?’ Olive said it quietly in the hope their discussion wouldn’t be heard in among the hubbub of all the other excitement.
‘Hard. I tried to talk to Lucas about the concept of having a father and he got the wrong end of the stick and thought I meant Richard. He’s even taken to calling him Dad. That’s obviously going to go down well.’
For a second, Olive found the true definition of an apple in her throat. Her son being referred to as “Dad” was something she’d thought she would never see happen. And to think that young Lucas trusted someone enough to bestow that title on them made it all the more heartbreaking that his real father had now turned up. ‘Have you got any further with helping him understand?’
‘I decided the best thing was to wait until the day we meet up with him. Are you free tomorrow? I was hoping you might come with us. It might be helpful for Lucas to have more than one familiar face and I think having Richard there might confuse matters.’
‘Of course I’m free. As you know, the Oakley West activity programme encouraging me to try to learn crochet has never been my thing.’
‘Thank you. Lucas will love to see you.’
‘And I him. I’m due to get that boy an ice cream. It’s about time I got one for me for that matter.’ With the café now closed, they had to rely on when the ice-cream van was about to get their fix, and these days it was all about timing it right.
‘I’ll message you with details. Thank you.’ Skylar gave Olive’s hand a squeeze before Olive snuck back to her voting form-duties like she’d never been slacking.
In a gush, Olive’s maternal instinct rushed into her pores and set her skin into a tingly warm fuzz. Because out there in the world, a little boy was choosing to call her son Dad. And it meant that tomorrow, it wouldn’t be Olive Turner turning up to protect her friend’s interests. It would be Grandma making sure she did everything possible to protect her boy. And nobody should ever mess with Grandma.