The Christmas lunch was so well catered it meant the Oakley West trio were able to join their guests along with Rory and Richard.
What was very odd about the whole thing was that Matron, or rather Helen, was helping Esme and the chef with serving the food up and pouring drinks.
In all the time Helen had been in charge of Oakley West, Olive wasn’t able to recall her doing anything as hospitable. So it was very odd now to be served by her. But this time there wasn’t that odd, serial-killer smile on her face. She smiled with genuine warmth and enjoyment, which had perhaps been brought about by Esme, who insisted she join everyone for lunch between courses.
Olive hadn’t noticed it before, but Esme was a remarkably good businesswoman and a team player in that way that made guests want to come back and staff want to come and work for her. Those were very good qualities to have and, if it worked out financially, running the weekends looked set to become a regular thing. Obviously they couldn’t all be as seasonal as this one, but it made sense to extend it to taste experiences or hen and stag weekends. After all, not everyone was looking to get drunk in Malaga. A gin-themed hen weekend might be a gap in the hen-partying market.
The hired chef had done a tremendous job on all the food, and although the menu wasn’t groundbreaking, given it was traditional Christmas fare, it was all tasty and succulent and hit all the right notes. By the time Olive had finished her prawn cocktail and a traditional turkey roast, she was stuffed, but still managed the Christmas pudding because it was too good not to eat every morsel.
Esme had been sensible enough to schedule in an hour’s rest for all the guests and most of them retired to their rooms, with a few opting to walk the morning’s activities and feasting off. The hour also gave the staff chance to tidy up and set up the gin grottos ready for the second masterclass.
Fortunately, Olive wasn’t needed to help with the preparation. She was glad because she wasn’t fit for anything more than sitting in the snug area of the Gin Shack and having a good snooze.
Everyone was reconvening at four in the afternoon for a special meet and greet with everyone involved in the Gin Shack because the fame of the place had extended to everyone involved. Olive had a feeling the young Japanese girls might get particularly excitable when they met the Salter boys.
Richard was also going to announce the winning cocktail as a preview to announcing it to everyone else later that night.
It was Randy who woke Olive once he’d returned from a walk with Veronica.
‘What have I missed?’ Olive was pretty sure she’d been drooling.
‘Not much. Just some butlers in the buff,’ Veronica joked.
‘Oh gosh. I’m quite glad I slept through that then. I’m not sure my sensitivities would cope with naked buttocks near my food.’
‘You’ll be glad to know you’ve missed no such thing then. Unless that’s something Richard has arranged for the buffet later. Everyone’s arriving, though, so I figured you might want to wake up and freshen up.’
Olive must have been drooling. What it was to be old. Although she would probably have done the same in her thirties if life had been this exciting back then.
Fortunately, all she needed to do was wipe her face and she hadn’t been left with a massive drool spot that made her look like she’d been lactating milk. Because, quite frankly, that was a look she’d stopped sporting many years before and she didn’t want Rory accidentally featuring her as some kind of freak showpiece.
Most of the Gin Shack crew were there by the time Olive made it out of the bathroom. The Salter boys and Tony had arrived, as well as Paul, Mark and Lily. It was just Skylar they were waiting for to complete the set.
Helen, Esme and the chef were circling the room offering mince pies that were undoubtedly homemade by the chef and looked divine.
‘Mince pies!’ the young tourists exclaimed, taking selfies with the pies in shot. What a novel and glorious thing it must be to discover such foodie wonders for the first time. It made Olive wish she was able to go on more adventures further afield.
Even though Olive felt she didn’t have a square inch available to eat any more, in true Christmas form she accepted the offerings and somehow made room for them.
The gaggle of girls came over to say “Like Olive’s gin”, before requesting Olive join them as they posed with the pies. She was more than happy to, although if they asked her to eat another she would have to refuse.
In the midst of peace signs and pouting (Olive wasn’t sure she’d perfected the art), there was the sound of glass being chimed and Richard gaining everyone’s attention.
Olive looked towards him and was glad to see that, without her noticing, Skylar had popped in along with Lucas.
‘I would like to take the opportunity to welcome all our guests from far and wide. We wanted to trial a gin-experience weekend and you’ve all made it the most fun. I’m glad to say the festivities will continue for the rest of the day, but for now I would like to do a special announcement about which cocktail, and therefore which person, has won our own little cocktail competition and will be going forward as our entry in the local newspaper’s competition.’
There was a round of applause from everyone there that very quickly evolved into a drumroll, ready for Richard’s announcement.
‘As you all know, we’ve featured the cocktails over several weeks, we’ve had samples provided at the gin grottos, and all our customers have been given the opportunity to vote for their favourite.’
‘Get on with it.’
Olive was pretty sure it was Paul heckling, but wasn’t in a position to see whether it was.
‘I’m just explaining so everyone here knows what I’m on about. Right, drumroll again, please.’
Everyone, including Olive, either clapped their hands or stamped their feet to make the noise of beating drums.
‘I’m delighted to say that the winning cocktail is Olive’s Mince Pie cocktail. Well done, Mum.’
The applause in Olive’s direction was quite overwhelming. Even though she’d been quietly confident it was a good idea, because it was down to a public vote, she’d never been certain of it actually winning.
‘Yay to Mince Pie,’ the trio of girls said and everyone joined in with some hip hip hoorays.
Now they just needed to keep their fingers crossed the cocktail would win the competition, enabling them to officially become the award-winning Gin Shack.