By the second round of masterclasses, Olive was really flagging. Having two one-hour slots to teach had seemed like a good idea when they’d planned it all, but Olive hadn’t factored in that she’d be having a very heavy lunch and alcohol on top of that. At least she’d had a nap, though, and hadn’t drunk so much she wasn’t able to use her Segway. But then, if she sampled anything more, she wasn’t going to be in a position to drive it back.
Fortunately, all the guests were in a similar slump as well, so it didn’t hurt that the lesson was a little bit more laid-back and less detailed. Instead Olive offered out her deckchairs so the participants were able to relax while she talked them through the different elements of the chocolate-orange cocktail she was producing, rather than getting them more actively involved.
The guests were more than happy to receive their drink and have the opportunity to admire the glorious views Westbrook Bay had to offer. There was a definite extra chill in the air so Olive offered out blankets to anyone wanting to have an extra layer.
Rory was still hard at work, although if this was the kind of day he normally got invited to, Olive wished she could go back and have a career all over again.
Once the last group joined her, Olive was pretty sure they were overrunning, and she was almost certain of it when the Christmas statues and lights were switched on. It provided a nice glow of light as the day started fading away at a pace.
It was a good job there wasn’t a free deckchair, because if there had been, Olive would have been sure to take a seat and, judging from how tired she was, would have slept through the night there, given half a chance.
Rory, who must have been about a quarter of her age, seemed disgracefully awake and full of energy as he bounced over to take more photos.
‘Can I have a word?’
Olive peered around at first, certain the young journalist wasn’t on about her. ‘What about?’ she said when she realised his question was intended for her.
‘Can we?’ Rory gestured towards the back of her beach hut so they’d be away from everyone else there.
It was an uncertain course of action to follow. This could be some back-of-the-bike-sheds moment, and Olive didn’t have an ounce of cougar in her, although she would understand if he was attracted. Who wouldn’t be, given her drooling abilities and Segway swag? But of course it was nothing of the sort. It was just that she didn’t have a clue what it could be, unless he was requesting the recipes for his mother. That sounded more likely.
Richard started gathering the troops ready to return to base camp.
It was a moment when Olive should have been following, but something about this exchange was making her curious enough not to move yet.
‘What’s up?’ Olive said it as if she still had youth on her side.
The group she had been teaching were already following Richard, so there was no one in earshot now.
‘I might get into trouble for this, so you have to promise not to tell anyone.’
Suddenly Olive wasn’t so sure she should be letting everyone drift off while she was stuck here hearing a confessional. Goodness knew what Rory was about to admit. ‘It depends what it is.’
The lad peered round Olive’s hut like it might conspire against them. ‘Just, whatever you say, you didn’t hear it from me.’
‘Okkaaaayyy.’ Olive really had no clue what she was being drawn into.
‘I just wanted to warn you that two Mince Pie cocktail recipes have been entered into the competition.’
‘Oh. Well, they did ask for Christmas flavours. I guess similar themes will crop up.’ It was disappointing to think that her idea wasn’t a unique one. Especially when she’d worked hard on getting it just right.
‘Not just the same name. There’s been an identical recipe entered.’ Rory did that widening of the eyes thing to emphasis the point.
‘Identical? What? As in copied?’ Even though they’d been trialling the cocktails at the Gin Shack, they’d never given out the recipe. It was available in case anyone with allergies needed to know the full list of ingredients, but as far as Olive knew, no one had requested to see it. ‘Who is the entry from?’
‘I’ve said too much already, but if you get it in one guess, I’ll let you know if you’re right.’
It wouldn’t have taken a genius to work it out, seeing as they had a specialist in foul play at work in the bay. ‘Does it begin with Bottoms?’
‘You’ve got it.’ Rory raised his eyebrows as he spoke. ‘And you never heard anything from me, remember?’
‘Are you coming back to the Gin Shack?’ Olive needed to work out what to do.
‘Yes, I might as well.’
‘Good. Because you can walk me up there. I think we need another drink.’ There was still enough of the chocolate-orange cocktail for them both to have some. It would be a shame to waste it and it would be a chance to think. ‘I just don’t understand how anyone could have got hold of the recipe in order to copy it.’
Rory shrugged while accepting the drink Olive offered him. ‘You must have told some people, otherwise no one at the Gin Shack would be able to produce it.’
‘But no one from the Gin Shack crew would double-cross us like that. We don’t have any spies in our camp. Unless…’ The thought came to Olive all at once and perfectly formed.
‘What? Do you know who’s let on?’ Rory appeared like he might be joining the squiffy brigade.
There wasn’t any other plausible explanation for it. There was only one person who might want to have some kind of revenge by doing such a thing. ‘Helen, or should I say Matron, helped me with all the gin prep. We were doing her a favour by letting her stay in the hotel occasionally because she’d been struggling. She’s the only one who’s had access to the recipe who has a reason to be upset with us.’ Ever since she’d reappeared, Olive hadn’t been able to fathom the woman. The Oakley West trio might have been the reason Helen got caught, but it wasn’t down to them that she’d got in trouble with the police and lost her home and job as a result. That was all her own doing and she had to be accountable for the actions she’d taken even if they had been to protect a family member.
‘Why would she do that, though, when you’ve been helping her out?’ Rory downed the rest of his drink.
Once upon a time, life had been simpler. There was a time when Olive thought she was able to understand the rationale of people. She wasn’t sure if it was because things were harder to reason the older she became, or if it was because the world was becoming a more complex and demanding place. Either way, sometimes she didn’t know where to stand in the grand scheme of things. Could it be that, although she’d offered to help Helen when her life was at a low ebb, she would be prepared to switch loyalties in what must be a revenge attack? ‘There’s only one way to find out. We’ll have to go and ask her.’