Dressing up for the “opera” made a nice change. Olive was so used to wearing her beach slacks, she’d forgotten what it was like to go all out on the wardrobe front. She’d gone for a long velvet dress and matched it with a long silver necklace with a chunky locket. It was one of her favourite pieces of jewellery, but as she’d mostly inhabited the beach for the past several years, she didn’t often have call to wear it. She matched it with a pink sparkly shawl (she’d discovered it on eBay and had to purchase it when she’d realised it matched the interior of The Gin Shack) and dangly silver earrings. She was an elegant version of Pat Butcher and even risked some make-up, the occasion was so special.
It might not be the quiet drink in her beach hut she enjoyed, and oh how she missed that space of her own, but it had led to something incredible. Her enjoyment of a glass of bespoke gin at the end of the day was today becoming a pastime anyone in the local area could enjoy. She would get to partake in her once-private hobby with a room full of friends and there was something kind of magical about how that had evolved.
With her sparing make-up complete and happy with her efforts, Olive made sure she had all the important paperwork she needed in her bag before heading down to the lobby to join the others. They had a minibus hired to take them down to the “theatre” and they would just need to park it down one of the side roads so it couldn’t be seen from Oakley West.
‘Got everything?’ Randy asked when Olive reached the forming group.
Olive tapped her handbag and gave him a wink. They’d done their research and made sure they were able to help out behind the bar if the need arose.
Randy was all suited up and looked rather grand. He pointed to the top pocket of his jacket to indicate a piece of paper. ‘Some new recipes we’ll have to look at. What about Veronica? Have you seen her yet?’
As Randy asked the question, Veronica came flying out of the lifts as if she was late for her own funeral. ‘I’m here, guys, sorry, I nearly dislocated my shoulder doing my zip up. And I wasn’t going to come down here with it ready to fall off.’ The dress in question was a beautiful cream 1950s cocktail dress with tassels around the skirt. Together they all scrubbed up really rather well.
‘Are you all secure now?’ Olive asked, worried this might turn into a streaking incident.
‘Yes. Apart from my purse being stuck in my bra.’
Olive wasn’t sure if that was a step up or a step down from chicken fillets, but either way, she wasn’t about to volunteer to fish it out.
Once they were all loaded onto the minibus, Melanie, who was driving, took them the long way round towards The Gin Shack. The ten extra passengers were given the choice of going to the theatre as planned or attending a mystery party. Intrigued, and perhaps catching wind of the fact that something exciting was going on, they all opted for the party.
Having driven round the houses, Melanie eventually parked the minibus in the nearest side road to the bar. They were there at least half an hour before opening time so that all those who’d been volunteering over the past few weeks could assist with any last-minute things that might need sorting out.
It was a shock to find a queue once they turned the corner. The place wasn’t open for another half hour and there was already a stream of people waiting for the doors to open and let them in. Olive recognised a few of the people in the queue, but the majority were strangers spanning a vast range of different ages.
Unlike the others, who joined the queue, Olive, Randy and Veronica were allowed to skip and go in search of Tony. All of Olive’s beach-hut neighbours were inside helping out in whatever capacity they could. The whole place was so shiny and new and Olive noticed that a few more signs had been added, including signs for the toilets, in the same style as the main sign outside. They finished the place off perfectly.
‘I didn’t think it would be this busy,’ Tony said. For the first time he sounded slightly fearful.
‘It’s great that it is, darling.’ His wife, Esme, placed a hand on his shoulder, offering the reassurance they all wanted to give.
‘We just put so much energy into getting the place ready, I didn’t really think about the logistics of tonight as much as I should have. I think TJ and I are going to be worked off our feet.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve checked everything is okay. Obviously I wouldn’t want to be caught doing anything illegal, but we’re your bar staff for this evening. You play at being host, we’ll be the gin connoisseurs.’ Putting the drinks together was something Olive had been enjoying and she’d been sure to check all the legalities to make sure they could help.
‘And the rest of us are all here to help too. We’ll clean tables, sort the glasses and make sure everyone is happy.’ Esme was the picture of calm they all needed with the nervous energy bouncing about the room.
Tony took a deep breath. ‘Thank you. I couldn’t have managed any of this without all of your support. I want everyone who comes tonight to want to come back the next week and the week after that. It’s the regular custom we need.’ He grabbed Olive and Esme by the shoulders and, before she knew it, Olive was in a group hug. ‘I’ve said it before, but it’s worth saying again. You’re all stars.’
‘I suggest we get as many drinks prepared as possible before we open the doors.’ Having been in charge of serving up at her beach hut, Olive knew that a good G&T needed preparation. They could do whatever prep work was required and pour the drinks as close to opening as possible.
‘This is such a relief. I’ve worked out a token system for anyone wanting to purchase all of the tastings for the evening. TJ can take the money if you three are happy serving the drinks. Just none of you overdo it. I don’t want to get any of us in trouble again.’
Randy did a mock salute. ‘Won’t overdo it, sir. Will have lots of fun instead, sir.’
‘Right, let’s get ready to open.’
With a flourish of final activity, the bar was filled with one of the most pleasurable sounds: the chinking of glasses as they waited to welcome friends and strangers they were yet to be acquainted with.
When the time came, they all gathered round the double-doored entrance ready for Tony to open up.
‘Wait up, Dad.’ TJ stopped his father and gave a quick thumbs-up to outside. ‘You need these. If you’re opening the bar you have to do it properly.’
Tony was passed a large pair of scissors and, as he opened the doors, Aiden and Noah were stood either side, each holding the end of pink and silver ribbons waiting to be cut. There were also balloons that had been added to the outside benches and, from what Olive could see, any part of the building they could be attached to. It seemed they weren’t the only ones who had been busy and it was a surprise to find she was only noticing these things now. It wasn’t like the windows in the bar didn’t take advantage of the beach views. But they’d all been so preoccupied with their own tasks, it came as a surprise to everyone inside.
‘Boys. This is fantastic – thank you.’
‘Speech!’ It was someone from the queue calling out. Everyone there was now filing round to get a view of the opening of The Gin Shack. It was like being part of a spectacle.
‘I think I’ve given enough speeches recently. You don’t want to hear from me again. Perhaps Olive would like to make the speech today.’
Olive wanted to give Tony a swift kick behind the back of the knees. Doing a speech at the beach hut in front of about forty people had been bad enough, but there must be at least a hundred people here, all waiting for the grand opening. It wasn’t like she was a tall enough person to be making speeches either, not unless Tony was planning to hoist her onto his shoulders. ‘Let’s just cut the ribbon,’ she suggested.
‘Only if you’ll help me.’
Taking the large pair of scissors between them, Olive and Tony sliced through the pink and silver affair.
‘I declare The Gin Shack open,’ Olive shouted.
There was an eruption of clapping and flashes of bulbs and yells of ‘smile for the camera’ on the cutting of the ribbon. It was quite spectacular for a moment Olive had expected to be quite understated. She was glad she’d bothered with some make-up now it felt like the paparazzi were photographing them.
It wasn’t long before everyone was pouring into the bar with Tony providing an explanation of what they needed to do and TJ soon dealing with a queue of people wanting to purchase the evening’s tastings.
Over at the back of the bar, Esme, Lily and Mark were manning a table ready to sign up anyone who wanted to join up for either monthly, quarterly or annual membership to The Gin Shack Club. There was also a chance to win a month’s membership to the club by signing up to the newsletter.
It was all very slick, but the only thing Olive was worried about was the gin and how it was presented. Already the back wall of mirrors behind the bar gleamed with all the bottles lined up. It had been a tough choice about what to feature for the first week of tasting. It needed to appeal to the many, not the few, but then Olive couldn’t think of any gins that wouldn’t. But it was more than that… whatever they served tonight had to leave people wanting to return. In the end they’d agreed on an old fail-safe that had been taking up a place in Olive’s ottoman for over a year. She loved its flavour so much she couldn’t imagine it ever being booted from her top selection. The second was a wild card. One she’d not had chance to taste herself yet, given that Matron had nicked the bottle off her and it hadn’t yet been returned.
Olive hadn’t thought about the aesthetics of how they would look on the shelves, but they really were a good combination with alternate bottles of pink and violet. The first was her favourite rhubarb gin. Its sour edge made it perfect. They’d sourced some specialist mixers to compliment the drinks well and had a lemon tonic lined up to go with the rhubarb gin. The combination went surprisingly well. They’d wanted to be a bit creative with garnishes, but the only one suitable for that was a lemon slice added to the side of each glass.
The second bottle was the one that had arrived from Iceland and been swiped from them by Matron. It was rather an act of defiance on their part to put that up as one of the selections. It was a bit of a risk doing a bulk order on something they’d not tried, but if the online reviews were anything to go by they weren’t going to be disappointed. They were adding a plain tonic with a cinnamon stick to stir. It was simple but effective.
The cocktail of the evening was a gimlet. A simple mix of gin, lime juice and tonic. They were letting people choose which of the two gins to have in their gimlet.
The glasses were already lined up along the counter, prepped with their lemon and ice. All that needed to be added was the drink. Olive set to work making sure each drink was carefully measured. Not like it would have been at the beach hut, but it was very important they kept on the right side of the law. Veronica followed, adding the tonic, and Randy was ready to deliver them to the next customer and take their token. It was quite the slick outfit given they weren’t the most agile people in the room. Soon everyone had their first drink and they could relax a little.
Tony was doing an excellent job of circulating and filling people in on what joining the club involved and letting people know about the promotions they’d hear about if they signed up to the newsletter.
While he was busy with doing excellent public relations, they started to get everything ready for the next drink. They used a different style of glass and placed the cinnamon sticks and ice in ready. As the first glasses were returned and TJ placed them in the dishwasher, the next round of drinks was poured and exchanged for tokens.
It wasn’t quite how she’d imagined spending the night. Tony was getting to enjoy the pleasure of mingling, but it was important for tonight to go well and he was doing a much better job of ensuring future custom than Olive ever could. She was doing what she loved best: listening to the gorgeous sound of cracking ice on repeat and knowing she was doing it for everyone’s enjoyment was a real pleasure. It was fun watching people’s reactions. When she wasn’t facing them, she watched their reflections in the mirror between tasks. She kept filling a row of three glasses with a unit of alcohol, then glancing up.
Veronica and Randy were still busy doing their respective tasks of adding tonic and serving drinks to the customers.
‘We need to try this one still,’ Randy said.
Olive had been so busy serving she’d not thought to try a sample. It would be really bad form to discover they’d offered something hideous. ‘These next three are ours then,’ she said as Veronica added the tonic. They deserved a pause in the evening and everyone seemed very happy. The chatter in the room was jovial with conversation and laughter filling the air.
The Oakley West trio (the title made them seem like the escapee prisoners they practically were) chinked their glasses together.
‘To things we never thought were possible,’ Randy said.
‘Because life is too short,’ Veronica added with a twinkle in her eye.
‘To finding the perfect G&T.’ As Olive had never settled on what the perfect one was, The Gin Shack opening would be a big help with trying to find the best combination.
The Icelandic gin they were tasting was crisp and clear and refreshing. It was certainly very worthy of featuring as a bespoke gin, but Olive wasn’t sure if it would make her top ten and reserve a place in the ottoman. Thinking about it, she didn’t know what had happened to her precious piece of furniture and its contents. She would have to find out as she didn’t want it to be thrown out. It was one of the only things she owned she was sentimental about. Perhaps she’d been a bit slack in not sorting it out sooner, but she’d been distracted of late.
Melanie started waving in their direction, trying to get their attention. She would know if anything had happened to the ottoman or if it was still being kept safe at the beach hut. Olive should go and ask her now while she remembered to.
As Olive started to leave the bar to go and speak with Melanie, her waving changed. Rather than attempting to get her attention, she was flapping her hands in a downwards motion like she was being attacked by an invisible wasp. It didn’t take long for Olive to work out what it was that Melanie was doing.
In the doorway was a very familiar figure.
‘Get down,’ Olive said as quietly as possible to her fellow bartenders.
Hiding from view wasn’t exactly an easy task, especially given room was a bit tight behind the bar. Olive was too busy getting herself onto the floor to be able to check if Randy and Veronica were following suit. It probably wasn’t the best plan, but right at that moment she couldn’t think of anything better.
TJ took an elegant step over her, taking over from serving when the rest of the staff hit the deck. Turning her head she was able to see Randy and Veronica had copied her, but as Randy shrugged his shoulders up and flattened his hands in a ‘What?’ pose, it was clear they’d not spotted why they were all now hiding.
Olive did her best to mouth “Matron” without actually saying the word.
Both Randy and Veronica responded in a way that made her think they’d got the message loud and clear. The only question was what they did now? They couldn’t spend the rest of the evening lying on the floor. They’d get pressure sores for a start.
‘Who is the owner here, young man?’ the familiar voice asked.
Olive closed her eyes for a moment like a child hoping it would all go away. Even though the three of them were hiding, she had no idea how Melanie would have been able to save the others from being discovered. So many people would struggle to hide in the toilets and she doubted they would have had time to conceal themselves, anyway.
‘Erm… can I get you a drink?’ TJ said.
Good, diversion was good. Although perhaps not if it meant Matron staying any longer than necessary.
‘I recognise that gin you have on your shelves there. It’s a very nice one. Now can you tell me who is in charge, please?’
Olive wanted to jump up (if she was capable of such a surprising feat) and give the woman what for because she’d clearly sampled the gin she’d pilfered from Olive’s room. It was tantamount to theft and, after the way she’d been treated, it was almost worth calling the police to have Matron investigated. She could have been taking all sorts off the residents for her own purposes.
‘I’m in charge,’ Tony said. ‘And I didn’t think I’d have to do this so early on, but you are barred.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t do that. You should be supporting local businesses, not casting them out.’
It was a great disappointment that, from Olive’s position on the floor, she wasn’t able to see Matron get her comeuppance from Tony. It was about time someone gave her what for.
Mirrors. The thought struck her in an instant and by changing her position slightly she was able to glance up to see if she could get a look at any of the action. It was all in broken glimpses, but it was better than nothing. She just had to hope Matron couldn’t see her reflection as well.
‘You’re not a local business.’
‘It is my business if you start encouraging my residents to lie about their whereabouts. No doubt the Olive woman is involved with setting up this watering hole.’
‘This isn’t just any watering hole. This is The Gin Shack. And I’m afraid you’re not welcome. Please leave before causing any more of a scene.’ Tony pointed towards the door, but Matron didn’t respond.
‘I’m only leaving once all the Oakley West residents leave with me. It would be irresponsible of me to leave without ensuring they’re safe.’
‘They’re perfectly safe here, as you can see. I can make sure they all get back to Oakley West without any problems. Now please leave before I have to call the police.’ Tony’s voice was firm and sounded close to getting angry.
‘I’ll be the one calling the police. This is practically kidnapping.’
‘What happened to the bottle of gin you never returned to Olive? It sounds like it must have been opened if you know the gin on offer tonight is a good one. I think the police would frown upon you taking property from the residents, then drinking it.’
Olive was glad Tony had picked up on Matron’s gin comment. If they were talking about unacceptable behaviour, abusing her authority would come under that heading. She shouldn’t have taken it in the first place, let alone crack it open to try it.
‘Olive’s son wasn’t keen on her keeping alcohol in her room after all the trouble she got into. Where is she, anyway? No doubt she’s involved with all this business. Her son won’t be happy.’
Curling her legs in a little tighter, Olive hoped, if she made herself small enough, she might disappear. With so many of the Oakley West residents already in trouble, she didn’t want to be added to the line-up.
A flash bulb went off. Not once, but twice, followed by a third. It was so bright the reflection from the mirror gave Olive a temporary mosaic of square shadows in her vision.
‘You. Are. Barred. I’m not standing here discussing it any more. TJ, pass me the phone,’ Tony said.
The phone was out of TJ’s reach, but he somehow managed to catch a hold of it without making it obvious he was stepping over Randy’s legs in the process.
‘Okay. There’s no need for threats. But it’s safe to say if all my absent residents aren’t back within the next half hour I shall be making a phone call of my own.’
Olive watched as Matron admitted defeat and turned to leave. Another flash went off and for a bar that had been buzzing not so long ago, there was now a deathly silence.
Only God knew what the customers who didn’t know the history of how The Gin Shack came about thought. There Olive was, worrying about whether people would like the gin, when she never considered the possibility they might worry about the bar staff collapsing onto the floor.
‘You can get up now,’ Tony said, leaning over the bar.
Before they responded the flash bulb made its way over the edge and went off again.
Olive’s eyesight was left dazzled again.
‘Who are you?’ TJ asked the person wielding the camera.
‘Rory from the local gazette.’ The response was rather cheery, all things considered.
Olive got onto her knees and accepted a helpful arm from TJ.
Randy, who’d managed to get up in his normal spritely way, extended the same gentlemanly gesture to Veronica, and they were no worse off for their ordeal, despite having had to hit the decks for all of ten minutes.
Rory snapped his bulb again, barely letting them recover from the last photo.
‘Don’t take pictures, please. They didn’t just hide for you to go and spoil it,’ Tony said, placing his paw in front of the lens to stop Rory from carrying on.
‘Oh, come on. This is the best story I’ve covered all month. You’ll be on the front page if you let me take a few more pictures.’
‘We never invited any press. So I’m not sure how you know about our story or how it’s going to end up as front-page material.’
‘How could I not know? News about this place has been spreading like wildfire and that’s saying something coming from a journalist. This place has its own hashtag.’
‘Its own what?’ Tony asked.
Even Olive knew what one of those was.
‘Get with it, Dad,’ Aiden said, having given up his role of glass collector. ‘You’ve been trending locally for over a week. Everyone wants to come and visit the hashtag ginshack.’
‘Did you boys start this?’ Tony said.
‘Don’t look at us.’ Aiden put his hands up in defence.
From the end of the bar, Veronica cleared her throat. ‘It’s a good hashtag.’
Aiden laughed. ‘I should have known it was one of you lot.’
Olive had known for a while that Veronica was very tech savvy. It would seem she was very on trend as well. It was no wonder the bar was filled with all age ranges and not just the latter years represented by the Oakley West crowd.
‘So how about it? Seeing as I found out about you, any chance you want to tell me how The Gin Shack came about? I wouldn’t be surprised if it makes the nationals. You lot hiding from your care-home manager and you giving her what for was front-page gold. “Gin-deprived care-home residents set up their own bar”.’ Rory did that thing of pasting the headline in the air as if it was on the front page already. ‘Okay, it needs to be a bit catchier, but what a great story. It’s bound to bring in more customers. People would travel down from London to come and try this place.’
Everyone at the bar and beyond were a bit dazed and confused, like the bulb flashes had frazzled more than their eyesight. Some of the Oakley West residents were already gathering their coats and bags to return home, their prison guard having given her orders.
‘I’m not sure. I mean, the publicity would be great, but I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, especially this lot, and I’ve a feeling it would.’
Olive had hoped she’d manage to keep this from her son. She wouldn’t have thrown herself on the floor otherwise. She knew Richard wouldn’t be happy. The problem was that Matron would know they were involved as soon as she returned and realised they were also on the “opera” visit.
Knowing Richard would find out she was involved anyway made her worry more about how she and the other Oakley West residents were being treated. It wasn’t on. The Gin Shack would continue as a business whether they liked it or not. But they shouldn’t be able to stop any of the residents from coming here if they wished to. ‘We’ll do an interview,’ Olive blurted out.
‘Are you sure?’ Tony said.
‘Certain. Now, let’s do it before I change my mind.’