It was two days later that The Gin Shack became headline news. And, as Rory had suspected, the news didn’t stay local. It went viral and there were online articles popping up here, there and everywhere.
The twenty-four hours following their interview had been a strange affair. Once the Oakley West trio had finished that night, they’d piled onto the minibus along with all the other residents. They’d all expected to return to some kind of confrontation with Matron, but she was eerily absent and they’d not seen her since.
It had meant they’d been able to go to The Gin Shack the following evening and help without question. All of the other care workers at Oakley West knew about Olive, Veronica and Randy’s involvement with the bar and none of them were going to stop them going out for the evening, the only caveat being they had to return by eleven.
It was with relief that the bar was as busy as opening night, with everyone wanting to try the gin selection. Tony would need to hire more staff as the Oakley West trio wouldn’t be able to work behind the bar all the time. It was fortunate that it wouldn’t be too long before his twin boys, Aiden and Noah, would be old enough to work for him and, as it was proving so popular, Esme was also going to start helping out as well. It was really nice that it was going to end up being a family affair. They just had to hope the customer base remained as strong as at the start of their venture.
The following morning Olive, Veronica and Randy headed to The Gin Shack to meet with the entire Salter family to keep track of everything happening in the news. They gathered in the snug area with Tony reading the article to all of them.
The local gazette had gone with a much snappier headline than Rory had suggested: “Rebellious OAPs Open Gin Bar”. It went on to detail their story with pretty good accuracy. To be fair to him, the young reporter had done a good job of keeping it true to what had happened and gave a very favourable review of the bar and how promising it was for the local area. His finishing sentence implored everyone of drinking age to at least visit the bar and, if they were sensible, join the club.
Tony finished reading the article again, word for word. The story hadn’t only been given the front page, it was also a double-page spread. ‘How fantastic is that? I didn’t even consider inviting the press and we’ve ended up with more advertising than I could ever have dreamed of.’
‘It’s up on Huffington Post now, Dad,’ TJ said from his position on the arm of the sofa, scrolling through his phone.
‘And the Metro. It’s gone viral,’ Aiden said from the other end.
‘What does viral mean? I’m not sure I know unless we’re talking about colds,’ Randy asked.
Aiden peered up from his phone screen. ‘It means loads and loads of people are sharing the article. Bit like an epidemic – the news is spreading everywhere.’
‘Oh, so that’s a good thing, right? Does it mean you’ll end up with even more customers?’
‘Hopefully,’ Tony said, his expression as perplexed as Randy’s over what viral was.
‘Loads of people are commenting about it, Dad. Saying how they’d love to visit and how they want to meet the Oakley West trio to shake their hands.’
Rory had used the Oakley West trio in the article. It seemed the nickname might stick.
‘We’re famous. I’ve always wanted to be famous. Even if it is only for fifteen minutes. It was about time I got round to it.’ Veronica picked up one of the newspapers (they’d purchased more than one copy) and admired their picture on the front cover. It was really rather lovely: the three of them behind the bar, Randy with an arm round each of them, the mirrored wall providing an excellent backdrop.
‘There’s so much you could do, Dad. People are asking for sophisticated hen and stag parties, gin-connoisseur classes, gin-filled weekend breaks, writing retreats. There’s so many ideas people are coming up with and they’re all good. You could totally do them if you’re allowed to use the hotel.’ TJ was so animated in how he spoke it was clear there was more than one businessman in the family.
‘I’d happily run some classes,’ Olive said, obviously caught up in TJ’s enthusiasm. ‘I’d love to talk about the botanics and the gin-making process and how to serve the perfect drink.’ She had a lot of knowledge she’d been keeping to herself for too long. It turned out she wanted to share it and the idea of doing it for hen parties sounded like an absolute hoot.
‘Will you three be allowed out to help us for things like that?’ Tony asked.
‘Matron hasn’t even spoken to us. None of us has seen her since opening night. If some of the other staff hadn’t told us she was there, I’d be worrying about her safety for a change. It’s quite out of character. She’s always waiting for any opportunity to tell us off. Maybe she knows I’m not going to let her any more.’ Olive was adamant she wasn’t going to be pushed around.
The newspaper article didn’t reflect particularly well on how Oakley West was run. It made it sound like a prison, which it practically was, all be it a nice one with food and entertainment.
‘Do you think she’s running scared?’
‘I’m honestly not sure. I’ve never known what to make of that woman. I should have given her a piece of my mind weeks ago. I only kept quiet so we were able to help with this place. And there’s no way she’s going to stop me from coming here.’
‘I think it’s safe to say the press is on the side of the Oakley West trio. Someone has set up a FB support page, getting people to pledge their support for you to be able to come here in the evenings. They all want to come and have their photo taken with you three behind the bar. There are people commenting from Japan,’ TJ said.
‘Japan? Isn’t this getting out of hand?’ Esme leaned forward from her relaxed position on the sofa.
‘Not if they come and visit,’ Tony said. ‘Can you imagine? People travelling from other countries to come and visit our little bar. That would be mental.’
They’d all been worrying about attracting enough local custom, but now it seemed people were willing to travel considerable distances to come and visit The Gin Shack. At that moment, the phone rang and there was a knock at the door. It would seem the word spreading was going to make them popular in other ways as well. Hopefully it was no one arriving from Japan already.
‘I’ll get the phone,’ TJ offered, not really getting off his own.
Tony got up to answer the door. The bar wasn’t due to open until five that evening, so it shouldn’t be customers and, as far as Olive knew, there were no deliveries due. She should know, considering she was in charge of arranging most of them.
‘It’s the Daily Mail,’ TJ said from the bar. ‘They want to know if they can come and do an interview this evening. They’re going to send a reporter down here straight away. Can we, Dad?’
Tony was busy opening the door. Being featured in a national paper would be massive. Olive was pretty certain TJ should just say yes.
‘I think we might have to ask them to call back. I think we might need to deal with this first,’ Tony said.
From their position in the snug corner, it wasn’t possible to see what was so important it required the abandonment of a call from a national paper. They all collectively craned their necks round to see what was going on.
They didn’t need to, though. Tony was heading their way, followed by Matron, Richard and the police.
Olive wanted to scream. How dare this be happening? But, of course, Matron, being the spiteful cow she was, wasn’t going to just give them a polite telling off. If she was going to do it, she was going to call in the big guns. It was beyond pathetic and Olive was ready to give up the kind little old lady act. The gloves were off.