Even on her Segway, Olive wasn’t able to catch up with the perpetrator. He’d given them the slip all too easily and there was nothing more to do other than convene at the scene of the crime.
‘Is the café really closing, Dad?’ Aiden asked as they all gathered to catch their breath. Apart from Olive, of course, who was really rather pleased with her purchase as it was proving its worth already. And Tony, who’d had the good sense not to go and ruin his recuperation by giving chase when there were six healthy young lads in pursuit as it was.
‘Not that I knew about, but there was an application for a premises license. I thought it was so they could serve up wine and beer at lunch as well as ice cream, but there must be more to it.’
They all studied the sign in more detail. This was definitely the work of the same person who’d applied the additional sign to the Gin Shack. The bottom was almost identical, having been built up in layers. Unlike the sign they’d had added, this one had multicoloured streamers set out like the colours of the rainbow along the bottom. It wasn’t depicting poo, like the one they’d had. It looked more like it belonged at the Notting Hill carnival.
‘Can you speak to the owners and find out?’ Olive didn’t like this. She didn’t like it at all, but they were fighting an invisible force. One she didn’t know what to make of.
‘Yes, I will. I need to talk to them about this to start off with. If it is closing I think they’d rather announce it themselves than let this monstrosity do the talking.’
‘I think the only person reaching rock bottom is the one doing this. It’s hideous. Did any of you get a proper look?’ Olive really didn’t like this. It was a form of bullying, however creative it was.
Most of the boys shook their heads.
‘I didn’t see them, but there must have been two because the one I was chasing got into the passenger side of the van before they drove off. That sign is pretty big, they obviously needed the van to deliver it, and it would have taken two of them to get it down there.’
‘Did you get the license number?’ Tony asked, obviously hopeful the night was going to come to an end with a nice piece of solid evidence to catch the bad guys.
‘The plate was dirty. I could only see that it started with a C, then the rest was unreadable.’
Tony asked a few more questions about the details of the van, but sadly, it was way too generic for them to hope it might help them catch the persons responsible. They would just have to keep an eye out.
As they all decided it was too late to hang around any more, and there’d been way too much activity to hope that Olive’s squatter would turn up, they all headed home.
Tony wanted to escort Olive back, but as he would be able see she’d returned safely from a distance, she insisted he made sure the kids (because, yes, they were young adults, but to her they were still kids really) got home safely.
As she whizzed back to Oakley West it was hard to believe that the usually quiet bay was such a hive of activity of late. And not the kind of activity anyone would want to encourage. With so many types of crime going on, Olive might become more of a mall cop with her new set of wheels than she’d ever thought she would be. Or should that be promenade police? Somehow it didn’t have quite the same ring to it.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Olive went to the Gin Shack purely for enjoyment. Often these days she would go in the daytime for a cuppa and a catch-up with Richard or she would be helping out behind the bar, but she’d been so busy recently, she’d not gone for the evening to try what was on offer.
The chocolate-orange cocktail had been featured and this evening it was a recipe from Skylar that Olive hadn’t had a preview of. The occasion called for reindeer earrings and a Christmas jumper. November was not too soon to start getting in the festive spirit as far as Olive was concerned.
Time was running away and it was only six weeks until Santa would be visiting all the good girls and boys. And Olive couldn’t miss out on trying another of the entries. Fingers crossed it wasn’t anything like hers.
Knowing what she shouldn’t know, Olive did wonder if there might be some bias in her son’s decision over which cocktail to feature that week. It would be a perfect way to have started the conversation flowing between them. She was also sure Skylar had excellent ideas and taste, being the creative person she was, so, even if that had been what happened, she knew the cocktail would be a good one and she couldn’t wait to have a try.
Soon Olive was wandering to the Gin Shack with Randy and Veronica keeping her company.
‘You’ve no idea who it was then?’ Randy asked, because as of late, all their conversations centred on paper bottoms.
‘No, other than it was more than likely a man and I would say he was no older than about fifty. The only other thing was he had a white transit van with a registration plate that began with the letter C and there were probably two of them.’
‘What happened about the sign?’
‘It’s still there. We can go take a look en route if you like. Apparently the tenants have changed, so the previous café owners don’t want anything to do with it and the new ones weren’t bothered as they’re in the process of moving in. They’re going to remove it when they get the chance.’
The three of them crossed the Esplanade for their detour. ‘Who’d have thought a decoupage bottom could become a tourist attraction?’ Olive said, wondering how many other people must have stopped on their journeys to take a look.
‘I guess that’s the point, isn’t it?’ Veronica said. ‘They’ve done it to attract attention.’
As if to prove the point, there were several people gathered taking silly selfies with the bottom in the background.
‘I still don’t see why anyone would do it,’ Randy said. ‘It seems a lot of effort without much purpose.’
Veronica got her phone out. ‘Would it be bad form to join in and take a picture?’
Olive shook her head in exasperation. Trust her far-too-on-trend-with-tech friend to want to be down with the kids and take a selfie. ‘I just don’t like it. There’s something not right about this. But don’t let me stop you from taking one.’
‘No, don’t worry. It was only an idea.’
‘You do know Veronica set up a Facebook fan page for us, don’t you? The Oakley West trio are still famous. She keeps updating it with news about all of us and what’s going on at the Gin Shack. It’s surprisingly popular.’
‘Noah had mentioned it. If you want a picture for that, why don’t you take a nice selfie of the three of us minus the bottom in the background.’ It was a nice idea anyway. They should probably organise something at the Gin Shack to have a picture taken of everyone involved with the place. Perhaps it was something they should plan to do over the Christmas week when everyone was likely to be about. That would be some family portrait for Olive to have displayed in her room at Oakley West. One that represented all the new and old aspects of her life.
‘Come on then,’ Randy said, guiding them both round so they’d have the sea in the background and he could stand proudly in the middle.
It was odd to think they had a fan club. People from all over the world who’d seen them in the media and followed their story since. The trio of care-home residents who had been stopped from forming their Gin Shack Club, forcing them to find their own way of making it a reality, eventually leading to the opening of the Gin Shack with the help of their friends. The media and the public had loved their story, and while in some ways Olive would have preferred it if the attention had died down, these days it was for the purpose of maintaining interest in the Gin Shack and making sure the customers kept coming.
‘Say cheese then.’ Veronica held the phone at arm’s length and did something fancy with her other hand that set the thing ready to take their picture. Then again. And again. ‘You do it, Randy, your arms are longer.’
They all shuffled about and readjusted to find the perfect angle. As they were a bunch of octogenarians, it was pretty tough to find one that didn’t give them five double-chins each and reveal that at least one of them no longer had their own teeth.
After about the seventh photo, Olive was getting a bit bored and distracted by the bottom-selfie antics going on behind Veronica’s phone. She’d seen at least ten people stop and take a picture. It was creating a fair amount of traffic and she guessed if it had been posted on social media, word was spreading about the bottom on the beach.
Olive noticed there were now posters all over the building as well. As if another opportunist had come along and flyered the building in the hope everyone would come to their DJ set that weekend. Although it wasn’t in those fluorescent colours she was used to seeing.
Smiling for one more photo, Olive had to go over and investigate. She left the other two to squabble over whether they had the perfect picture in favour of finding out what was going on.
Every poster splashed across the café walls was advertising the same thing. All Olive could make out was an upside-down bottle with burgundy, white and black colours marking it out. The lettering was black on the white background and, like everything lately, she needed to get a bit closer to make it out for sure. When the words did come into focus, she almost swore out loud. She didn’t, because there were young kids about, but as they were all taking pictures of the bottom, they were probably well-versed in a ‘bloody cheek’ or two.
Instead, she read it again to check she was understanding right.
The poster clearly stated: JOIN US on OPENING NIGHT of BOTTOMS UP – the best bar in town!
Each flyer held details of the opening date and time, which was just over a week away. How had none of them known about this?
‘Get over here,’ Olive said, being rather direct in a way only true friends could.
‘What’s up?’ Randy said, quicker to respond as he wasn’t busy uploading pictures to social media.
‘I don’t frigging believe it. Read that.’ Olive pointed a finger to the posters, tempted to rip every single one of them off the wall. How dare they declare themselves as the best bar in the area when they hadn’t even opened?
‘We need to get to the Gin Shack and let everyone know,’ Randy said, ripping one off the wall, making sure to keep all the details intact. ‘Come on, Vee. This is urgent.’
Randy started heading off and it took Olive and Veronica some effort to catch up with his mighty strides.
‘What’s the rush?’ Olive knew they needed to be told, but she didn’t think it meant going at breakneck speed. She wished she had her new motor, but hadn’t brought it as she intended to have a drink this evening.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Randy stopped in his tracks and turned to let them catch up.
‘What? What’s obvious?’ Veronica asked between panting to catch her breath.
‘This craft-fiti business… I kept saying I didn’t understand because what was the point? Well, there was always a point, we just didn’t know about it.’
‘Do we know now?’ Olive said, knowing she’d missed something.
‘Bottoms Up wine bar. Those bums weren’t a prank. They were a very idiotic way to advertise their new business. And considering what they put up on the front of the Gin Shack and the way they’ve declared themselves as the best bar in town, well, they’re not planning on playing nicely, are they?’
‘I guess not,’ Veronica said. ‘We best tell Richard and the others.’
Olive didn’t find her pace again quite so quickly. The feeling of unease that hadn’t left her for a few weeks swam in her stomach making her queasy. She’d been right to trust her gut instinct. She’d known something had been off about the sign originally tacked to the Gin Shack. And knowing why it had been placed there didn’t calm the sensation at all. In fact it did the opposite, because she had a definite sense of this only being the start of their troubles.