Even though she wanted to meet up with Tony and Esme to sort a shopping list for the cocktail masterclasses, Olive had hoped it would be a planned meeting in the next few days. Not because they’d asked her and Richard to get to the beach huts urgently.
It really was a moment when she could have done with her Segway to get her there as quickly as possible. Sadly, that was still down in her beach hut. Perhaps that was what this was all about. Her means of transport had cost her a pretty penny. If someone knew it was inside the hut, it wouldn’t have taken much to crack the door open and thieve it away.
She hoped not. It didn’t quite indicate it was her main means of getting about these days in the same way a mobility scooter would, but anyone in the local community would know it was Olive’s. She was becoming quite famous for driving it around.
They went down the slope closest to the huts to go and find out what the problem was.
Tony and Esme were perched out on their deckchairs like it was any other ordinary day. Olive even spied they had bacon sandwiches ready on their table.
Olive wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Possibly another vandalism attack considering they’d had so many of them recently. But there were no huts that had been broken into. There were no signs of bottoms stuck to places they shouldn’t be. Instead it all looked rather lovely and tranquil. It was the kind of sight she was used to down at her beloved hidey-hole.
‘What was the urgency?’ Richard asked when they reached the couple.
Tony jerked from his slumber. If it was an emergency they were on about, surely he wouldn’t be able to snooze?
‘I’m glad you’re here. Grab a pew.’
There were two extra deckchairs out for them to take a seat on.
‘What’s going on?’ Richard asked, clearly on high alert still.
Olive was the same. Too concerned to relax until she knew exactly what was going on.
‘Honestly… have a seat and it will all become abundantly clear.’ Tony gestured for them to do as they were told.
Feeling too worn out to argue, Olive collapsed in the chair, picking up a sandwich as she went. Nothing became abundantly clear other than how hungry she was. She’d skipped breakfast at Oakley West that morning in a bid to speak to Richard as soon as possible. So the good fortune of there being bacon sandwiches on offer was uppermost in her mind at that moment. Her brain really was so hardwired to her stomach, food was all she could think about at times.
‘Seriously?’ Richard said, as he took his seat.
It was a very un-Richard-like statement, so Olive stopped mid chew.
‘Honestly? Talk about how low can you blow.’ Richard folded his arms like a disgruntled teenager and flopped into his deckchair ready for a monumental sulk.
As Olive didn’t know why, she really did need to catch up. Not before another bite of sandwich, though. There was nothing on the beach or promenade to piss her son off. So, there was only one other obvious place to look.
Over at the old beach café there was a new sign. They really did bloody love their advertising. Olive had to squint to make out what it was this time.
There was one word that was really obvious and Olive picked that one out before all the rest. Three perfect letters that she somehow felt she had some ownership over: GIN.
‘What?’ Olive sat forward in the hope that such a small distance would make all the difference in being able to read the rest of the sign.
“CHRISTMAS GIN FESTIVAL” was emblazoned across the banner. There was some smaller lettering that Olive was unable to make out from this distance, but it no doubt provided the rest of the details for the event.
‘They can’t bloody do that.’ Olive was in the mood to march over there and give them what for. They’d not worked as hard as they had on the Gin Shack for someone to pitch up, open a new bar and declare it gin week.
‘Unfortunately they can. There’s no law stopping them.’ Richard was still in his grump pose. She remembered it well from his teenage years.
‘Well, their gin will never be better than ours.’ Esme grabbed a sandwich.
‘That’s not the point, though, is it?’ Tony seemed as put out as Richard. ‘It’s the fact they – or rather this Pete bloke – have deliberately set themselves up in competition with us. Even if our gin is superior, they’re trying to outshout us at every opportunity. I’m sure this will just be the tip of the iceberg.’
‘Do you think it’ll work? It does seem a bit desperate and they’ve only just opened up.’ Esme was the only one relaxed enough to still be eating.
‘It’s bound to have some effect. We have customers who come more than once a week despite the menu being weekly. There’s nothing to stop them spending their extra evenings here, especially with this going on.’ Tony would know. Even with being off sick, he was still the one keeping an eye on the books.
‘What do we do about it then?’ Olive wasn’t one for sitting back and giving in to what was effectively bullying, especially if all the bottom signs were just a precursor to what was to come. She didn’t condone bullying of any sort, and she wasn’t about to suggest they go round there and tell them off, but there had to be some way to level out the playing field.
‘Just carry on as we planned. We’ll showcase our Christmas cocktails, we’ll enter the best one into the competition, and we’ll host our Gingle Bells retreat weekend. If we react, he’ll know we’re riled. We just need to carry on regardless.’ It seemed Richard could also do a pretty good job of being the voice of reason.
Olive didn’t know what to say. Somehow, in not doing anything, it felt like admitting defeat.
When her stomach grumbled, Olive did the best thing for her at that moment and that was finish her sandwich and polish off a second. At least if she wasn’t hungry she’d be able to have a good think.
If advertising was the thing they were going for, perhaps it was time the Gin Shack started doing some of its own. Up until now they’d pretty much survived on word of mouth. They’d only published a few flyers initially, but the news had spread so quickly they’d ended up making national headlines, and they were still riding the coattails of that success. Perhaps it was time to make a more concerted effort once again.
‘I’m sorry. We can’t do nothing. It’s not within the Gin Shack mentality.’ Olive found herself saying it without any plan in mind. All she knew was that they should at least have a plan. ‘We need to at least do some advertising of our own.’
‘Can we get Veronica to do some social media stuff?’ Tony was less up on all matters social media than Veronica was.
‘She already does. At least I know she does for the Oakley West trio support group. I know she would if we asked her, but can’t we do something a bit more direct?’
‘Leaflets?’ Tony suggested. ‘They worked last time.’
Tony wasn’t wrong, but the publicity that followed had been down to chance as much as anything.
Olive had a feeling they needed to be clever. That whatever they did, this Pete would try to outmanoeuvre them. Whatever they did, he would try to be bigger and louder than them. So perhaps big and loud was the way to start out?
‘Are any of us any good at decoupage?’ Esme said with a grin on her face.
‘Now you’re being silly,’ Tony said. ‘I don’t think any of us should be in a hurry to make a bottom or whatever we would use to advertise. Even if we made a gin bottle, that could go against us and help to advertise them.’
‘We can’t just copy. We need to do something original.’ It was all very well saying that, but coming up with an idea was something else entirely. Especially when Olive and Esme should be busy concentrating on the preparations for the Gingle Bells weekend. There were still the final Christmas cocktail recipes to decide on and the programme of events for the guests. And thinking about all those ideas at once managed to spark an idea in Olive’s imagination. One that grew from the memory she’d had earlier.
‘Other than putting an ad in the local paper, I’m not sure what we could do.’ Richard at least looked less grumpy than he initially had, finally unfolding his arms to help himself to a sarnie as well.
‘I think I have one.’ If it had been possible for life to be animated, a light bulb would have appeared above Olive’s head right at that moment.
‘Go on,’ Esme said, as they all sat forward, paying her more attention.
‘It might sound a bit nuts and I’m not sure how we’ll go about organising it.’ Olive hadn’t really thought about it too much. She wasn’t even sure if it was possible.
‘What is it?’ Tony said, urging her to tell them her mysterious new idea.
‘You all know I love Christmas.’ If they didn’t, they didn’t know Olive particularly well. ‘I’ve also thought about how the beach huts would lend themselves to being grottos.’
At this time of year, there were very few beach huts still out, some of them less sturdy and only available to hire during the sunnier months. But their huts, the ones they were sitting outside now, were sturdier, with porches, and Olive had always thought they looked a bit like the Swiss chalets or stalls you saw on German markets. It wouldn’t take much to make them all Christmassy.
‘As in Santa’s grotto? How’s that going to help advertise the Gin Shack?’ Tony look perplexed.
‘Because I wasn’t meaning a Santa’s grotto. We could create some gin grottos. I was thinking about how they lend themselves to doing some of the masterclasses here. It would be a nice change of scenery for the people on the weekend away. Then I was thinking it would be good to give people tasters. Not just the people trying out the recipes, but members of the public. We could let them have a little taster of some of the Christmas cocktails and give them details of the Gin Shack. Hopefully, if they’ve had a taste, they’ll want to come to us to try the full version. We can get them to vote for their favourite as well, to help us decide which cocktail we’re going to put into the competition.’
It seemed like a good idea in her head, but Olive wasn’t sure if it was making sense as she was explaining it. She was even prepared to wear an elf costume if it would persuade them on the idea, although hopefully today’s Santa jumper was enough. There were plans and then there were epically awesome plans and Olive liked to think this was on the latter end of the spectrum.
‘Gin grottos offering gin samples for the Gin Shack. Hmmmm…’ Tony drifted off into a world of thought.
Maybe it was only epically awesome in her head. They’d have to sort the logistics of it out for starters, so perhaps it was too complicated to ever be anything more than an idea.
‘All of the huts?’ Tony questioned.
Olive shrugged. ‘If everyone was happy to have them decorated. We don’t necessarily have to be able to go inside. We could just use the porch areas to set up with maybe just a couple of them accessible for us to get sorted.’
‘And how long are you planning on doing this for? Someone would have to be here. We couldn’t leave it unmanned.’ Richard’s expression was thoughtful as well. Maybe this wasn’t such a daft idea after all.
‘I guess an hour or two before opening time at the Gin Shack. That way, if there are any tourists about or potential new customers, they won’t have to wait long to try the real McCoy. I plan on holding some of the masterclasses down here on the Turkey and Ginsel weekend so we can finish it then.’
Tony stroked his chin. He was sporting more of a casual stubble look since he’d been poorly and it suited him. ‘We’d have to think about the cost, though. Giving out free samples won’t be cheap. And we’d have to make sure it wasn’t just attracting repeat offenders. I can imagine it becoming a load of yobs just here because they’ve grown out of the skate park. They might just try and get drunk on us and it’ll do nothing to help attract new custom.’
Olive could see how that might be a concern. She’d only thought it might be a jolly way to attract new customers and there was no clearer way of stating they weren’t going to take any bullying lying down. ‘We should decorate the beach huts at the very least. We could put up our own banner for the Gin Shack if everyone was in agreement.’ She was pretty sure they would be happy about this, seeing as they all saw the bar as their brainchild. The idea had morphed from here. It would be a fitting place to put up an advert.
‘We should go for it,’ Tony said. ‘We should decorate and put a sign up and plan for some gin grotto sessions. I’ll have to have a think about the ins and outs of that, but it should go some way to helping to advertise. Just as long as it doesn’t bankrupt us in the process.’
‘Will it?’ Olive had very little business savvy and didn’t like to think it would get them into trouble financially.
‘No, I was only joking. Everything’s going well just as long as the opening of Bottoms Up doesn’t result in us losing lots of custom, but hopefully a plan like this will help stop that.’
‘So, when do we set it up then?’ Esme asked, clearly enthused by the idea. ‘We’ve never really decorated the hut for Christmas. It will look really special.’
‘The sooner the better. We need to get a sign made up sharpish, but as soon as that’s done we can get everyone down here to help out. Then everyone can bring their supplies of tinsel and maybe we could fork out on some extras and have it ready as soon as we can.’ Tony gave a definite nod and it made it feel like a very “one for all and all for one” moment.
‘Tomorrow then, if we can get the sign?’ Richard said.
‘Sounds good to me. We’ll just have to make sure everyone is onboard and willing to help,’ Tony said.
‘There is just one thing.’ Olive didn’t know why, but somehow keeping an element of surprise was probably going to help them. ‘Do you think we could do it overnight? I don’t think they’ll be expecting it, so it would be a shame to give the game away before we were ready.’
‘It’ll make things a bit tricky. We’ll have to plan a bit more, but maybe if we make it in a couple of nights’ time it’ll give us more of a chance to get things sorted.’
‘Right, we best start getting ready then.’ Tony got out of his deckchair and it was nice to see some colour back in his cheeks. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much longer before he was behind the bar again, back where he belonged.
‘I’ll message the others and see if they’re all happy,’ Richard volunteered.
‘I’m going to go home and get the Christmas decorations out. If we’re putting some up here it means I don’t need to go so mad at home this year,’ Esme said.
‘I think it’s best I go and order this sign as my first job.’
Seeing as they were all assigning themselves their tasks, Olive figured she should join in. ‘I’m going to decide once and for all what I’m going to put in this blasted cocktail.’ She really had been dragging her heels over what should go in it. If she managed to strike that off her to-do list she would be able to concentrate on heading up being in charge of a winter wonderland.
Because if the new owner of Bottoms Up wasn’t going to respect the season of goodwill, then they would bloody well show him how Christmas should be done. And in Olive’s world that consisted of bling, and lots of it.