There were no plush red carpets here. They’d obviously not gone to the same expense in the staff quarters, which wouldn’t normally be seen by the residents. The flat brown carpet seemed a poor cousin by comparison.
‘This way…’ Randy waved them to follow.
Olive had a barrage of questions she wanted to ask Randy, but they could wait until they were outside. At least she hoped they were heading outside. He could be leading them to their deaths and she really was stuck in an episode of Rosemary and Thyme, only they weren’t playing the detectives.
They walked only a short distance before turning a corner to the glorious sight of a door to the outside world. It was smaller than the entrance, like a theatre-stage door, but all that mattered was that it was a way out.
‘Shall we?’ Randy said with a smile as he held the door open.
It was nice to see chivalry wasn’t dead, even if it had taken hiding in the bushes to get to the point of knowing Randy’s intentions were all good.
Olive and Veronica shuffled through the door into the street. Even though it was evening, the sun was still shining bright, the summer rays still blazing.
Once they were further along the road, heading towards the Royal Esplanade, Olive started her questioning. ‘Do you do this every week?’ It was a happy convenience if he did. They would never have come across this way out if they hadn’t bumped into him, especially as it seemed there was an accomplice involved.
‘I certainly do. I’ve been happily getting away with it for about six months now. Of course, it does involve a few people turning a blind eye, but I think they’re all aware Matron is a little heavy-handed with the rules at times.’ They reached the Esplanade and Randy waved them across the road. ‘Better to go this way. We can’t risk being spotted.’
They headed in the opposite direction to Olive’s hut so they didn’t walk directly in front of Oakley West and risk all the residents seeing them as they enjoyed the entertainment in the lounge.
‘What do you get up to when you escape?’ Veronica asked.
‘That all depends,’ Randy said. ‘On a nice evening like this I tend to go for a long walk along the promenade. The rest of the time I go for a cheeky pint or two at The George Arms. Far better than the retched entertainment they put on.’
‘Anything’s better than that. I don’t know why I’ve sat through them sometimes. I just feel sorry for the acts.’ Veronica didn’t hold back on her review. Good job they didn’t have retirement homes on TripAdvisor.
‘How do you get back in then?’ Olive asked the question, curious as to how Randy worked this whole-evening escape.
‘Same way we came out. That side door is activated by a card system and I have one on loan.’ Randy winked and tapped the top pocket of his chequered shirt. ‘The only stipulation is I have to be back before eleven, so there’s a bit of a curfew, but my clubbing days are pretty much over so it’s not exactly a hardship to be back by then. It’s because I have to go through the staff bedroom to get back, so it’s only polite I head back through there before anyone is in bed.’
‘Do you mind if we escape with you? Will it get you in trouble?’ Getting out of the building wasn’t proving to be straightforward, but as Randy had already solved most of the problems it would be great if they could just tag along. Even if it was cheeky.
‘I don’t mind if it’s just you two. But you can’t let anyone else know. I don’t want to get any of the staff in trouble. Anyway, what I want to know is, what are you two going to be getting up to at the beach hut?’
‘It’s no beach hut. It’s The Gin Shack Club.’ Veronica readily blurted out information again.
Olive was about to tell her off for letting their secret out of the bag so easily, but then Randy had just helped them out in a rather big way, so it was only right for him to know what they were up to.
‘The Gin Shack, you say? So, what goes on there?’
‘We drink gin,’ Veronica said. ‘I would have thought that was pretty self-explanatory.’
‘Not just any gin.’ Olive was quick to correct. ‘Speciality gins. We’re on a mission to find the perfect G&T.’ It was nice to think it was now a shared mission.
‘Well, The George Arms does a good ale, but I might have to switch loyalties. If it’s a club, does that mean I can join?’
They stopped on the corner of the road as they reached the next T-junction. The pub was just a few hundred metres along, the establishment attached to one of the hotels along the Esplanade.
Olive shrugged. If it was going to be a club and a regular social event in their calendar, she figured the more the merrier. ‘Why not? I’m hoping it’s going to be lots of fun. Shall we walk down to the shack?’ Olive was enjoying this. Okay, so moving into retirement quarters had caused a change in her lifestyle, but the benefits were already beginning to show themselves.
The trio crossed the Esplanade and wandered towards the slope that would take them onto the promenade. Doubling back this way meant there was no danger of anyone from Oakley West spotting them.
‘Who else belongs to this club then? Or is it just the three of us?’ Randy asked.
‘We’re not officially starting until next week. But my beach-hut neighbour, Skylar, wants to join us. She’s going to start getting a babysitter especially.’ Four people didn’t seem like much of a club. Although given the spatial restrictions a beach hut provided, they could declare themselves at full capacity. The thought gave her an idea. ‘Maybe I should invite my other beach-hut neighbours? That way I’ll get to see them all at least once a week.’
Olive was missing the beach-hut way of life. Bumping into each other whenever they were visiting the sands was part of the routine here. As Olive used to be at her hut most days, she would hear all the tales from her neighbours. How Tony was one hundred per cent certain he was going to be made redundant. How TJ was doing everything other than settle down to study in the run-up to his A-levels. How Lily was worried she’d never fall pregnant naturally. How Lucas changed his position on whether he liked pasta every time Skylar cooked it for him. Her friends shared everything with her from the life-defining to the trivia of the everyday. It was a privilege to be their confidante and she missed that. She wanted to continue hearing those stories. And maybe The Gin Shack Club was a way of keeping those friendships alive in the absence of being able to come and go as she pleased.
‘Sounds like a good plan to me,’ Veronica said.
‘Excellent. In that case I’ll make sure I send out some invitations. Next Friday evening The Gin Shack Club will officially non-officially open.’
‘Very happy to be onboard,’ Randy said. ‘Let me know if you need any help with anything. It will make the week more interesting than usual.’
Olive had a little think about what would need to be organised as they meandered their way towards the beach huts. The tide was out and the expanse of sand was one of the best she knew of, the serenade of the sea wishing them all well as they indulged in a moment of contemplation.
‘I’d like to say helping us escape every week is going to be enough, but, thinking on it, I’m going to need you both to help if this is going to be a regular thing.’
‘Just tell us what you need,’ Veronica said.
‘I’m hoping with any luck at least one of you is computer-savvy and happy to give your computer-room time up to help.’
‘I get by with most techy things,’ Randy said.
‘You might not need to worry about computer-room privileges. I have enough gadgets and knowhow to keep us all online.’ It was Veronica’s turn to have a sparkle in her eye. ‘I think we all might have our secret talents that’ll come in handy.’
It seemed there was no end to the surprises this evening. And one thing was clear: the fun was just beginning.
Chapter Nine
The set-up reminded Olive of the parents’ evenings she used to attend at her children’s schools. Matron’s office was not dissimilar fr
om a headmaster’s, only with plusher fixtures and fittings, the fact Oakley West used to be a hotel still evident.
In front of her, Matron had paperwork in hand, with notes on Olive for every day she’d been living there. ‘Your mother has enjoyed a wide variety of activities from lawn croquet to cheese sampling.’
Yeah, it was a whole barrel of laughs at Oakley West, but at least Olive hadn’t found herself bored yet. Although not because of any of the details held within Matron’s log sheets.
Richard listened to Matron’s report like an eager parent hoping their child was performing above average. ‘Sounds like you’re settling in well by the sounds of what Matron is saying.’
Olive smiled. That fake-smiling-for-the-camera kind of smile. She’d spent the whole meeting nodding in the right places and making sure her halo was in place. She didn’t want Richard getting wind of anything to do with The Gin Shack Club, so making sure all his hopes were fulfilled and ticking all Matron’s “good-resident” boxes was essential at the moment. ‘I’m enjoying it here much more than I ever thought I would. They’re certainly keeping me busy.’ They didn’t need to know about the extra-curricular activities taking place. Hopefully they never would, if she could keep the sweet, innocent OAP act up for as long as possible.
‘It sounds like you don’t need the beach hut then if you’re being kept so busy here.’
Olive sat up straighter, her fight or flight instinct kicking in. Technically, the beach hut was no longer in her name. When Richard had kindly offered to go to the offices to pay the annual fee, he’d also put his name on the lease. And now he was holding it over her like she’d known he would. It was predictably a Richard thing to do; his need to control situations always at the forefront of their relationship. It had been that way ever since Olive had unexpectedly become a lone parent. In the aftermath, Olive had survived day to day, not wanting to look forward or back, but Richard had become more reserved. There were days he was a ball of anger waiting to explode, but he also became kind and thoughtful in unexpected ways. He must have been about eleven when he first treated her to dinner. Fish and chips at the beach straight out of the wrapper. Knowing that by the end of the month their menu was reduced to store-cupboard staples, he started to save his pocket money for their monthly treat.
It had been a kind gesture at a particularly turbulent time. In part, Olive had felt guilty he found the need to act so responsibly at such a young age when most would have wanted to spend their pennies on sweets. But at a time when all the fundamentals of their lives had changed, it was a new phase; a time to form rituals of their own.
While it had been one of the things that brought them together, it was also the start of Richard’s overbearing nature. Of his need to protect in ways that weren’t necessary. And here he was, at it again. There was mollycoddling and then there was interfering where it wasn’t welcome. ‘Not at all. In fact, I’d like the opposite. That beach hut is my sanctuary. It would be nice to have more chances to visit there. However much I’ve enjoyed some of the activities here, I think I’m quite old enough to have worked out my preferences already and spending time at the beach is one of them.’
‘I think the beach hut is a very therapeutic outlet,’ Matron said. ‘I was hoping, if Olive was agreeable, that our activities coordinator could use it for our weekly beach trip. It would be beneficial for the residents to have a base on their trips there and it would put it to excellent use. We could add another weekly trip to the beach to the timetable over the summer.’
‘That seems like a nice idea. You could go down with the group, mum. You’d get your extra time there that way.’
‘Hang on a second.’ Olive’s halo slipped down to her shoulders. Over the years she’d had to tread a fine line between appreciating Richard’s concern and pointing out when it wasn’t necessary. This was one of those moments when she didn’t want to offend, but needed to stick up for what was right. And on this occasion, if she screwed up, The Gin Shack Club would never come into existence. She cleared her throat and hoped the halo wasn’t too far gone as a result of her short outburst. ‘What I mean to say is… it sounds like a wonderful idea and I’d be happy to join the group when they go there, but I would still like the opportunity to visit, just Veronica and I. A daily walk will do us the world of good.’ She could have put forward many more reasons why it would be to her benefit, but as Matron wanted to make use of the hut it seemed like a good bartering card. Hopefully, it would become a quid pro quo situation.
‘Daily? We’re not paying for you to live here for you to then not make use of everything that’s on offer,’ Richard said.
Olive wanted to shake her head. To despair at how it seemed to have gone wrong somewhere along the way. Couldn’t her son see that swaddling her in this way was more harmful to her health and sanity and would do her no good? A lifetime of trying to prove she was quite capable at most things hadn’t rubbed off yet. ‘Darling…’ She offered her sweetest smile. ‘When you go for an all-you-can-eat buffet, you pay a set price, right?’
Richard stared back at her blankly, so Olive continued regardless.
‘So, everyone, no matter how big their appetite, pays the same. Whether they have one plate of food or twenty-five of them. The point I’m trying to make is that they’ll eat until they’re satisfied. So the amount of food that’ll make one customer happy will differ from another. The same is true of Oakley West. It’s an all-you-can-eat selection of activities and while some people will take part in everything, some of us prefer to eat less. I mean do less. But either way, we’re both satisfied customers and have our money’s worth. It’s okay to be the woman who’s happy with one plate.’ Olive couldn’t think of a better way to explain it to her son. Sometimes in life less was most definitely more.
‘Lovely analogy, mother, but we’re not talking about stuffing your face with too many noodles. We’re on about what’s best for you in your latter years. The activities are designed to engage you mentally and physically. They’re meant to be for your benefit.’
Olive wasn’t entirely sure how tasting a variety of cheeses, none of which were new to her, was in any way mentally engaging. She may be getting on in years, but she hadn’t lost it… yet.
‘I think outdoor activities, especially when the weather is nice, have a very positive effect on our residents.’
It was a surprise to find Matron on Olive’s side. She’d always seemed starchy up until now, but then she was trying to butter her up in the hope she’d say yes to allowing Melanie, the activities coordinator, access to the beach hut.
‘My concern is that I don’t want Mum to spend too much time down there unsupervised. She’s of an age where it’s far more likely she’ll fall and break a hip and I don’t want that to happen while she’s alone.’
‘Richard, could you stop being so bloody ageist?’ Like waving a red flag at a bull, Olive’s halo quickly slipped at the very mention of anything to do with age having any bearing on what she was capable of. It was not his place to put limits on her abilities. ‘Veronica will be with me and we may be golden oldies to you, but we like to think we’re perfectly able.’ Because they bloody well were.
‘I’m sorry, Mother, but sometimes there’s not a polite way to put these things. I don’t have any cute analogies to crack out. I just want you to start looking after yourself.’
‘Going to the beach is hardly such a wild activity that it’ll be the cause of me popping my clogs.’ Olive didn’t want to get heated with her son in front of Matron, but he was so stuck in his ways. These days it was very much like he was the parent and she was the child and he wasn’t able to see how being so protective wasn’t necessary. Surely they were past that now she was living here.
‘Olive is right – we shouldn’t let a number get in the way of determining what a person is capable of. Now if she was heading down to the beach in order to join in with all the windsurfing, then I would put my foot down, don’t you worry, Mr Turner. But as
far as I can work out we are just talking about Olive and Veronica walking down to the seafront and having a rather pleasant cuppa and a chat. The exercise and fresh air is bound to benefit them. So perhaps if we could hold two sessions at the beach hut, Olive and Veronica could enjoy two or three visits there a week.’ Matron raised an eyebrow and kept her steely stare on Richard.
Olive certainly wouldn’t want to argue with her and she wasn’t one to be backward in going forward.
Judging by Richard’s expression, he wasn’t going to disagree either. ‘I’ll go with whatever you think is best, but if I do find she’s been windsurfing, there’ll be a serious conversation to be had.’
Matron peered at her in the way her mother used to. It was undoubtedly a statement that said: Don’t. You. Dare.
Shifting the halo back into place, Olive gave her most angelic look in response. Of course all she would ever do was engage in pleasant tea and chat.
‘That’s settled then. We’ll sort out a new schedule starting Monday and I’ll make sure I email it to you, Mr Turner. That way you’ll know when your mum is at the beach. We can always message you to let you know she’s back safely if you’re concerned.’
Richard loosened his tie. Why couldn’t he wear jeans and a casual shirt like most normal people? Instead he dressed like he was always needed back at the office ASAP. ‘That won’t be necessary. But do message me if she ever doesn’t return when you’re expecting her here.’
‘Of course. We’d do that anyway. But I’ve not lost a resident yet and I don’t plan to any time soon.’
Part of Olive wanted to grumble that they’d started to talk as if she wasn’t in the room. But having gained more daytime access to the hut, she wasn’t going to upset the apple cart by complaining.
‘Glad to hear it,’ Richard said.
‘Now, Mr Turner, did you want to see any of the activities in progress? Or stay for lunch?’
‘That’s very kind, but I need to get going.’
The Gin Shack on the Beach Page 7