The Gin Shack on the Beach

by Catherine Miller

  ‘Are you having to work on a Saturday, Mr Turner? That’s a shame.’

  Olive suddenly felt a bit like a gooseberry. Was it her imagination, or was Matron trying to chat her son up? Richard was forty-eight and Matron must be early fifties. Not such a mismatch that it wasn’t possible. The thought made her shudder.

  ‘Work can be a twenty-four-seven business, as I’m sure you’re aware. No hour of the day is sacred when you run your own company.’ Richard stood up and brushed off any signs of interest by returning zero of his own. ‘Do you want to walk me out, Mum?’

  Olive would have loved her son to settle down, to find someone able to put up with his forthright ways, but she certainly didn’t want it to be Matron. God, that kind of coupling would create a complete monopoly on her life. ‘I’d love to.’

  As they left the plush office, Olive dished out her own don’t-you-dare stare. Two could play at that game and she wasn’t silly enough to think she’d won Matron over. It was because she had something she wanted. Access to her beach hut was one thing, letting her get her hands on her son was another.

  ‘I’m glad you’re settling in well here. It’s very reassuring,’ Richard said

  ‘I wasn’t lying when I said I’m enjoying it. It’s far more agreeable than I ever thought it would be.’ It was the other residents more than anything making her feel welcome.

  Richard didn’t look any less stressed than on other trips, though. Even though he’d tried to hand over responsibility for her care, he didn’t looked relaxed about the fact. ‘Please, for me, do take care when you go to the beach.’

  ‘My friend will be with me so there’s nothing to worry about. Honestly, you’re worse than a mother hen at times.’ If anything, his concern was heightened now she was at Oakley. Maybe it was work stressing him out.

  ‘Well, we both know Matron will be keeping an eye on you whether you like it or not, so at least I know you’re being made to behave.’

  Who wanted to behave in their eighth decade? And what a waste if she did. ‘When have I ever not behaved? Enjoying the beach is not a crime.’

  ‘You’re right. And I should stop worrying so much. It’s just nice to know you’re being looked after in my absence.’

  ‘Do you have to go? I thought you’d be staying for lunch.’ They’d missed their last monthly dinner together. It was the first time in a long while they hadn’t done it. She’d been left strangely bereft by its absence.

  ‘I have to head back. There’s a big court case coming up.’

  Olive glanced round the lobby, a strange sense of loss passing through her. She didn’t get to see Richard much as it was. It would cause her great sadness if moving here meant they stopped their monthly dinner together. Sometimes it felt like it was the only thing keeping them together as a family. ‘Okay, son,’ she croaked, swallowing the unexpected emotion.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’ll make sure I stay longer next time.’

  Olive righted herself. She didn’t want to get upset in front of her son. It was just how things were. ‘Next visit you should stay for lunch. The grub is pretty decent. Far better than anything I ever rustled up for you. It’s stew and dumplings today.’ The joy of a rigid timetable meant she knew what meals were worth looking forward to.

  ‘I will. Love you, Mum.’ Richard planted a tender kiss on Olive’s forehead, but it didn’t wash away the tension that lay between them. That ever-present sense that, however much they were trying to do right by each other, they were for ever hitting the wrong note, unable to live in harmony no matter how hard they tried.

  ‘Love you, son. Now go and be important.’ Olive knew his job was everything. It was the reason she’d not been blessed with grandkids. It was the reason she was a resident here. It was why he needed to go now. But if it made him happy, then that was what was important. She just hoped he wasn’t blind to the fact she needed to be happy as well.

  Chapter Ten

  On Tuesday morning, Olive and Veronica’s exit from Oakley West went unnoticed and it was a good job really, given what they needed to achieve. They needed to hide the gin so it wasn’t discovered when Oakley West made use of the hut.

  Randy was on a separate mission. His job was to make up the invites and research new gins to try. This week they could manage from Olive’s stock, but from the following week onwards they needed to source more.

  Stock was what was on Olive’s mind this morning. If she was allowing the hut to be used by other people they would need to find a way of preventing the gin being found.

  Olive opened the ottoman and removed the blanket. ‘It’s never going to be secure enough in here without a lock. Anyone could open it.’ She was pretty sure the stash would be found within a couple of weeks if they left it in here.

  ‘What about the cupboard? Can’t we stash them there?’ Veronica suggested.

  ‘It’s already full and the bottles are too big to stand upright.’ Olive opened the cupboard to see if there was more space than when she last checked. It was full of glasses and a variety of different tonics. She would need more of both if they were going to be hosting lots of guests. ‘We could fit one bottle in here at a squeeze.’

  ‘What are we going to do? They’ll be here in a few hours.’

  There weren’t any other places to hide them unless they slipped them under the floorboards, and as she didn’t want to lift them, for fear the hut might collapse, it only left one other option. ‘I’m hoping Skylar won’t mind stashing them in her hut temporarily until we find a better solution. I’ve messaged her, so fingers crossed she can get down here at this time of morning.’ It might be problematic given the time and not having anyone at home to look after Lucas. Popping out wasn’t an easy option for Skylar.

  ‘What if she doesn’t get here in time? We need to head back by seven-thirty at the latest.’

  ‘I haven’t come up with a plan B yet.’ Olive was really hoping she didn’t have to.

  ‘We could always bury them. Maybe round the back so no one from the metal detector crew would find them.’

  Olive had images of them digging a massive hole to hide the ottoman like buried treasure; burying the bottles individually was also an option, but she really didn’t think the sand would help with the flavour, even if it added a new texture. ‘We just have to hope Skylar gets here in time.’ It was still early. It was unlikely Skylar would arrive until closer to the school run, when she would take Lucas to his breakfast club. ‘How about we go for a dip?’

  ‘I haven’t brought my swimming gear.’

  ‘That’s okay. I’ve got plenty of towels in the beach hut.’ Olive kept a stack of clean, dry towels here for whenever needed.

  ‘No, I mean my costume. I didn’t put it on underneath my clothes this morning as I didn’t think we’d have time.’

  ‘Ah, well, you’ve been doing it wrong all along. Follow me.’

  Olive wasn’t sure how close their bond of friendship had become, and this might well and truly extinguish it, but she was going to take the risk of Veronica thinking she was bonkers.

  The bay was displaying its finest splendour today, the expanse of sand dusted with seaweed and chalk creating small pools before reaching the water. The sea was calm and bobbed away in the gentlest way it knew how.

  ‘You might want to avert your eyes for a couple of minutes.’

  ‘Why?’

  Olive started to take her top off.

  ‘Oh.’ Veronica was quick to avert her gaze after that.

  ‘I probably should have warned you, but I never did find a wetsuit in my size. So one day I figured, why not?’ Olive removed the rest of her clothes swiftly. She went into the sea at such a pace it took the air from her lungs.

  Veronica stopped peering in the direction of the cliffs. ‘Are you okay?’

  Olive gasped, one after another to catch her breath. ‘It’s fucking cold,’ she said before bursting into a stuttered giggle.

  Veronica surveyed the
whole beach before saying, ‘Your turn to look away.’

  Olive did as she was told. ‘You don’t have to join me, you know.’ As she said it, she heard the familiar splash of feet hitting the water.

  ‘Life’s too short to not dance in the rain,’ Veronica hollered out.

  The statement made Olive giggle. ‘Life’s too short to not eat the entire box of chocolates by yourself,’ she shouted towards the ocean.

  ‘Life’s too short to not get breathless for all the wrong reasons.’

  ‘Life’s too short to not start secret clubs.’

  ‘Life’s too short to not go skinny-dipping.’

  They roared the words into the sea like the waves might take them and pass them on in knowledgeable whispers to others. And Olive and Veronica giggled and laughed and belly-chuckled like the act of being naked in the sea had made them seventeen again. And for a moment Olive truly was. It was true. Life was too short. She knew it firsthand. She was lucky to have lived a long life. Eighty-four was way beyond the age she’d thought she would reach. And as her time left was shorter than ever, she planned to live it to the max. While bingo and knitting groups were a form of entertainment, they weren’t a patch on skinny-dipping and swilling gin with friends at the seaside. She wasn’t dead yet and she had no intention of doing anything other than live her life to the max in the best ways she knew how.

  Chapter Eleven

  They returned to Oakley West later than planned. Like teenage versions of themselves they’d splashed and laughed to the point their lungs hurt all over again. Olive couldn’t recall the last time she’d had such exhilarating fun. The kind where every part of her body knew she’d been laughing. The giggling didn’t stop when they got out, or when they got dressed, or when Skylar arrived with Lucas and wondered what was so funny. And in trying to explain it, they weren’t able to, and it became one of those explanations where you just needed to be there, and that in itself made them laugh some more.

  Having transferred all the alcohol to Skylar’s beach hut, temporarily, so there weren’t bottles of alcohol standing there when Lucas next visited the sands, they continued their giggles along the promenade. The closer they got to Oakley West, the more they tried to stifle them, and the harder it became to keep a straight face. They’d reverted to being schoolgirls and it was the tonic that had been missing from Olive’s gin.

  ‘Oh. Oh. Oh. My ribs ache. I need to breathe.’ Veronica stopped and held her side, the urge to giggle still very evident.

  Olive did the same. ‘I. Can’t. Remember. When. I. Last. Laughed. This. Much.’ It was a struggle to get the words out when she still wanted to laugh. She couldn’t even remember why it was so funny, but somehow that made her want to laugh more.

  ‘Come on. We’re already late. We’d best get a grip on ourselves before we go back in.’

  Olive took some deep breaths. They couldn’t return in this state. They’d get caught slipping back inside in an instant and where would that leave them? In a lot of trouble, no doubt. They would certainly be treated like naughty schoolgirls and more closely supervised in future. And this was something they couldn’t afford to let happen given what they were planning. ‘Okay. I’m okay. I’m not going to laugh any more.’ There was a giggle trying to work its way up from her abdomen, but she swallowed it down. She was a grown woman. She could conduct herself in a serious manner when needed.

  ‘Right. Time to get back inside before anyone notices we’re gone.’

  They’d walked the longer route again to make sure they weren’t spotted. The delivery vans had already disappeared from the car park so they were in danger. The staff’s period of occupation was over. The usual window of time Veronica stuck to had passed. They reached the fire exit, and there was something worryingly different.

  The usual wedge of paper that kept the door open was missing and their route back inside was firmly shut.

  ‘Bollocks,’ Veronica said.

  Hearing her usually polite friend swear nearly set Olive off again. She took another deep breath so she didn’t start up again. This was not a situation to laugh at. ‘What the hell do we do?’

  ‘I don’t bloody know. We can’t just walk in the front. We’ll never be able to explain ourselves.’

  Their hair was only towel-dried and it would be pretty evident they’d been up to something they shouldn’t. That and the fact that they were returning from outside, which would be pretty concrete proof.

  ‘Bloody bollocks,’ Olive said, not sure what else to say. ‘We should have borrowed that swipe card Randy has. We could have got through the back route that way.’

  ‘Is there any way we can get hold of him? He could be our knight in shining armour. I’m sure he’d love that.’

  ‘I don’t have my mobile and I don’t know his number off by heart even if we could find a payphone.’ Olive’s mobile phone was in her room. It was one of the few modern luxuries she enjoyed. Facebook meant she kept up with faraway family members and it was nice to stay in touch with everyone. But she didn’t check her phone often and didn’t tend to keep it with her, something Richard often told her off for. It was at moments like this she realised how handy it would be to have it on her person.

  ‘I didn’t take mine to the beach either, so I guess that’s the end of that idea.’

  ‘Throwing stones at his window isn’t possible unless you can do killer backhanders that’ll land in the right place?’ As his room was a floor up and Olive had no idea which window was his, this was testament to how desperate she was feeling.

  ‘Sadly not. Our only option is the front. Maybe if we pop in now, no one will notice?’

  ‘We can’t do that. There’s always someone on the desk and if we claim to have been out for an early-morning stroll, we can’t quite explain how they didn’t see us go out. Let’s just have a think for a minute. There must be some way of getting back in undetected.’

  Olive checked the door again in the hope that, by some miracle, the wedge was back where it should be, allowing them to open it without difficulty. No such luck. And with them unable to get hold of Randy, she was unsure what to do without blowing their cover.

  ‘Does Randy have a phone line in his room?’ It was a long shot, but there might be some chance of getting hold of him.

  ‘All the rooms have a landline, don’t they?’ Veronica said.

  It was one of the throwbacks to its being a hotel, but also a useful feature if they ever needed anything, as they could simply ring down to let the staff know. It was also available for friends and relatives to ring you for a chat. As yet, Olive hadn’t needed to use her landline, but if they could get to a phone, they might be able to get hold of Randy. ‘We’d better move quickly before he leaves his room for breakfast.’

  It was possible they were already too late.

  ‘Where’s the nearest phone?’

  Olive shrugged. The nearest phone box she knew off was in the other direction towards the railway bridge. ‘The George Arms. They must have one there. And as there’s a hotel, even if the pub isn’t open, someone on reception might be able to help us.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  It had been many years since Olive had moved so quickly and, for the first time in her life, she would have quite liked a mobility scooter to make the journey altogether easier. For the third time that morning, she found herself out of puff.

  When they reached The George Arms, they needed to stop again to catch their breath.

  ‘Now I know why all the kids go round on micro-scooters,’ Veronica said.

  It wasn’t the scooter she’d had in mind, but Olive would have taken any means of transport to get out of that sprint. ‘Right, we better go and see if we can get hold of Randy.’

  Thankfully, there was a friendly receptionist there with nothing better to do and when they said they were locked out, her concern for their welfare meant she was very happy to pass the phone over.

  ‘Can I speak to Randy, please
?’ Olive said, trying to disguise the fact she was breathing like she’d run a marathon.

  At first she didn’t think they were going to put her through. There was every possibility the member of staff at the other end of the phone didn’t believe she was his granddaughter (she didn’t even know if he had grandchildren) and that there was already a Code Red status with two residents missing. It was a great relief, then, when Randy did answer.

  ‘We’re locked out. Someone’s closed the exit.’

  ‘Is that Olive? Where are you calling from?’

  After confirming it was and where they were, Randy was quick to come up with a military-style plan. It involved exact timings of when they were to be where and what they had to do.

  Their first instruction was to get some breakfast at The George Arms. Fortunately, despite not having a phone between them, they both had some money. Veronica had a note stashed in her bra for emergencies and Olive had a small coin purse in her pocket.

  It felt rather extravagant to dine in the bar having got used to all her meals being provided. Before the move to Oakley West, Olive would sometimes eat in the local beach café. She found no joy in cooking just for herself. But often she would dine alone. Perhaps she would chat with the patrons or another regular customer, but these days she was surprised to admit to herself that she preferred eating at the retirement quarters. Not because the food was particularly spectacular, although it was very decent, but because of the regular company she now kept as a result.

  She had that same spirit at the beach hut when they all enjoyed their bacon sandwiches together, but that never changed the fact that she returned to silence. That no one was waiting for her at home and there was no one to have a conversation with over dinner. Not that that stopped her. She would quite often have dinnertime conversations with herself. It was rather therapeutic, she found, to air her thoughts, even if there was no one to listen. But she was thankful that, these days, her network of friends had expanded and she got to share whatever was on her mind.

  When The George Arms’s version of a full English arrived, Olive realised how lucky they were to be living at Oakley West because the food was certainly better cooked and less greasy. Still, this meant they wouldn’t be going without a meal despite being locked out.