Catherine Miller - The Gin Shack on the Beach

Luckily, her son seemed to be oblivious. Richard was too busy making sure she was okay. Ensuring she was mollycoddled to the nth degree. His concern for her was sweet. It had been that way ever since it was just the two of them, but there were times when it suffocated her. She was the parent. Even in her eighties, it felt like it should be her looking after him, not the other way round.

When the tour was at last over and Richard was satisfied she was settled enough, it was a pleasure to finally be able to close the door and have some time to herself. She was tired. It was only three in the afternoon, but it had been quite the day. Life had changed beyond recognition. These four walls were the new confines of her life and, although it was something she’d agreed to, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.

The moment that had driven her decision flicked into her mind. The time a teabag became a flying saucer and she wasn’t able to move. She was here in case it ever happened again. She was here to be looked after, and even if Matron was a prickly personality to deal with, she needed to make it her home.

Remembering some items she’d packed in hopes of creating a sense of homely comfort, Olive raided her suitcase.

It was something she normally did at the beach hut. Her end-of-day ritual. She’d not thought to pack a glass. She’d thought there’d be some in the room, but it seemed she would need to supply her own. There was a teapot with two cups and saucers by the kettle. It was very quaint and B&B-like. It wasn’t how she’d usually prepare a G&T, but the teapot provided a perfect mixing vessel.

Carefully, Olive measured the gin and tonic in the correct proportions for her tastes before adding some lemon slices and a sprig of mint. She’d not worked out how to transport ice cubes so it was lacking in one aspect, but it was better than nothing. She replaced the gin in her bag, hiding it in case her son returned. It was a local variety that her husband, John, had favoured. To this day, it remained one of her top choices and she was never too sure if that was down to the taste or nostalgia. She suspected both.

Olive had a choice of places to sit and enjoy her drink and she opted for the obvious: the high-backed chair in the bay window that enjoyed views of the bay. It really was the perfect spot. It was a dream to have this view. A lifetime of wishful thinking had finally given her the perfect vantage point of her beloved beach. So, it was bittersweet to raise her glass, or rather teacup, as she always did, wishing John and Jane well, wherever they were.

It was no good, though. However pleasant it was drinking G&T poured from a teapot, gazing out at the perfect view, it wasn’t the same as having her evening nightcap on the patio of her beach hut. There was something more grounding about being at one with the lapping waves and the sea breeze. There, she was somehow more connected to the past.

The rules Matron imposed on Oakley West were all very well and good, but not if she wanted to enjoy a quiet G&T at the end of the day as she always did. And if Matron wasn’t going to let her out for an evening stroll by herself, then she’d have to find a way to make it happen without her knowing.

Chapter Four

‘Two fat ladies. Eighty-eight,’ Melanie, the activities coordinator called out.

Olive was three days into bootcamp and having something to do for every portion of the day wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. In fact, it was driving her crackers. There had been crochet for beginners, a cookery class, quizzes, walks, talks – and some days that was all before breakfast. The one thing keeping her going to every activity at the moment wasn’t a new-found zest for extra hobbies. It was because she’d spotted a familiar figure among the residents, but as yet hadn’t managed to pin her down.

It meant Olive wasn’t concentrating on the bingo numbers in front of her. She’d never had any desire to play bingo in her life and wasn’t about to start now.

She was distracted by the fact she’d struck gold. Which was fortunate as she had no desire to partake in tomorrow morning’s crazy golf competition. Honestly, who’d come up with the list of activities OAPs wanted to participate in here? If it was Melanie, she’d have words with her as soon as she got the chance. But right now, all she was interested in was speaking to the woman four chairs along from her.

Olive was almost certain, though not entirely sure, that it was the Tuesday-morning woman. The same lady she’d spoken to all those months ago. The one who’d told her swimming in the sea was like oxygen. The same woman she waved to every time she was at the beach when they were the only solitary figures on the sands. Which meant she knew a very important secret… How to escape from Oakley West unnoticed.

Attempts to grab her attention weren’t working, the woman far more enthralled in the game of bingo than Olive ever could be. Even dropping her dabber on the floor and retrieving it wasn’t enough to redirect her focus.

‘Everything okay over there, Olive?’ Melanie, activities coordinator extraordinaire, asked.

It was like being the new girl at school. They were using her first name as frequently as possible to make her feel welcome and included. Olive smiled and waved her pen to indicate she was fine. Even that didn’t shift the woman’s gaze.

‘Bingo!’

Olive’s heart skipped a beat at the enthusiastic yell. Bloomin’ hell, it really wasn’t as relaxing as the pamphlets made out if she was going to pop her clogs within less than a week on the back of a resident winning a box of chocolates.

The heart-attack-inducing yell came from a lady near to Melanie and the whooping and yelling made Olive gawp for a while. Was this really the kind of thing she would end up excited by if she was here for long enough?

When the gent next to her stood up and obscured her view, Olive realised she’d taken her eye off the ball. The lady she was trying to grab the attention of was already up and making her way out of the room.

‘You’re new here, aren’t you?’ The gent held out a hand. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Randolph, but my friends call me Randy.’

‘Olive.’ She stood and shook the man’s hand. ‘I don’t suppose you know who that is?’ Olive pointed to the lady who was leaving the large day room.

‘That’s Veronica. Why do you ask?’

Olive paid a bit more attention to Randy now she knew she had no chance of catching up with Veronica. ‘I thought I recognised her, but I wasn’t sure where from. But, seeing as I’ve moved here now, I’ll no doubt get to speak to her at some point.’

‘Have you settled in okay?’

‘It’s hard to say. I’ve only been here for a few days. My son kindly deposited me and left me to get on with the activity programme.’

‘Families can be kind like that, can’t they?’

‘Yours too? My son runs a business up in London. I think I’m a bit of an inconvenience at times. This should make things a bit easier for both of us.’

‘My daughter is the same. But I think you’ll find you’ll like living at Oakley West. On the whole, it’s a nice bunch of people living here and the staff aren’t all bad especially if you get them on your side.’ Randy offered a cheeky smile which made Olive wonder what he meant by having them on your side. ‘Have you had a tour?’

‘Yes, Matron showed my son and I around when we got here.’

‘Not the official tour. I mean the unofficial one.’ There was a twinkle in Randy’s eyes beneath his dark, bushy eyebrows. She really hoped he wasn’t Randy by name, randy by nature. It would be just her luck if, by saying yes, she ended up as the new girl being seduced by the resident silver fox.

‘How’s that different from the official one?’