The Gin Shack on the Beach

by Catherine Miller

  ‘I’ve spent fifty years searching for the perfect G&T. I’m yet to find it. I think continuing that search is a pretty good way to spend our evenings here.’

  ‘I’m in,’ Skylar said. ‘If you two manage to get down here one evening, I’m getting a babysitter so I can come and join you. Why didn’t you tell me about this before?’

  Olive shrugged her shoulders. It wasn’t that she’d intended to keep it a secret, just that she didn’t want to endure disapproving looks from her son. Gin was mother’s ruin, isn’t that what they said? But she never had more than one or two. She was very good at not overdoing it. As far as she was concerned it was the opposite of her ruin. Some days it was what continued to give her that spark for life.

  ‘It’s a bit earlier than I normally would, but it’s the only chance we’ll have today. Can I interest you both in having a gin and tonic?’

  ‘Wild horses won’t stop me,’ Veronica said.

  It made Olive grin. They were definitely kindred spirits and she was already glad to be sharing her hobby with friends.

  Skylar was admiring the bottles like they were rare jewels, and in some cases they practically were. ‘A small one should be okay. We walked here so I don’t need to drive.’

  Olive spotted a delighted twinkle in Skylar’s eyes. It was either that or the reflection of the bottles.

  ‘Marvellous. Well, in that case, I have something a little special I’ve been waiting to try. My friend sent me some violet syrup. Apparently, if you add it to your G&T you have a Parma violet gin. That sounded rather fun, but I’ve not got round to trying it yet. Would you like me to make you both one?’

  ‘You just combined childhood sweets with alcohol. Of course I’d love to try one,’ Skylar said.

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Fabulous. I never really liked Parma violets as a child, so I’ll have to see if the flavour is more acceptable in the form of alcohol.’ Olive set about putting the drinks together. It was a shame she was having to forgo ice cubes. They were an essential part of a G&T and, as she wasn’t able to have a fridge-freezer in the hut, she’d taken to using reusable freezable ice cubes. They weren’t the same as the real McCoy, but they were a means to an end. It did the job even if the magical sound of ice chinking on glass was missing. But today she didn’t even have those, not having been able to find anywhere to freeze them at Oakley West without raising questions. As she added the violet syrup to the G&Ts they each started to turn a bright purple. Stirring the liquid in with straws, she hoped she’d not added too much. They’d soon know if the taste was too overpowering.

  ‘Here we go,’ Olive said as she passed the drinks to her two guests.

  ‘Wow. These look amazing,’ Skylar said.

  ‘To beach-hut trips,’ Olive said, raising her glass in a toast.

  ‘This isn’t a beach hut,’ Veronica said. ‘This is a gin shack.’ She raised her glass with a smile. ‘To The Gin Shack.’

  And it was as simple as that. With a round of toasts and a lengthy discussion on what they thought of the Parma violet flavour, The Gin Shack Club was born.

  Chapter Eight

  Olive had always known life at Oakley West would take some getting used to. It wasn’t quite the tortuous process she’d imagined, where she was stripped of her identity. In fact it was far more like the cruise-ship retirement she’d once hoped for. It was an existence where she didn’t have to want for anything. The ex-hotel was so large it was almost like being on a cruise liner, only without a built-in bowling alley or cinema. Everything she needed was available to her. The only thing absent was towel origami. If the staff could start cracking out some towels folded as swans then she’d really feel she’d arrived.

  However nice it was to feel cared for in that on-holiday type of way, however, it didn’t make up for the sense of feeling trapped. It was the same as being on a ship and not being able to get off unless it was an organised trip when they were in port. It was only to be done in conjunction with the ship’s timetable.

  While it suited most of the residents, it wasn’t how Olive wanted to live her life. She’d already had a couple of moments where she’d wanted to shout: ‘We’re not on a boat. No one’s going to drown if we go out after dark.’ She controlled the need to vocalise her annoyance, not wanting to have herself marked as a troublemaker. Instead, she kept quiet, knowing that, along with Veronica, she was testing ways to get over the threshold without an entire women-overboard search being launched.

  Having perused the entertainment programme, they were opting for Friday night as the best time to escape. Every week they had a different act booked in to amuse the residents. It varied from singers to magicians to ventriloquists. According to Veronica they were generally not especially good, and when they were bad, most of the residents would make their way to bed early.

  ‘I think I’ll read my book this evening,’ Olive said to the auxiliary nurse who was currently in charge of her care.

  ‘Enjoy,’ she said. The young girl was busy making sure everyone who wanted one had a drink. They were certainly attentive here and choosing a time when she was distracted was a good moment to go. The plan was for Veronica to make a similar excuse a short while afterwards.

  Olive returned to her room and for a moment considered bundling up pillows in her bed to make it look like she was in it. She had no idea why she was quite so worried. They weren’t even planning on escaping tonight, just finding the best route to use. Wanting it to at least look like she’d been reading her book, she placed it on the bed, and somehow this made her worry less.

  Olive nearly dropped it when there was a gentle knock at the door. Despite knowing it was Veronica, she was clearly on edge. Who’d have thought trying to visit her beach hut would make her feel like a naughty schoolgirl?

  She opened the door quietly and slipped out. Hopefully they wouldn’t pass anyone on their travels, but if they did they planned to claim they were just having a walk, which was a perfectly plausible excuse as long as they weren’t anywhere restricted.

  Silently, they wandered along to where Veronica normally made her Tuesday-morning escape. They’d already chatted through whether this was a possibility. It was near the main staffroom, so, on a Tuesday when all the staff were occupied with deliveries, it was the perfect escape route, but they suspected the same wouldn’t be true on a Friday evening.

  As soon as they entered the stairwell it was evident because of the voices travelling from below that the route wasn’t clear and this way wouldn’t be an option.

  ‘Drat,’ Veronica said, perhaps a little too loudly as the voices from downstairs lowered, and they quickly made their way back through the heavy fire door.

  ‘Where next?’ Despite having lived here for the best part of a week, Olive still wasn’t familiar with the network of corridors.

  ‘The front isn’t an option. We’ll walk into way too many people. Do you know any other routes?’

  Olive shook her head. Surely there was some way to get out. ‘I only know one other way, but it’s a dead end so that’s no good.’

  ‘Let’s go and look anyway. It might lead us to another exit we don’t know about.’

  It took some effort to remember exactly where Randy had shown Olive the square patch of garden. From what she’d seen, she was sure there was no way out, but there were some unexplored corridors round that part of the building that might lead them somewhere. Of course, they were entering the section of the building they weren’t permitted in.

  ‘Here it is.’ Olive recognised the fire door propped open with a piece of card. Fortunately, there were a couple of windows out onto the courtyard so they were able to sneak a peek to see if anyone was out there. It seemed not.

  Unless, of course, they counted the two feet Olive spotted poking out from one of the bushes.

  ‘Is that what I think it looks like?’ Veronica asked.

  ‘It can’t be. We’d better check.’ It was dog-walkers who were supposed
to come across bodies. Not OAPs living in retirement quarters. Olive didn’t have any plans to become part of the next Rosemary and Thyme, and she dreaded to think what would happen when they needed to report finding a corpse in the courtyard.

  Veronica went at quite a pace to get through the fire exit to see what was going on.

  Olive’s response wasn’t so fast. It was like her body wasn’t going to cooperate with her thoughts. She would be useless in an emergency. She’d proven herself to be useless in an emergency. Perhaps that was why she was frozen to the spot – an acknowledgement that she didn’t know what to do when things took a turn for the worse.

  Giving herself a mental shake, Olive hotfooted after Veronica to see what was going on. Different day. Different scenario.

  Entering the courtyard, it was easier to see the shoeless feet were propped up on a bench. Odd position to leave a body, but what did she know?

  Veronica got round the path ahead of Olive. ‘Randy! What are you doing?’

  As Olive arrived at the spot, almost careening into Veronica (her body having caught up with her thoughts), all thoughts of dead bodies and heart attacks left her. Randy was lying on the ground, his colour perfectly pink, reading a book with his legs resting up on the bench.

  ‘Good evening, ladies. I’m reading my book, of course. What did you think I was doing?’

  ‘This…’ Veronica did a dramatic flourish of her arm ‘…is not a position any normal person adopts to read. We thought you’d gone and had a stroke or something.’

  ‘I didn’t think anyone could see me from in there. I always read here. Far more comfortable than any of the chairs in the lobby.’

  ‘Your feet are poking out. We thought we were coming to discover a cadaver,’ Olive said.

  ‘Why aren’t you sitting on the bench? Surely that’s what they’re for.’ Veronica was still gesticulating with her arms.

  ‘The grass is far comfier for my bony bum. You should try it. It’s the perfect way to top up my tan and greet the moon as it comes to play. Anyway, enough about me. What are you two doing in this part of the building?’ Randy abandoned his book and propped himself up on one elbow.

  ‘Nothing,’ Veronica was quick to say.

  The statement giving them away in an instant, Randy’s interest was instantly piqued. ‘So why are you missing this evening’s delightful cabaret?’ Moving his legs off the bench and popping his shoes on, Randy started to get up with surprising agility.

  ‘I was, er, just, um, showing Olive around some of the less-well-known parts of Oakley.’

  Olive hated to think how useless Veronica would be under any pressured questioning. She’d give up all their secrets in moments.

  ‘But I’ve already given her the unofficial tour. We covered this part. Didn’t Olive say?’ There was that twinkle in Randy’s eyes telling Olive he was winding Veronica up.

  ‘Um. Yes. No. Maybe.’

  ‘We’re looking for a way of getting out undetected.’ Olive hadn’t planned on confiding their mission to anyone else, but Veronica’s guilty look meant Randy would have guessed eventually, and as he was the unofficial tour guide of Oakley West, if anyone knew how to get out, it would be him.

  ‘Olive!’ Veronica chastised. ‘We’re not supposed to tell anyone.’

  ‘We’re not going to tell any of the staff. And I’d rather we didn’t tell all the residents, but Randy’s okay. He might be able to help us.’ Olive hoped to appeal to the old rogue’s better nature, so offered her sweetest smile. ‘Is there any chance you know of a way out? We’ll get caught if we go out of the exits we know about.’

  A wicked grin broke out on Randy’s face. ‘Hmmm… what’s it worth and what are you up to?’

  ‘Our eternal gratitude and that would be telling.’

  Randy laughed. ‘You’re off to that beach hut of yours, aren’t you? Can’t say I blame you. I’d be heading there as often as I could if I had one.’

  ‘We’re hoping to go there every Friday.’ Veronica let that information slip like an excitable child unable to contain the secret.

  ‘Veronica…’ It was Olive’s turn to do the telling off.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Every Friday you say?’ Randy eyed them both up for a moment, trying to suss them out in some way.

  ‘That’s what we’re hoping. We’ve not had much luck so far. We might have to give the idea up.’

  ‘Nonsense. You can’t let living here get you like that. I certainly haven’t.’

  ‘That’s why you read books in the most peculiar positions? That makes you the biggest rebel I know.’ Olive guessed Randy would be happy to be teased.

  ‘Just call me Wild Randy from now on.’

  There was a creaking sound from the door they’d just come through and they all peered at it in alarm. Fortunately the breeze was the only thing making it move.

  ‘Right, ladies. If you want to know the way out of here, it’s time for us all to hide for a while.’

  ‘Hide?’ Veronica said. ‘Where?’

  ‘And why?’ Olive added.

  ‘In the courtyard. Now hurry up before anyone sees us.’

  Randy lay down on the grass again, this time leaving his heels on the ground, the bush hiding him from anyone passing the fire exit.

  ‘This isn’t strange at all.’ Veronica chose the bench that was often used by staff sneaking a cigarette, the bushes concealing the space.

  ‘And next week, ladies, I suggest you bring a book. There’s no guarantee as to how long we’ll end up waiting.’

  Rather perplexed by the whole business, Olive decided to go with the flow and found her own hidey-hole behind the other bench in the garden. They’d look like a right bunch of nincompoops if anyone were to come across them at this moment.

  ‘What exactly are we waiting for?’ Olive asked, wondering what it was Randy was up to. Having a laugh at their expense, no doubt.

  ‘That would be telling. Where’s the surprise if I just let you know?’

  ‘Ppppffffttttt.’ Veronica let out a huge sigh that made itself known with its volume. ‘Come on, Olive. Randy’s known for his practical jokes. Let’s not hang around and become one of them.’

  Olive was glad Veronica was on the same wavelength.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ Randy said, as they both started to make moves to leave. ‘Look, I’m not having you on. You want to find a way out of here on a Friday evening, right? Well, if you’d be kind enough to indulge me for five more minutes, hopefully I’ll have the solution.’

  ‘And to indulge you, we have to hide in the bushes?’ Olive said.

  ‘Sounds odd when you put it like that, but yes.’

  ‘And it’s not a wind-up?’ Veronica asked, settling back to where she’d been hiding.

  ‘Nope.’

  Well, this certainly wasn’t how Olive had imagined the evening going. And unless Randy owned a helicopter and they were about to be winched out, she had no idea how hiding in the bushes was going to get her any closer to her beach hut.

  ‘How long do we have to wait here before you tell us what’s going on?’ Veronica said.

  ‘It shouldn’t be long. She’s not failed me yet.’

  ‘Who hasn’t failed you?’ Olive asked. Maybe the helicopter idea wasn’t so far from the truth.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  Olive was able to see the smirk on his face from her hidey-hole. If she had been any closer she would have given him what for, but then, if he really did know a way to get out of here, she needed to remain his friend. Otherwise, she’d only manage one unscheduled escape a week and The Gin Shack Club would have to end after its first meeting. She gritted her teeth and decided to hold on for five more minutes to see what it was Randy had them waiting for.

  Just when she was at the point her bum was beginning to get numb from the bench and she wanted to leave before Randy made them look any more foolish, there was a loud click, followed by a scraping noise. It
sounded as if someone was opening a prison door, as though they were inmates waiting to be let back in.

  ‘Excellent. Perfectly timed. I was worried you ladies were about to start a mob attack on me.’

  ‘What was that noise?’ Veronica said, her ears seeming to twitch on high alert.

  Randy popped his head up and checked the fire door they’d come through. As that was clear, he sprang to his feet. ‘Follow me, ladies.’

  Olive was intrigued to see what the strange noise had been caused by. She was hopeful, oh so very hopeful, that its sounding like a prison door wouldn’t be too far from the truth. There appeared to be no exit from this square garden other than the one they’d entered by, but maybe she’d been wrong to think that.

  They followed Randy as he walked round the square path and to the back of the garden.

  As they turned the corner, Olive saw it. The crack in the wall. The one that hadn’t been there before. Along the window and what had appeared to be a solid wall, the gap gave away the fact it was a doorway. It was another fire exit, although this one was not obvious at all and it would only be possible to open it from the inside.

  Randy took the door and held it open. ‘After you, ladies.’

  Olive followed Veronica and they both had the expression of women about to step into the world of Narnia, such was the amazement of this secret passageway.

  The door took them straight into a bedroom. Olive guessed it must be one of the rooms for the night staff Randy had told her about. It was furnished quite simply and there were no signs of anyone staying there currently. In fact there were no signs of anyone at all.

  ‘Who opened the door for you?’ Olive asked.

  Randy was busy closing the door they’d come through, making sure it was securely shut. Looking at Olive, he tapped his nose in that conspiratorial way of his. ‘Ah, now that would be telling. I can’t say for fear of putting her job at risk. But it’s safe to say it’s worth working out who your allies are among the staff. Now, let’s not hang around here. I’m way too past it to handle a threesome.’ He chuckled at his own joke before leading them out of the room into a corridor.