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‘Right, let’s show you the rest of the place.’ Matron pushed on at a pace that proved she was a busy woman.
There were rooms upon rooms to be reintroduced to: the day room, the dining hall, the library, the downstairs toilets, the cloakroom, the old bar that was now used as a games room. Every space was large and easy to get lost in, with people milling about in every area. Finally, there was the out-of-bounds area for staff only – practically a quarter of the downstairs area, where the staffroom and accommodation were and residents weren’t supposed to go. Matron did an excellent job of making that very clear while batting her eyelids for Richard’s benefit.
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?’
‘Matron won’t have shown you where to go if you want a sneaky cigarette for starters.’
Maybe it wasn’t a tour straight to his boudoir after all. ‘If you reckon the unofficial version is worth going on, I’ll take your word for it in that case. Let the tour commence.’
‘Great. Follow me.’
They headed out of the vast space that was the day room. It doubled up as the dining-room space and was the focal point for most of the activities. The residents’ rooms were over the first and second floors, with most of the rooms on the ground floor set aside for different reasons and activities, including the out-of-bounds living area for the staff.
‘It used to be Oakley West Hotel in the 1950s, but tourism dropped round this area and it ended up vacant and in need of refurbishing. They turned it into retirement quarters about five years ago. It sits somewhere between being a care home and warden-controlled flats.’
Olive wasn’t from here originally so, unlike Randy, she had no memory of it. She’d grown up in Dover and met her husband, John, when he’d worked at the docks. It was John who was from around these parts. There was every chance Randy might have known him, but she didn’t like to talk about the past. That always raised questions she had no intention of answering.
They moved into the lobby with its vast clusters of chairs and coffee tables with the daily newspapers scattered about.
‘Do you like reading?’ Randy asked, shaking Olive from taking in the surroundings properly this time round.
‘It’s up there in my top three hobbies.’ Olive wasn’t going to tell Randy about the other two. They were a secret.
‘They run a book club and Melanie hosts it here in the lobby once a month. She always goes for the serious stuff, though, so, if that’s not for you, just give Flo a nod. She’s got a little Mills & Boon book club running on the sly. It’s far more popular than Melanie’s. Just don’t let on, okay.’ Randy tapped a finger against his nose in a mum’s the word kind of fashion.
Olive winked. She was beginning to like it here.
‘This way.’ Randy led the way along a corridor Matron had missed. ‘They can be a bit regimented here with mealtimes, but for the days you don’t feel up to a full meal, this is where you need to come.’
Randy threw a quick glance over his shoulder to check if they would be seen and Olive wondered if he was going to get her in trouble. As she followed him, she noticed nearly every door along here had a sign stating STAFF ONLY. They were in the forbidden section of the building.
‘Should we be down here?’
‘Of course not, but the only one who would tell us off is Matron. So as long as she doesn’t see you, you’ll be fine.’ Randy turned a final corner at the end of the corridor. ‘Right, this is the place. It’s where the staff take their breaks. They don’t mind us popping in here and Matron takes her breaks in her office so you won’t ever get caught by her sitting here. They have a larger staff room for their lunches so this is normally where they take shorter breaks, so it’s never as busy. But the thing we’re here for is this.’ He waved his hand and beckoned Olive closer.
Checking behind her one last time, Olive moved into the snug area. It was an open alcove with a small kitchen area and seating for no more than two people on a sofa. Randy had better not be using the smallness of this not-even-a-room to try and pull off a move.
‘This is where the secret store is that we’re interested in.’ Randy opened up the two small overhead cupboards. Inside was a stash of everything you needed for a round of tea and toast: bread, spreads, tea, coffee and every other beverage she could think of. ‘There’s a mini fridge on the side with milk and butter.’ He opened it to prove he wasn’t making that fact up.
‘But this is for the staff.’
‘It is, but not many of them want toast on their break. They have the same supplies in their main staff room. So, if the bread and milk don’t get used up they go to waste. And if Matron thought it wasn’t being used she’d soon stop them having it here. So by helping ourselves every now and then we’re helping the rest of the staff out. If you ever don’t have the appetite for an entire roast, or you get the midnight munchies, just head here and help yourself.’
‘Does everyone know about this then?’ Olive was sure they’d said there were in excess of fifty residents. If they were all raiding this cupboard she was pretty sure the loaf and a half in there wouldn’t last very long.
‘Of course not. It isn’t every resident that gets this unofficial tour, you know.’
‘How come I’m getting the privilege?’
‘If you know Veronica you must be all right. Where did you say you know her from?’
‘I didn’t. And I might have the wrong person, so I might be getting this tour on false pretenses. You can stop before you give away any more secrets if you’re worried.’
‘No. I can recognise a kindred spirit when I see one. Are you going to try and tell me you don’t have a rebellious streak?’ Randy raised one of his bushy brows.
Olive cleared her throat, worried he could already read her thoughts about trying to escape to her beach hut. And while he’d shown her his secret cubby-hole, she wasn’t about to shout about her secret hideaway. ‘Whatever made you think that?’ Even the way she phrased her answer gave away her non-innocence.
‘Thought so.’ It was Randy’s turn to offer a wink. ‘Now, next on the agenda… the garden. We’ll sneak out this way.’
Opposite the snug was another short corridor that led to a fire exit conveniently propped open by a piece of cardboard.
‘This is where the staff sneak out if they want a fag break. To be honest, that’s what they tend to do with their precious fifteen-minute break, which is why they don’t worry about the few residents who help themselves to toast. Matron doesn’t like it really, but she’s also too lazy to come all this way to keep an eye on what’s going on.’
Glancing around, Olive realised she wasn’t in the part of the garden she’d been shown earlier in the day. This was more of a courtyard enclosed all round by the building. ‘This was definitely left off the official tour.’
‘Told you mine featured all the exclusives.’
‘So what is this place?’
‘The rooms that back on to here are where the night staff sleep. It means they aren’t in use during the day, other than the cleaners changing the bedding, so this is where the staff come if they want a few minutes’ fresh air. Although some of the staff have a different interpretation of fresh air than others. It’s not very big, and there isn’t a view, but there are a couple of benches if you ever find yourself in need of hiding away for five minutes. Let me show you round.’
They paced around the small courtyard. It had planted beds in a square, with a couple of bushes overgrown enough to cause the benches to be little hidey-holes. It looked a tad unkempt and in need of attention, but Olive had a feeling the staff left it this way so those hiding spots remained small places of sanctuary. What they really needed was a couple of arbours in which to find harbour. For the first time she sensed a pang of sadness about no longer having her house. The building itself and all the work that came with it wasn’t something she was going to miss, but the garden had been her sanctuary when she’d been at home. Outside space was always where she headed when she needed to feel at one with the world. That was why keeping hold of the beach hut was so important. It meant she wasn’t letting go of her sense of self. Which reminded her what she was hoping to find out. ‘Do you know what room Veronica is in? I want to try and catch up with her and see if she is the lady I’m thinking of.’
Olive hoped she’d said it casually enough, not giving anything away as to why she was so curious about one of the residents.
‘She’s on the second floor. Two-seventeen. Not far from you.’
‘Thanks. I’ll try and catch up with her at some point soon. Not tonight, though. It’s getting late.’ The sun was beginning to fade and the small courtyard was already getting dark with the sun setting low.
‘And I’m up on the first floor. My room’s one-twenty if you need me for any reason.’ There was a twinkle about Randy as he said it and Olive was sure he reserved that look for all the women he came across in his life. ‘But you’re right, it is getting late, so we best stop the unofficial tour for today.’
‘There’s more to it then?’
Randy tapped his nose again. ‘There certainly is. But I don’t want to overwhelm you. You best get yourself settled into your room. I hope your first few nights have been okay. It’s always strange staying somewhere different.’
Olive didn’t want to go into the technical details of how she didn’t tend to sleep well no matter where she was. ‘Thank you,’ she said, as Randy walked her to the lobby lifts. ‘You’ve been very kind to make me feel welcome.’
In the lift, Randy pressed the buttons to send them to the first and second floors. ‘It’s a pleasure. I haven’t forgotten what it felt like to move here when, really, I wasn’t sure I was ready. I recognise that in you and I wanted you to know it isn’t all bad. In fact, there are days I wish I’d done it sooner.’
‘I’m glad to hear that,’ Olive said as the lift doors opened, announcing their arrival at her floor.
‘Do you want me to walk you to your room?’
Randy was asking out of politeness, not for any other reason, she realised.
‘I’ll be okay from here, thank you.’
‘Great. I’ll see you at breakfast. It’s half an hour later tomorrow. It starts at eight-thirty on a Tuesday, but I’m sure Matron filled you in on all of that with her welcome pack and chat.’
‘She certainly did.’ Olive smiled, all of a sudden feeling much younger than her eighty-four years. ‘See you at breakfast.’ She offered a wave as the lift doors closed and for a moment she was lost in a sea of thought.
Remembering she had a task to carry out, Olive checked the signs on the wall outside the lift indicating which way to head for which room numbers. It had clearly been a hotel in a previous life, the clues more obvious the longer she was here.
Seeing Veronica’s room was indeed in the same direction as hers, Olive continued along the corridor’s plush swirly red carpet, taking note of the room numbers as she went. She could knock now to ask if Veronica was the woman she thought she was. It seemed unlikely that someone would be sneaking out of here for an early-morning swim every Tuesday morning, but seeing as how Olive’s first thought on moving here had been how she would get out, it didn’t seem too odd to think someone might already be doing that. She just needed to find out how. As she didn’t know the woman in any depth, knocking on her door and asking her directly risked her clamming up and not giving her any answers. It might stop her going for her early-morning Tuesday dips altogether.
No, it was far better to use the information she did have to try and find out if she had the right woman. She knew what time she arrived at the beach. It was less than a five-minute walk from Oakley West, so if she was able to somehow keep watch to see if and when Veronica left, she would be able to find out how she was making her escape unnoticed.
Studying the corridor with more purpose, Olive realised her room was too far away to be able to spy, but just opposite there was a door ajar. Popping her head round the gap revealed one of the laundry stores cum cleaning cupboards.
Checking no one was about, Olive opened the door to see if she would be able to hide in here unnoticed. Pulling the door to again, the crack it left gave her a perfect viewing point from which to see across to Veronica’s room. She just had to hope she didn’t get caught, but if she did she would have to play the new girl getting lost card.
Despite the numerous blankets, duvets and sheets stored on shelves in the cupboard, there was no way she would be able to set up for the night, so, feeling a vague notion of tiredness, Olive discreetly left the linen cupboard behind and headed for her room.
When she settled into bed, she knew she needed to be up early if she didn’t want to miss finding out how to escape. Most people would have set an alarm, but Olive was one hundred per cent certain she didn’t need to. She would be awake in a few hours, spending the early hours familiarising herself with the pattern on the ceiling. Only tomorrow she wouldn’t have to. Tomorrow she would get herself prepared for the first covert operation she’d had to carry out. Well, she did like to live by the saying “you’re never too old to try something new.” And standing in a linen cupboard spying on someone was definitely in the things-I’ve-never-tried-before category.
Chapter Five
Olive really wasn’t sure why she’d felt the need to pack a rucksack like some kind of SAS specialist, but she’d done it all the same just to be on the safe side. If she was stuck in the cupboard for hours on end, at least she’d have supplies. It did mean she was wedged in more awkwardly than when she’d trialled it the previous night. Fortunately, her bottom was the right height to perch against one of the lower shelves, so it wasn’t altogether uncomfortable. If she wasn’t too worried about any circulation getting to her legs, that was.
She’d sneaked in the cupboard unduly early. She’d left her room at half past four and, for all the packing of utilities, hadn’t thought to bring a torch, so had no idea how far time had moved on.
Even putting her watch up to the crack in the doorway wasn’t casting enough light to work out how much longer she would be crammed in here.
It was surprisingly quiet at this time of morning. There was less movement than she would have expected in a building full of people. There were obviously benefits to being in a solid building keen on hexagon pillars and high ceilings. It didn’t carry sound and the plush carpets absorbed the sounds of any footsteps, so Olive was having to concentrate extra hard on not missing Veronica leaving her room, if indeed she ever would.
It was the sound of an opening door that alerted Olive to the fact that, at long last, someone was on the move. It was a relief. If she’d had to stay too much longer she would have been found by the cleaners or had to leave for a toilet break and end her vigil.
Through the crack in the doorway, Olive could see it was Veronica on the move. The white-haired lady had bulkier clothing than one might expect for a summer’s day. Olive almost cheered at recognising the bag in her hand and knowing the clothing was bulked out because of the wetsuit it was concealing.
In her excitement at being right, Olive pressed on the door, causing it to waver. She held her breath and ducked back as she caught Veronica peering in the linen cupboard’s direction. Rather than inspecting it as Olive feared she might, it instead spurred Veronica into action and she scooted down the hallway at breakneck speed.
Olive caught her using a skating-style technique to move along the carpet, not picking up her heels. It must reduce the sound, Olive realised. Olive also realised she wasn’t very well equipped to be a spy. Waiting in a cupboard had been her genius move, but now she needed to work out what she did from this point without getting caught.
As soon as she’d lost sight of Veronica, Olive squeezed her way out of the cupboard and quickly discovered her legs were more lacking in circulation than she’d anticipated. She steadied herself against the wall and tried to march some life into them. When she was able to, she took Veronica’s approach to travelling and skated her way along the carpet. It was a rather fun way to move about really and it reminded her of being a kid.