The Gin Shack on the Beach. Catherine Miller

before the others started to join them and it had become a bit of a tradition for them to take turns in making each other bacon sarnies whenever there was more than one of them about at a time. Olive most enjoyed cooking for the kids: Skylar’s son, Lucas, and the three Salter lads, all in their late teens and turning into fine young men. It was a joy watching them grow up with their wakeboards and kites. She wouldn’t miss the four walls of her house, but she would miss this; the community she’d found herself part of.

      Tunic, trousers and bulky bangles secured firmly back in place, Olive set to work creating a feast for all the guests she was expecting. She’d even be gracious enough to make Richard some when he returned. Although the trauma of catching her in the nuddy might be enough to turn him away for ever.

      Once everyone had gathered, the air was filled with the pleasant buzz of chatter and laughter Olive was used to. Each of the six beach huts had their doors flung open and deckchairs gathered round as Olive made sure the central table was supplied with rounds of bacon sandwiches and freshly buttered toast. The only person missing was Skylar’s son, Lucas. He was at Westbrook Junior’s breakfast club and Olive was pretty sure he’d much rather be here.

      The two middle beach huts were occupied by one family – the Salters. Tony and Esme occupied the hut next to Skylar with their three sons and all their equipment took up the space in the other. Next to the boys was Paul the fisherman. He was the quietest of the bunch and had taken longer to come out of his shell, but it turned out bacon was the way to the heart of even the hardiest soul. In the last of this row of six huts were Mark and Lily, an adorable young married couple with a gorgeous chocolate Labrador, Button, that Olive was entirely in love with. In fact, Button lived a lavish life with all of the beach-hut tenants doting on him.

      It meant everything to her that all her friends were here. All of them had their own lives to get on with. They didn’t need to be here to support her, but as soon as the suggestion had come up they’d all volunteered to be here. That was a true representation of what family should be.

      Having created enough bacon sarnies to feed a small army, Olive joined the rest of them and relaxed into her deckchair.

      ‘Where has this son of yours got to then?’ Tony asked, helping himself to another sandwich as he did.

      The only figures on the long stretch of beach were Tony’s three sons playing a rudimentary form of cricket, Esme having already shouted at them not to ruin their clothes before college.

      ‘There’s a chance I might have scarred him for life and he may not return.’

      Skylar laughed, the only person present who knew what Olive was referring to.

      ‘Oh, and how’s that?’ Esme asked, copying her husband in collecting another sandwich.

      ‘Richard caught Olive skinny-dipping this morning. I had to come to her rescue because she was refusing to get out.’

      ‘Olive…’ Esme’s eyes bulged for a second.

      ‘Nobody was ever supposed to catch me at it. Least of all my son.’

      Button, clearly running out of scrap supplies, decided to bound onto the beach to join the boys.

      ‘Always knew you were a minx,’ Lily said, as she got up to follow the dog, Mark in turn following them both. Mark was as much of a puppy as the dog.

      ‘Am not,’ Olive shouted. ‘Don’t go telling everyone about this. I don’t want it to become a spectator sport.’

      ‘We won’t tell anyone, don’t you worry.’ Tony looked round for the group to support his statement.

      Skylar did a Girl Guide salute. Esme nodded. Paul blushed.

      ‘Good.’ Olive was relieved to think no one else would know about her hobby. Especially as it might be a while before she braved a dip again.

      ‘It is good.’ The sound of Richard’s voice saw everyone turn their heads in his direction. ‘Because we don’t need you carrying on like that any more.’

      Olive wondered where the royal “we” came in. They were her friends, not his. It was him who didn’t want her carrying on. ‘Good morning, Richard. Perhaps we can start off on a better foot now I have my clothes on.’

      Skylar stifled a snigger, and catching a glimpse of her out the corner of her eye made Olive smile too broadly, considering she was trying to be serious.

      ‘Good morning, Mother. Is everything packed up? Do we need to do anything or are you ready?’

      ‘Yes, everything from the house is packed up. You’ll need to go through some stuff to see if you want it, but I’m sure house removals can deal with the rest of that.’ Richard’s visit was for the purpose of moving her into the Oakley West Retirement Quarters. It was a very odd concept to be moving an entire lifetime of memories from a four-bedroom house to a single room. But it turned out Olive wasn’t very attached to the past. It hadn’t been very nice to her all told, so she was more than happy to say goodbye to half the rubbish that had gathered over the years. The only piece of furniture she was attached to was the ottoman and that was safe here at her beach hut. At least she hoped so.

      ‘What about the beach hut? Is that all packed up?’ Richard asked.

      The silence that followed was electric. It drew all the beach-hut residents to the conversation like atoms drawn to a charge.

      ‘I’m not packing up the beach hut because I’m not leaving.’ Olive’s voice sounded stronger than she felt.

      Richard sighed in a way that might have caused smoke to puff from his nostrils if he’d been another species. ‘We talked about this.’

      ‘No. We never talked. You told me how it was going to be and expected me to agree to everything.’

      ‘Yes, because it’s in your best interest.’

      ‘Sandwich?’ Tony grabbed a platter from the table and offered them to Richard. ‘This lot have brown sauce. The better choice if you ask me, but there’s Tommy K as well if you prefer.’ Tony waved the plate a little as if he was trying to tempt Button, not that the dog needed much tempting. ‘They’re your mother’s speciality. Take a seat and have a sandwich and maybe I can introduce everyone.’

      Olive was very appreciative of Tony’s actions. He was doing his best to disperse the charge gathering around them.

      ‘My apologies. I didn’t mean to come across so brashly, but as you’ve been discussing, I’ve had a bit of a shock this morning and I’m more than a little concerned for my mother’s welfare.’

      ‘Have a sandwich? Guaranteed to make you feel better.’ Tony waved the plate in Richard’s direction again.

      At long last Richard took a sandwich and found a seat next to Skylar.

      ‘While you eat that, let me introduce everyone.’ Tony went round the entire group naming each individual and filling Richard in on which beach hut belonged to whom. ‘And the thing is, Olive is part of our gang. We’re a community, it wouldn’t be the same without her.’

      Richard nodded and the cogs of his thinking process were almost visible. ‘I appreciate that you’re all friends with my mum, and I don’t want you to think I’m an overly interfering relative, but my concerns aren’t for when other people are here. It’s the fact she comes here before the crack of dawn with only crabs and winkles for company. However much I don’t want to say it, it needs pointing out that she’s not the spring chicken she thinks she is. This morning proves she’s taking too many risks. I’d be an irresponsible son if I didn’t do everything I could to ensure her safety.’

      Having given his reasoned argument in typical lawyer style, Richard helped himself to another sandwich. For a moment, Olive saw the words sinking in with her friends and the thought he might be right was a scary one. She didn’t want to think she might be losing part of her identity by growing old. She didn’t think age should define a person and she wasn’t about to let it if she had