01/07/2026
**Squirrels is now sold.**
We've had our leaving party, and now it's time to be completely honest.
When Chris and I took over Squirrels, we didn't do it because we thought it would make us rich or because we thought it would be easy. We took it on because we genuinely believed we could build something special, somewhere people could enjoy good food, good company and a welcoming atmosphere.
We threw absolutely everything we had into that little bar.
Unfortunately, despite all of that, the bad eventually outweighed the good.
From the very beginning it felt like we were fighting an uphill battle just to fit in, and the truth is, we never really did.
I've had customers ask to speak to my husband because they believed he should be "the boss" instead of me simply because I'm a woman. I've been called rude and accused of having a bad attitude because I refused to stand by while my staff were being spoken to like they were worthless.
I'll never apologise for that.
If standing up for the people who worked so hard for us makes me the bad person, then so be it. My staff didn't deserve to be shouted at, reduced to tears or treated like something scraped off the bottom of someone's shoe. Far too often, people had an issue with me but chose to take it out on the people working alongside me.
Were we perfect? Of course not. We're human, and like every business we've made mistakes. But whenever we got something wrong, we owned it. We've had customers come and speak to us privately about problems, and almost every time those issues were resolved because we simply had a conversation. Sadly, many others chose Facebook posts, rumours and abuse instead.
Chris and I gave Squirrels everything we had. We invested our savings, our time and our energy. We sacrificed precious moments with our children and grandchildren that we'll never get back. There were days we'd start work at 8:30 in the morning, finally lock up at 3am and then be back again at 8:30 the following morning to do it all over again.
People saw the food arrive at their table, but they never saw Chris dragging himself out of bed at 4am every Sunday after finishing late the night before, determined to make sure every roast was cooked fresh that day. He never prepared them the day before because he cared too much about quality.
People didn't see me returning to work the day after surgery against doctors' orders because I felt I had no choice. They didn't see the sleepless nights worrying about bills, wondering how we were going to keep everything going.
We've even had people say we were "never in it for the long haul." That couldn't have been further from the truth. We nearly lost our house, our cars and pretty much everything we owned trying to keep that business alive because we believed it deserved every chance to succeed.
What became hardest wasn't the work—it was the constant rumours.
People seemed happier believing gossip than asking us directly. We even heard stories that other bar owners, people we thought were friends, were talking negatively about us. Whether those stories were true or not, we refused to play that game. We never retaliated, never spread rumours about anyone else and never wanted to be part of that kind of behaviour.
I left the school playground years ago, but at times it felt like parts of Benimar never did.
We had people commenting that we were closed while we were literally standing behind the bar serving customers. We had complaints because I couldn't answer the phone while I was serving. One customer even complained because I didn't answer while I was in the toilet, despite me returning the call as soon as I came out.
Rumours spread far quicker than the truth.
I've also heard plenty of people say I didn't earn the money I used to buy Squirrels.
The reality is very different.
I've worked since I was 14 years old. I started as a silver service waitress before gaining a degree in Computer Studies and a diploma in Health and Social Care. Yes, I received compensation after being wrongly convicted and imprisoned because of the Post Office scandal, but every penny of that money went straight back into my family and into Squirrels. It wasn't spent on luxury—it was invested into trying to build something we were proud of.
Some people should genuinely reflect on the way they treated hardworking people.
What so many forgot was that this wasn't just affecting me. It affected every member of our team. People with rent to pay, children to feed and families waiting for them at home. I've even been told, "It's a business, not a childminder." Owning a business doesn't stop us being parents, grandparents or human beings. Neither does it stop my staff having lives and families outside of work.
Eventually we reached our limit.
I watched my staff lose their confidence. I watched them dread coming to work because they didn't know who would be rude to them that day. Slowly but surely, I watched the spark disappear from every single one of us.
Nobody opens a business expecting it to break them, but in the end that's exactly what happened.
Despite everything, this isn't how I want to remember our time at Squirrels.
Because alongside the negativity were some truly wonderful people.
To every customer who supported us, defended us when rumours were flying, checked in to see how we were, celebrated birthdays with us, brought your families through our doors and kept coming back week after week—you have no idea what your support meant.
Some of you became far more than customers. You became friends, and those friendships are something we'll always treasure.
You reminded us why we started this journey and kept us going on days when we wanted to walk away.
Sadly, in the end, the negativity became louder than the kindness, and emotionally, mentally and financially we couldn't carry on any longer.
As for what's next, we honestly don't know. Right now we need time to rest, time with our family and time to rediscover ourselves after giving every part of ourselves to Squirrels.
To everyone who stood by us, believed in us and supported us, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Those are the memories we'll choose to keep with us.
And finally, to those of you who have me on my personal Facebook, please don't be strangers. I'm only ever a message away, and I'd love for us to keep in touch. Thank you for everything, and for all the friendships we've made along the way.
Love you all. ❤️
