Page 12 of Christmas at the Little Cornish Bakery

Tristan retreated into a contemplative silence.

‘Your grandmother will always be special to you, Lola, the version of her you knew is the one that is correct. You grew up with her so the Ruby you knew and loved, who taught you all you know, is more real and true than the young woman in the diary. I think maybe the Ruby in the diary was young, not fully formed and the version you remember is the truer, complete version. You don’t have to do anything with that photo, Lola, you don’t need to ask Alf anything.

You can leave it forever, or just leave it until the time is right.

Not everything is a mystery to be solved, you know.

I’m here for you, Lola, as a friend and vicar, if you need any counsel on this subject. ’

Lola let his words sink in, surprised at how deeply they touched her. Blinking back tears at his kind words, she nodded before reaching across to squeeze his rather sticky hand. ‘Thank you, Tristan.’

His eyes met hers and Lola had the strangest sensation that time slowed right down.

It might even have gone as far as stopping.

She floundered for something to say but words failed her, instead she pulled her hand away and went back to sorting out the fruit.

How could one evening contain so many moments she was unwilling to grasp?

Pre-Jared Lola would have been all over Tristan in a flash.

Was that the problem? Tristan was not the sort of man you threw yourself at in a fit of passion, but more the sort you allowed yourself to grow closer to, slowly uncovering him layer by layer. That terrified Lola.

‘So, is this a family recipe we’re all being treated to? Are you going to have to kill me if I find out the secret ingredient?’ Tristan asked to lighten the mood.

Lola laughed. ‘No, not at all! There’s no secret ingredient unless you count love?

Cakes need to be baked with love.’ She snipped open the top of a bag of sultanas and tipped them into the largest mixing bowl Tristan had ever seen.

‘Of course this is a family recipe, it’s Ruby’s in fact.

Soaking the fruit in brandy keeps the cake from drying out and should placate all those folk from seafaring stock who are concerned I might try and pass a teetotal cake off on them. ’

‘I’m looking forward to trying it. That brandy smells delightful. What was a family Christmas like for you growing up?’

A shadow passed across Lola’s face. ‘Honestly? Not great. My parents weren’t into Christmas at all.

We’d just have a bit of dinner, then Dad would start on the brandy, watch the Queen’s speech.

It was celebrated more because it was on the calendar rather than because my parents had any inclination.

Ruby was always popping in on Christmas morning and after Grandad died, Ruby would spend Christmas with us.

Mum and Ruby never quite saw eye to eye so it was always a bit tense.

Dad kept out of the way. But I love Christmas,’ Lola told him, her face lighting up.

‘The fairy lights, the baubles, the way everyone is enthusiastic and tries to find the joy. I left home at eighteen and no matter where I’ve been I’ve tried to make Christmas special. ’

Tristan smiled at her. ‘Does this mean we get to keep you here for Christmas? Or are you heading off to see family?’

Lola shook her head. ‘No, my parents spend the winter in Spain now, Mum can’t stand the cold.

And my brother has lived in Australia for the past twenty years, so, yeah, we’re all rather fragmented.

I tried to go to Spain in my twenties but it wasn’t the same, the cold always makes me feel festive, you know?

Wrapping a coat around a too thin party frock, waiting for a taxi while your feet freeze.

’ Lola sighed with the memories. ‘So, you get to have an extra sparkly Lola Christmas.’ She flashed him a winning smile.

‘What about you? What were your Christmases like?’

‘Less freezing in a party frock and a bit more on the religious side. My family have always been involved with the Church, so it featured heavily in our Christmases. None of them were surprised when they found out I’d decided to join the Church.

It might not have been a popular thing to admit as a teenager but I loved midnight mass.

The cold church, the candlelight, how solemn it was compared to the carol services.

We always had a big Christmas Day dinner with my grandparents and cousins. Lots of presents and games.’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ Lola replied wistfully, quelling a stab of envy at the cosy family Christmas he described. ‘Are you going back this year? Or does duty call?’

‘Duty calls, I’m afraid. Midnight mass, Christmas Day service, it’s a busy time to be a vicar.

’ He winked. ‘I’ll video-call my parents.

My sister has three kids so no doubt they’ll be busy and won’t miss me.

I’ll take some time off in the New Year and visit them.

’ Tristan glanced down at his sleeve, which was starting to unwind and heading perilously close to the sticky cherry juice.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve got it.’ Lola scooted around and carefully rolled the sleeve back up his arm. Tristan looked down at her, the energy shifting between them again. Lola gave his arm a pat and stepped back. ‘All sorted now.’

‘Ah, yes, thank you. No doubt I’ll be inundated with invites for Christmas dinner, well, at least I hope I will!’ He grinned at her.

Lola’s face lit up as an idea sparked inside her head.

‘Why don’t you come here? I’ll hold a big Christmas dinner for all of us!

You, me, Alf, we’re all on our own, I’ll get some extra sausages for Scruff.

I can ask Angelo and Freya to join us. I’m not sure Freya is all that keen on taking Angelo home to Bedford yet.

There’ll be wine, we can sing songs, it’ll be wonderful! ’

Tristan shook his head. ‘We can’t ask that of you, Lola, you need at least one day off.’

‘Nope, I’d go stir-crazy. Cooking and feeding people is what I love. I’ll get a turkey, a ham and I make pretty amazing roast potatoes. It’ll be perfect. No protests, Vicar, I won’t hear them.’ Lola wagged a finger at him. ‘I’ve only just thought about it but I’m already looking forward to it.’

Seeing him shake his head, she calmed her voice down to convince him. ‘Honestly, Tristan, I’d enjoy hosting dinner for us all, you’re not allowed to say no.’

A slow smile spread affectionately across Tristan’s face. ‘I’m pretty sure, Lola, that no one could possibly say no to you.’