Page 13 of Christmas at the Little Cornish Bakery

Dear Diary,

The village is built on a hill, the house is at the top and we have a very steep walk back up from the beach.

There was a long debate about what to do on our first day here.

Ida and Joan are keen to go and see the artists in St Ives but after the train journey down I’ve had enough of travelling.

When I got into bed last night I felt like I was still moving!

Anyway, we decided to spend the day exploring the village, not that there’s much to see but it’s very pretty.

There’s a pub, a small shop and post office but that’s about it.

All the buildings are painted white, some have hanging baskets of flowers and the beach is covered in fishing boats.

We went for a swim, well, a paddle for me, I’m not brave enough to fully submerge myself.

The water was almost warm. We were eating our sandwiches when the fishermen came in with their catch, followed by flocks of pesky seagulls.

I’d never seen anything quite like it. I can’t imagine what it would be like going out on the sea in all weathers, I’m worried about it when it’s calm.

Still, it does sound a lot more exciting than typing up dull letters about insurance all day.

We watched them with their nets and catch, transfixed by the way they moved, strong arms, tanned skin, completely different from the men we know back home.

I must have been staring for too long because Joan pulled me away, a disapproving look on her face.

‘Are you sure I can’t convince you to come here for Christmas?’ Bridget asked, ‘it’ll be warm and sunny.’

Lola sighed. Every year her mum tried to convince her to jet out to the Costa del Sol for Christmas, every year Lola declined. ‘Thanks, Mum, but I can’t leave the café. You know I can’t do a warm Christmas anyway.’

‘I don’t like to think of you all alone,’ she sighed.

Lola being alone for the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year didn’t seem to bother her mum as much.

‘I’ll be fine, I’ll have my friends here in Polcarrow to spend it with.

I’m already making plans for us all to have Christmas lunch together.

’ Plus the thought of spending Boxing Day with her feet up and a box of Quality Street was absolute heaven.

‘If you’re sure.’ But the argument already seemed to be gone from her voice.

‘Perfectly sure,’ Lola said, scribbling ‘Organise a Polcarrow Christmas’ on her crowded to-do pad. She hesitated before asking, ‘Mum, did Nannie ever mention coming to Cornwall before she married Grandad?’

‘No. Why?’ Bridget asked.

Lola hesitated before sharing. ‘I had a package delivered to me. It was some letters and diaries the new owners found hidden in Nannie’s house.

Nannie came to Cornwall it seems after the war but before she married Grandad.

’ She didn’t elaborate on the fact that Ruby had visited Polcarrow or that there’d been a ring tucked away in the package.

‘Did you? So that’s what it was. No, she never talked much about her younger days to me.

I know she did like spending time in Cornwall, though, and we went there when I was a child.

I better go, your dad’s just come in from his golf club.

Remember, there’ll always be a place for you at the table, Lola.

’ Bridget rang off before Lola could say goodbye.

With a sigh, Lola slipped her phone into her bag and pulled her to-do list closer.

With her cakes baking and maturing, and the decorations going up around the café, Lola wasn’t the only one busy making Christmas plans.

As leader of the village committee, Sue was stuck into her vision to create a perfect Polcarrow Christmas, culminating with the Festive Festival.

The lobster pot tree, she had decided, was going to be the focal point.

Sue had been very persuasive in recruiting Tristan and Angelo to help with creating and assembling it, along with Steve who ran the pub.

There had been no notion of them even turning the opportunity down.

Even Alf had been roped in to oversee proceedings.

Sue’s plans gave Lola the perfect opportunity to raise her own.

Ever since she’d hatched her idea of a Polcarrow Christmas, Lola had been itching to share the invitation with the people who now meant the most to her.

Upon seeing that the local farm shop had turkeys for order when collecting her eggs, Lola decided that before she got too carried away and placed an order, she better check who was going to be around.

No point ordering a large turkey if it ended up just being three of them, even though she knew Scruff would rise to the challenge and help polish it off.

It was still early on the morning that they were scheduled to create the lobster pot tree and Lola was making sure that the ‘workers’ were fuelled with a decent breakfast. Once Tristan, Alf, Freya and Angelo were nestled at the window table, mugs of tea and stacks of toast in front of them, Lola interrupted their speculations about how they were meant to make a tree out of lobster pots.

The general feeling was that Sue didn’t have any practical suggestions, just the photo she’d found online which she’d waved about enthusiastically.

‘Now I have you all gathered, I have something to ask.’ Lola exchanged a glance with Tristan.

Lola had managed to avoid mentioning he’d been her kitchen helper when it came to the first batch of Christmas cakes.

She knew everyone had been speculating about their relationship since the summer and wasn’t ready for the inquisition – mostly because they were still very firmly in the friend zone.

‘What are you all doing on Christmas Day?’ she asked.

‘Same as every year,’ Alf replied, ‘trying not to share my sausages with this rascal.’ He gave Scruff a scratch under his chin before slipping him a crust of toast.

Freya and Angelo exchanged some form of silent communication that included a raised eyebrow which no one else was able to interpret.

‘We don’t have any plans . . . yet,’ Freya began slowly.

‘Mum has been going on about us going up to Bedford or them coming here. I’ve been putting her off.

As soon as they got wind of Angelo and Bayview they’ve been threatening to come down. Why?’

Lola clapped her hands together. ‘Well, Tristan and I were talking the other day about Christmas and I had a brainwave. Since Tristan, Alf and myself are all going to be alone, I’ve decided to host Christmas Day for us. Of course, do say if you have better plans, Alf.’

‘What a splendid idea. I always get invited to other people’s houses, but I think this invite tops them all. Make sure you get extra pigs in blankets, they’re Scruff’s favourite.’ The old sheepdog barked in agreement.

‘What will the vet say?’ Tristan, ever the voice of reason, asked.

Alf made a face. ‘He won’t say nothing if I don’t tell him, will he?’ Turning to Lola he said with concern, ‘As long as it’s not going to be too much work for you.’

‘Nonsense, of course it’s not. If anything I think I’ll enjoy it.’ She turned to Freya and Angelo. ‘Obviously I understand if you want to go home for Christmas. But also, if your family want to come to Cornwall, the more the merrier. I’d be happy to include them too.’

Freya considered this. ‘Are you sure? If you are I’ll text Mum and invite them down.’

‘But the house?’ Panic flashed across Angelo’s face.

Bayview House was pretty much a building site, with various jobs started but not finished.

Lola had to bite her tongue from spilling out that Ruby had stayed there.

She was starting to realise that the more she read of the diary, the more people she’d want to share the story with. She wasn’t quite ready for that.

Freya shrugged. ‘They can stay at the pub. Come on, it’ll be fun. I take it Tristan has already agreed to this plan?’ she asked mischievously. ‘Considering you cooked it up together.’

‘I have and I also tried to tell Lola it was too much work.’

‘It is not too much work!’ she insisted as she buttered another slice of toast. ‘I’ve decided it all.

I’m going to use the café kitchen and we can all dine in here.

Push the tables together, get some wine and crackers, it’ll be brilliant.

I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, it’s been years since I’ve spent Christmas with a group of people I love or had a Christmas Day with all the trimmings.

’ Another idea flashed through her brain.

‘Why don’t we make a Christmas pudding? We can all have a stir and make a wish.

Like I used to do when I was growing up.

My Nannie Ruby always insisted on making wishes and I have her magic stirring spoon. ’

Out of the corner of her eye Lola saw Alf freeze at the mention of the name Ruby, as if a memory had surfaced that he didn’t quite care for.

She sipped her tea and tried extremely hard not to watch him.

Tristan threw her a questioning glance. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell everyone Ruby had spent time in Polcarrow, just to see if he reacted further.

However, before she could say anything, Alf spoke and the moment was gone.

‘That sounds like a splendid idea, Lola,’ he said before turning to Freya and Angelo to ask, ‘I don’t suppose either of you fancy giving Scruff a walk do you?

I think he needs to work off all that toast he’s managed to thieve off us.

Tire him out a bit before the grand lobster pot tree making.

A tree made of lobster pots, whatever next,’ he chuckled to himself. ‘Where do people get these ideas from?’

Scruff rubbed his face against Freya’s leg, making her groan at the thought of being chosen to take him out.

Tucking her phone into her pocket, she stood up and, looking straight at Angelo, said, ‘You’re the one who wants to include – how many was it?

– three dogs into our future, so you can come and give me a hand. ’

Angelo took Scruff’s lead and with a quick whistle caught his attention. He then led the dog out of the door and across the road to the beach. Freya tightened her scarf, mumbled something incomprehensible and followed them out.

‘I miss being able to walk him like I used to,’ Alf sighed. ‘He needs more than just an amble down here and back, even if that’s enough for me. I’m very grateful that Angelo is keen to get a dog, but I’m not sure he understands how much hard work it is. Not that I’d change Scruff for anything.’

Wondering if this was another chance to lure Alf into a conversation about the past, Lola exchanged a glance with Tristan, who, reading her mind, asked, ‘Did you always have a dog?’

‘Oh yes, grew up with them. There’s always been one around. Great companions. I know it’s probably not the same as a human companion, but I’ve always had a deep understanding with my dogs. Very loyal and they have a better sense about things than most of us. You two ever had any pets?’

Tristan shook his head. ‘My sister had a hamster though.’

‘Only a couple of guinea pigs when I was a girl. My brother Antony and I were meant to share them but I think Mum ended up doing most of the work, which she resented. When they died we weren’t allowed any more.

Probably for the best.’ Lola gave him a smile to reassure him she wasn’t at all sad about her lack of pets.

‘I travelled too much afterwards but I always made friends with the local cats and dogs.’

‘I could see you with a cat,’ Alf said.

‘What? Because of all the mystic stuff?’ Lola laughed.

Alf shrugged. ‘Maybe.’ Taking a sip of his tea, his shoulders relaxed as he watched Scruff give Angelo the run around on the beach across the road.

Lola and Tristan exchanged glances. Could this be their moment to ask Alf more about the fishing tragedy?

All she knew was that he was happy to talk about the olden days in a general sense, he’d go off on a tangent about stealing boats for secret treasure hunts as a boy but was less keen on delving into his personal life.

‘So, you were never tempted to leave Polcarrow and find your fortune elsewhere?’ Tristan gently persisted.

If Alf was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it.

‘Never. What more treasure is there than that?’ He signalled out of the window towards the sea.

‘Too many people go in search of their fortune and it rarely does them good. I’ve seen it with the young’uns who head off to the city and years later they’re coming back.

Cornwall is in my blood, it’s in my roots, and anyway, I had a sense of duty to my family.

Even if I had wanted to leave, I couldn’t have done.

’ A shadow passed across his face as he said this.

‘How come?’ Lola asked, whilst all the hairs on her neck pricked up in anticipation. Beside her Tristan sat up taller, the expectation radiating off him.

‘Water under the bridge now, some things from the past don’t do with being dug up.

I don’t get all this harking back to the past, life moves on and changes, usually for the best.’ He chuckled, giving them both a glance as if he knew what they were up to.

‘There’s a lot more to look forward to you know, like this Festive Festival Sue’s organising.

’ His face lit up at the thought. ‘I’m very much looking forward to seeing what it’s all like, never had anything like it here before. ’

‘I’m sure it’s going to be grand.’ Lola beamed at him but inside her heart sank slightly.

Standing up and leaving Tristan explaining the Christmas tree festival to Alf, Lola began to clear away the plates, satisfied that she’d managed to get her Christmas Day plans all tied up with a big bow, which went a little way to make up for her disappointment that Alf was still reluctant to discuss the past. Ruby’s fate was clearly only to be discovered in her diary.

Or the letters. Lola hadn’t touched the letters yet. She felt they were the final chapter of the story. Perhaps she should read everything before jumping ahead and quizzing Alf. Maybe it would turn out that he was right, that the past was better left alone.