Page 22 of Christmas at the Little Cornish Bakery

Following the success of the light switch on and a little time spent watching them sparkle against the night sky, the residents of Polcarrow decamped to the pub to warm up.

Bar owner Steve was pleased that frosty fingers reached for his potent mulled wine and Lola was in no doubt that there’d be a few sore heads the following morning.

She’d taken one sip of it and secreted her glass away, hoping he wasn’t expecting his cake to match it for alcohol content.

Everyone buzzed around Angelo, who took the praise with an awkward smile whilst clutching his beer and sending ‘help me’ glances in Freya’s direction.

She only rescued him when she spied a local journalist trying to corner him.

Tiredness swooped in and after a long day on her feet Lola began to flag.

She stayed for one more drink, but didn’t dare brave the mulled wine again.

She wanted to be up early to get the Christmas pudding mixed together ready for everyone to give it a stir.

Desperate for sleep, she said her farewells.

Lola kissed Freya and Angelo goodnight, who clearly were ready for bed themselves, although, from the way they buzzed around each other, clearly not to sleep.

Stepping out of the pub Lola took in a deep breath of the cool night air, her gaze following the line of the harbour towards where the lobster pot tree twinkled.

She hoped Sue was proud of what she’d managed to achieve, the day had been a complete delight.

The sound of the pub door opening behind her caught Lola’s attention and she turned towards it expecting to see Freya and Angelo but instead Tristan stepped out, all wrapped up in a black puffer jacket and pulling on thick fleecy gloves.

‘Anyone would think you’re heading off on an Arctic expedition,’ Lola remarked, ‘not heading home along Polcarrow’s seafront.’

‘It’s always good to be prepared. Are you heading off or just getting a bit of fresh air?’

‘Heading off,’ she said with a yawn. ‘I’ve had a long day baking more mince pies than one village strictly should eat and it’s only the start of December.’

‘Come on, I’ll walk you home.’

‘Oh, you don’t need to do that, I’m perfectly safe,’ she said whilst trying to not remember some of her more dicey solo late-night walks home.

Tristan held out his arm. ‘I don’t, but I’d very much like to.’

Having no reason to protest further, Lola slipped her arm through his and they made their way slowly towards the tree and paused to watch it twinkle.

‘I did think Sue was a bit crazy when she suggested lobster pots,’ Tristan admitted, ‘not to mention when we bravely battled to make it, but now, I think it looks very jolly. I like it. And Angelo’s mermaid. I was worried he wasn’t going to turn up.’

Lola grimaced. ‘It was a bit hairy there for a moment. Freya was worried too, but Angelo is a man with integrity, if he says he’s going to do something, he does it. He just has a rather lax approach to timekeeping. I can’t wait to get a better look at her in the daylight.’

Meandering along the seafront, Lola tugged on Tristan’s arm, signalling him to stop.

‘Listen,’ she whispered, making them both pause, the sound of the waves whooshing against the shore.

‘Isn’t it beautiful? There’s absolutely nothing better than the sound of the sea.

I love how peaceful it is here, no cars, no planes, almost like the modern world is tucked away out of sight.

’ Lola tipped her head back, there was very little light pollution in Polcarrow and the stars were scattered across the dark sky like diamonds.

‘I used to be able to identify the constellations once upon a time,’ she sighed.

Tristan craned his neck. ‘You know when I first came here I was amazed at just how many stars I could see, especially after being in a city. I bought myself a little telescope and a constellations book.’

‘Did you?’ Lola gasped. ‘That’s very exciting.’

‘Well, it would be if I’d got the telescope out of its box and done more than flick through the book,’ he admitted.

Lola laughed. ‘Well, there’s a new year coming up, always a good time to add a hobby to the list.’

Tristan was silent for a while before speaking. ‘Lola, I know where we can go and properly watch the stars. There’s a little cove accessible if you’re not afraid of clambering down some rickety steps and the light pollution there is even less. We could go stargazing one night.’

Lola stared at him. ‘Stargazing?’ she repeated, her brain scrambling to work out if this would be a date or just an outing for two friends.

Tristan took her pause the wrong way. ‘Only if you want to, that is,’ he tried to backtrack.

‘No! I’d love to. It sounds . . .’ She couldn’t say romantic so she settled on, ‘Wonderful. Wonderful and enchanting.’

‘Great.’ Tristan gathered himself together. ‘Well, we need a clear night, so I’ll look at the calendar and the weather and work out when would be best to go. You’ll have to wrap up warm though, I reckon it could get chilly.’

Lola resisted the urge to suggest he could keep her warm.

Ever since she’d helped him decorate the tree she had been wondering how to cross the friendship barrier she’d put up.

The one Freya was encouraging her to dismantle.

Maybe this was it? Stargazing had date stamped all over it.

She stole a glance at Tristan. With his kind, open face and his affable nature, she found it difficult to subscribe wholeheartedly to her mantra that men just made life more complicated.

A voice inside her whispered that he’d make it so much easier, if she just gave him a chance.

‘Thank you, I will certainly dig out some extra layers,’ she told him. ‘Ooh how exciting, a midnight picnic on the beach. Let me know what I can bring.’

Placing a hand on her arm, he stopped her. ‘Lola, you bring nothing, let me look after you for once.’

Lola dissolved at the way he said those words. No one had ever offered to look after her before.