Page 29 of Christmas at the Little Cornish Bakery

Dear Diary,

It seems to have become a thing me sneaking out of the house to meet Charlie.

I must confess it’s absolutely thrilling, like something from a book.

His face always lights up when he sees me and that makes me happier than I could ever imagine being.

This morning we sat on the beach eating some scones his mum had made.

They were divine. I made so much fuss about them that he’s going to ask his mum to teach me the recipe so I can make them when I get home as a memory of Cornwall.

Cornwall and Charlie being nothing more than a memory was like a black cloud across my sun.

I told him that and he was silent for a moment, then he turned to me, looked me in the eyes, like he was properly seeing me, and after a deep breath he suggested that if we wanted, we could make this more than a holiday.

I didn’t know what to say so instead I kissed him and he had to go off on the boat, but when I see him next I’m going to tell him yes, let’s make this more than a holiday romance.

So, there it was, written in black and white in Ruby’s hurried, girlish writing, confirmation that the scone recipe had come full circle back to its home in Polcarrow. Lola tried, but failed, to comprehend the strange, almost magical set of circumstances that had led to this twist of fate.

She carried out a fresh batch of scones and put them in pride of place on the counter.

She then made her way to the window, pulling up the blinds, as if waking the café up for the day.

Lola gazed out of the window at the flat grey sea.

As much as Polcarrow buzzed in the summertime she was fond of an out-of-season seaside town, it was like a showgirl minus the makeup.

She glanced around the café, all decked out for Christmas and took a sip of her gingerbread latte.

Unable to sleep following her date with Tristan, she was up early and had already baked a batch of gingerbread men, a chocolate cake and the orange and cranberry scones, which had been going down a treat.

Glancing at her to-do list, Lola crossed off the bakes and quickly scrawled down her daily gratitude list, making sure that Tristan didn’t take up all three points.

She’d washed the scent of the bonfire out of her hair that morning, but as the memory of cosying up around the flames filled her mind, an idea began to form, one she sat back and let brew whilst she watched the seagulls soaring outside as she finished her coffee.

The sea was always instantly calming, a reminder that nature was a bigger force than any human and that the world would roll on and on long after she was gone.

The thought was huge but strangely comforting.

Putting down her mug, Lola picked up her pen to write, but paused, not quite ready to commit the slowly forming idea to paper.

There was a yearning in her to do something special, something different, something Polcarrow probably hadn’t seen before.

She wanted to show them something from her world, something a bit deeper than gingham bunting and a perfectly risen Victoria sponge.

All the buzz surrounding the lobster pot tree made her think the village wanted new and different experiences.

Lola leaned into the comfort of her idea.

Now that it was growing, she knew she wouldn’t be able to let it go.

As much as she loved the bright promise of a rose-tinted, never-ending summer’s day, there was something about the short dark winter months that appealed to Lola’s more pagan side.

Something about the winter solstice always stirred her, a chance to reflect on the year that had passed, to put it to bed before the Christmas celebrations kicked off.

An opportunity to give thanks for everything she had been blessed with.

A way of welcoming in the coming light. Lola had always performed her own ritual – lighting candles, meditating and purifying herself and her surroundings with sage – but what if she offered the people of Polcarrow the chance to do the same, to partake in the ritual together?

A bonfire on the beach to say goodbye to the old year.

She chuckled to herself imagining Cathy’s horrified face.

The village stalwart was hugely opposed to change.

Still, if no one wanted to join in, she’d do it alone.

That would give everyone something to gossip about.

It was important to Lola that she did something to honour her first year in Polcarrow, to give thanks for all she had achieved and the friends she had made.

Ruby would definitely approve. She had always enjoyed listening to Lola’s tales of partaking in fire walks, forest retreats and dawn yoga sessions.

Gosh, she hadn’t done yoga in years, she realised.

So many parts of her old life had been parcelled up and packed away, but now Lola wondered if it was time to pull out the hairpins and unleash that side of her, provide an antidote to the ever-encroaching commercialism of the season.

Lola quickly added ‘Plan Solstice Ritual’ to her list and vowed to run the idea past Tristan, to see what he thought and, hopefully, if he gave it his seal of approval, the rest of the village would too.

Some had raised eyebrows at her offering tea and tarot but many had been intrigued enough to have their cards read so she felt confident that enough people would be interested in celebrating the solstice as well.

Tristan and Alf arrived at the same time, just after opening, and Lola was surprised that Alf didn’t suspect anything had shifted between her and Tristan with the matching smiles that spread across their faces.

Lola didn’t get a chance to speak to Tristan properly as Alf had commandeered his attention and then the early morning coffee rush began.

It was only when he came to pay for his breakfast that Tristan cast a quick glance over his shoulder and asked in a low voice, ‘Are you doing anything tomorrow night?’

Lola pretended to think about it. ‘I guess I could fit you in.’

Tristan laughed. ‘Great, I’ll pick you up at seven.’

‘It’s a date,’ Lola said, grinning at the cheesy line and realising it was true.

In lieu of a kiss, Tristan gave her hand the briefest squeeze.

The following evening, they were ensconced in very cosy, rustic pub in a village further down the coast, famous for its fish pie and local ales.

Lola had decided to try both. Glancing around whilst Tristan placed their order at the bar, she admired the way the establishment was decked out in all sorts of seafaring paraphernalia and entwined with fairy lights.

Sea-shanty-style Christmas carols were playing in the background. Lola relaxed into the vibe.

‘This place is gorgeous,’ she said as she chinked her glass against Tristan’s. ‘How did you discover it?’

‘I was looking for somewhere nice to take you and this place had such a good write-up. Plus, it’s away from home, so we won’t have anyone eavesdropping into our conversation.

’ Tristan rubbed his face. ‘Being a vicar means you’re considered public property and honestly, I could sometimes do with a break from Cathy popping around to complain about the hymns I’ve chosen or telling me which bits of my sermon she didn’t like.

I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for being under seventy and having all my own teeth. ’

Lola laughed. ‘Well, I’m very glad you’re under seventy and have all your own teeth. All those old vicars must have been young once,’ she mused.

‘Some people just struggle with change,’ he said diplomatically.

‘I understand it, life’s constants are what keep us feeling safe.

Cathy had the ear of the old vicar. It gave her status in the community so I can understand why she doesn’t like me coming in and changing things.

I’ve had to use a lot of compassion and tact. ’

Lola considered this for a while. ‘You are very wise. I guess it comes with the job?’

‘Something like that—’ he smiled ‘—but it’s more that I’ve allowed myself time to observe people.

I see them at their happiest at weddings and christenings and then at their lowest at funerals and grief counselling.

It teaches you a lot about humanity. It’s taught me a lot about myself too.

I guess you find that as well with your alternative therapies? ’

‘“Alternative therapies”, I like that.’ Lola sipped her drink and considered this. ‘Yes, I do. People mainly want reassurance, they normally know the answers but just need a little help finding them.’

‘So can you predict the future?’ Tristan asked with genuine curiosity.

Lola considered this before replying, ‘I don’t know if it’s so much that I can predict the future but more I get a hunch or a vision or a sense that something will happen.

Like Freya and Angelo. I had a feeling there was a reason for them both to come here.

I read Freya’s cards and got an image of a dark man.

I felt the calling to come here too and well, look .

. .’ With a smile she signalled at him. ‘It’s all turned out very well, although, I didn’t get a premonition of all this, just a sense that I had to move, that there was something about the name Ruby had written in her diary and, well, it turns out there was. ’

‘Does that not scare you a bit?’

Lola studied him, realising that she could be completely open and honest with him. ‘Yes, it does. I would always have found my way here eventually, Ruby’s diary would have tempted me had I not already been here. Now I can’t think of being anywhere else. How did you feel about coming here?’

‘Relieved, mostly. The city had been tough. The constant deprivation, the problems, I needed some space to recharge, to stop myself questioning everything. It’s hard to tell people that it’s all in God’s plan when they’re really suffering.

I learned not to use that line pretty quickly.

I experienced a bit of a crisis of faith before I decided my role was to be there as a guide, a listener and that helps a lot more than anything.

Not just for me, but for the people who depend on me.

’ He took a sip of his drink. ‘I didn’t expect to be here long.

I thought I’d get bored, but I’ve grown to love Cornwall and the people I’ve found here.

It’s been very healing, more so than I expected.

It’s definitely where I want to put down roots. ’

Lola reached for his hand. ‘It does feel like magic to think how many of us have been drawn here and plan to stay. It feels like some sort of divine alignment.’

Conversation stalled as their food arrived and they tucked in. Lola could see why the fish pie was scoring so high on the online ratings.

‘That was amazing,’ she said as she put down her knife and fork. ‘Thank you so much for this.’

‘It’s been my pleasure. Any space for dessert?’

Lola made a show of pretending to be too full but still perusing the menu she asked, ‘What would you go for?’

Tristan studied the options. ‘It feels really indulgent on top of that, but probably a sticky toffee pudding.’

‘That’s my favourite,’ Lola gasped, catching the glint in his eye before suggesting, ‘While we’re here I think it’d be rude not to try it, I mean, it says recommended.’

‘You’ve twisted my arm, Lola, shall we share it?’

‘Yes, I think if I have a whole one, you’ll be rolling me home! I’m so full already!’

Tristan pulled a serious face as he leaned across the table. ‘But the most important question is: custard or ice cream?’

Lola squirmed as if it was a trick before declaring, ‘Ice cream because I like the way it melts in with the hot toffee sauce.’ She waited with bated breath and Tristan pretended to consider his answer. ‘Go on, stop it! Put me out my misery!’

‘OK.’ He leaned even closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. ‘I’d be going for the ice cream too.’

Lola let out a sigh of relief. ‘Phew! That settles it then.’ She turned to the waiter who had come over to their table and with a beaming smile ordered one sticky toffee pudding, with ice cream, to share.

While they waited for their dessert, they linked hands over the table.

Lola liked the way they fitted together, how Tristan made her feel anchored in a way no one else ever had.

The silence that fell between them was companionable, like a blanket to sink into, a peacefulness Lola hadn’t realised she’d been craving.

‘This is wonderful,’ she said, ‘I’m always on the go, always doing something, it’s nice to just . . . be.’ She smoothed her thumb over his knuckles. ‘There is something I’m thinking of doing and want your opinion on it.’

‘Go on.’

‘All this Christmas stuff has got me thinking about the other side of the season, the more pagan side. I’ve always marked the solstice with a little ritual. Candles, incense, meditation, and I’d like to do something like that for Polcarrow, get anyone who wants to come along involved.’

‘Do you want my seal of approval?’

Lola nodded.

‘What are you planning on doing for it?’

Lola shrugged. ‘The ideas are vague but a big bonfire for us all to gather around. I’ll do a meditation and we can have a bit of a social afterwards.’

‘Sounds like it would be a great opportunity to take a break from all the crazy last-minute shopping.’

‘Is that your seal of approval?’

‘Do you really need it?’ he asked softly.

Lola thought about this. ‘No, but it’s nice to have it.’

Tristan placed his other hand on top of their linked ones. ‘Consider this my official blessing.’

Laughter burst out of Lola. The waiter appeared and laid the bowl of sticky toffee pudding down between them, along with two spoons. Lola picked hers up and gave the ice cream a little prod. It slipped around on the sauce as it melted.

‘It looks very good,’ Tristan said as he let go of her hand. ‘I wonder if it’ll be as good as everything you make.’

Lola leaned across as if to impart a secret.

‘I suspect my enjoyment of this will be heightened by the fact I didn’t have to make it and I don’t have to wash up afterwards.

’ With that she swiped up a spoonful of pudding and ice cream and popped it into her mouth, sighing at the heavenly flavours.

Tristan’s eyes went from Lola to the pudding and back again as if he didn’t know which one he wanted the most.