Page 48 of Christmas at the Little Cornish Bakery
It was the twenty-third of December and Polcarrow was divided into two camps: those panicking that they still had last-minute Christmas bits and bobs to buy and those who had already cracked open the mulled wine having accepted that they had done everything they could.
The whole of the village was in a flurry – wrapping last-minute gifts, catching up with friends over gingerbread lattes and snowman cupcakes, preparing for the crib service at the church or getting ready for relatives to descend.
The morning had been bright which meant the café had been busy with people buying hot chocolates and pastries to consume on the beach while the kids ran off some of their pent-up holiday energy.
Now with soft grey clouds rolling in over the bay, people had headed for home to get on with various Christmas chores.
‘Freya, stop it, you’re making me nervous!’ Lola exclaimed as she brought out a fresh batch of mince pies and some brownies. ‘Calm down, it’s only your parents.’ As the day had worn on, Freya had grown twitchier and twitchier about her family’s arrival. They were now due any moment.
Freya reached for one of the brownies before pulling her hand back. ‘Exactly! And they’re meeting Angelo for the first time.’
‘From what I’ve observed, Angelo is perfectly capable of being charming, I’m sure they’ll love him.’
‘But the bike and the tattoos—’
‘He sold the bike, remember, to help fund Bayview. As for the tattoos, well, unless you’re planning on whipping his jumper off, they don’t need to see them, do they?
’ Lola pointed out. ‘Stop flapping, it will all be fine. They’ll see how much he looks after you and that will win them over. What time are they arriving?’
Freya glanced at the clock. It was five past three. She sucked in a breath. ‘If traffic is good then they should be arriving any time now.’
‘Right, I’ll leave you to it, I’ve got a few things to finish.’ Lola gave her a smile and a shoulder squeeze. ‘It will all be fine, trust me, I’m the local oracle,’ she said with a wink.
‘Angelo’s making dinner for us all later, he’s doing some lasagnes, you and Tristan are more than welcome to join us, unless, of course, you have other plans?’ Freya said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
‘If you’re making those sort of insinuations about me and the local vicar, young lady, then I think it’s only right that we join you and prove that we’re perfectly capable of keeping our hands off each other for an evening. What time?’
‘Seven.’
‘Great, looking forward to it. I’ll text Tristan, pull him away from the Christmas Day sermon he’s been agonising over for the last couple of days,’ Lola said.
‘I’m not sure you should be leading him that astray,’ Freya warned.
‘Me, lead him astray? Never!’ Lola quipped as she popped her phone back in her pocket.