Page 9 of Christmas at the Little Cornish Bakery

‘Alf?’ She pointed at the man with the fairer hair. ‘That’s what I wanted to ask you, if you think it’s him?’

They both leaned in close over the photo, heads almost touching, to give it more consideration, studying the faces as they came to the same conclusion.

‘Lola, I think it is, that’s definitely the same grin he gives whenever he’s up to mischief now. Did you think it was him?’

Lola nodded and sat back, relieved. ‘I did!’ She picked up the photo and studied it, lost for words, trying to get her head around the fact that her grandmother had spent a summer in the same place Lola now called home and that she knew Alf.

‘Are you OK, Lola?’ Tristan asked softly when she’d been silent for a while.

Lola nodded. ‘Yes, I think so. It’s a lot to think about. It feels rather mad.’

‘You had no idea your grandmother came here?’

‘I only knew that she knew the name from the recipe book. I just assumed she’d come here on holiday with Grandad or something.

We used to come to Cornwall on holiday as kids but never as far down as this.

Ruby always just said she liked Cornwall because it was beautiful, like another world, but wouldn’t say anything else.

As a child I thought that just meant it was really far away, because, well, it is.

I never thought it might have been a different world for her in another sense. ’

‘And you think she knew Alf?’

‘If it’s him in the photo, it seems that way.

’ Lola looked at the photo. Ruby wasn’t turned towards Alf, but to the other young man, something silent passed between them, captured on film for all eternity.

‘But who’s the other man? He seems to be the one Ruby’s interested in. Look how close they are.’

Tristan picked the photo up again. ‘No idea. I take it it’s not your grandad or another boyfriend you know of?’

Lola shook her head. ‘It’s certainly not Grandad. He looks sort of at home, like he’s a local or something.’

They both studied him, his features slightly blurred as he turned towards Ruby. From what Lola could make out, he was tall with a thatch of fair hair, his skin sun-kissed. ‘Do you reckon he’s still alive somewhere? Does he look a bit local?’

Tristan picked up the photo, brought it close to his face, before passing it to Lola. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he does a bit. Looks like he’s used to being outdoors. Alf would probably know him.’

Lola took the photo from Tristan. ‘Maybe, but he’s so reluctant to talk about the past that I don’t feel right just slapping it down in front of him and asking, “Is that you and did you know my nan?”. I can’t, can I?’

Tristan laughed. ‘No, but .?.?.’ His face darkened.

‘What?’

‘No, it’s just a thought.’

‘Oh, you can’t leave it like that!’

Tristan poured some more tea for them both.

‘Remember those young men who died at sea. Remember Alf’s brother was one of them.

After the memorial I read up about it in a local history book.

Terrible tragedy. They were warned not to go out, but they went all the same.

No one knows why. They never came back. Maybe . . .’

Lola was silent for a moment as she absorbed Tristan’s suggestion but it was too big for her to get her head around.

‘I wonder if that’s why Alf is so focused on looking forward.

Too much sadness in the past. What if this is one of the lads who was lost at sea?

Oh my gosh! Imagine if it was Alf’s brother!

And what if something happened between him and Ruby?

’ Lola gasped, tapping at the man next to Ruby. ‘Maybe we should go and ask Alf?’

Tristan considered this, his eyes catching hers. ‘Lola, the answer is likely to be in the diary. Maybe you should read it first? What if it’s nothing? We shouldn’t risk upsetting Alf, should we?’

‘You’re right, I’m getting carried away. But .?.?. I feel it here—’ Lola tapped her heart ‘—that there’s something more going on. But I’m a bit scared of finding out just what.’ She glanced down at the faded red cloth cover, at the secrets that were still contained in it.

‘Ruby was clearly very special to you and if you need anything, to talk or just a friendly listening ear, then I’m here for you,’ he said in a low voice, in a way that hinted at more than digging up the past.

‘Thank you, that would be wonderful, if you don’t have too much else on, what with Christmas kind of being your big event and all that.’

Tristan reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Nothing’s ever too much for you, Lola.’

The connection and the weight of the unspoken meaning behind those words melted something in Lola. Glancing at their hands, she felt as if she never wanted to let go.