‘There wasn’t much time. It’s OK, I’m used to it. It gives the villagers something stable, unchanged to feel at peace with. Tea or coffee?’
‘Tea please.’
Tristan disappeared into the kitchen leaving Lola to have a little nose about the living area, searching for something, anything personal, but there was nothing other than a few early Christmas cards and some photos of people Lola assumed were Tristan’s sister’s children. Photos of them were dotted around the place and an adorable one tugged at Lola’s heart. Tristan and the three children were hanging from a set of monkey bars in an autumnal park. Lola picked it up off the shelf for a closer look, her heart melting a little. Tristan was a bit younger, his golden hair still gloriously getting in his eyes, which were alight with humour from messing about with the children, who had been captured with big, laughing grins on their faces. Lola turned, photo still in hand, as Tristan entered.
‘I hope it’s up to standard,’ he said as he passed a mug to her. ‘Ah, that’s my niece and nephews. Harriet, Oliver and Sam. They’re generally really well behaved – too well behaved in fact for three under tens, so I like to go and ruffle their feathers, as much to annoy my sister as anything else.’
‘They’re very cute. How come they’ve not visited?’ Lola asked as she replaced the photo.
‘Busy lives,’ Tristan explained, but not before he’d taken a longing look at the photo. ‘My brother-in-law started a new job and ended up not being able to take the leave they’d hoped for. My sister hates driving long distances and can you imagine navigating that lot on the train?’ Tristan chuckled, but Lola noticed the sadness in his eyes. He clearly missed them. ‘Still, I’ll go and visit in the New Year, and they’ve already got a holiday cottage booked for the two-week Easter holiday. I do miss them.’
‘Lucky them having an uncle by the sea.’
‘Yes, they can’t wait to go surfing. I don’t know how to tell them that it’s not my cup of tea.’
‘Oh, we’ll send Freya out with them, she’s dying to give it a try.’
Tristan smiled his gratitude. ‘I’ll remember that. So, shall we get on with this tree then? Two pairs of hands will be quicker than one.’
Lola suspected that the plastic tree and decorations had been inherited with the rectory. They smelled rather musty and the baubles had lost a bit of their shine, but once on the tree along with well-placed fairy lights and tinsel the tree would sparkle.
‘It needs to go by the window—’ Lola intercepted Tristan as he went to position it by the fireplace ‘—so people can see it as they walk past.’
Following her advice, Tristan moved the tree to the space in front of the window. Lola stepped forward and fluffed up the branches, evening it out. ‘Now, that’s a lot better. Can you pass me the decorations.
‘Thank God you’re here to supervise,’ he said as he brought the box over to Lola, watching as she rummaged through the red and gold baubles and tinsel.
Smiling up at him she said, ‘Decorating a tree is always more fun with two people. Here, can you check the lights actually work?’
Once he’d confirmed the lights did work, Tristan put on a Christmas music playlist and they bopped around as they hung the baubles and Lola wrapped tinsel around the mirror and mantelpiece, before draping some around her own neck and then Tristan’s. Two pairs of hands made quick work of the tree. Lola reached into the box and handed Tristan the star. ‘It’s your tree, you do the honours.’
Tristan reached up and carefully placed the golden star on the top. ‘Do you think Angelo is going to make something for the lobster pot tree? I worry I put him on the spot.’
‘Freya seems confident he’s working on something. He wouldn’t have volunteered unless he wanted to do it. He takes his artistic integrity quite seriously, so I wouldn’t worry too much.’
They lapsed into silence as they studied the tree, checking it over, making sure it was all perfect. Lola swapped a couple of baubles round then stepped back.
‘Do you think it’s ready?’ Tristan asked as he straightened up the star on the top.
Lola gave the tree a final once-over. ‘Yes, I think it’s perfect, anything else would just spoil it.’
Tristan smiled at her. ‘Close your eyes and I’ll do the honours with the lights.’
Lola nodded and uncoiled a length of tinsel she’d been wearing like a red sparkly feather boa. Closing her eyes, she felt him move across the room, heard the switch and the room was plunged into a darkness full of anticipation. Lola felt it prickle at her neck, the dryness at the back of her tongue.
‘No peeking,’ Tristan instructed from somewhere to her right.
Lola heard the click of the switch being flicked, felt the darkness recede and as Tristan took his place beside her, everything about the moment felt right, comforting.
‘Open your eyes, Lola,’ he instructed, his voice as soft as a kiss.
Slowly, savouring the moment, Lola opened her eyes and gasped. The tree was glorious, the golden lights sparkled like a hundred little wishes. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, risking a glance at Tristan.
He was watching her reaction, a look of tenderness on his face laying bare his feelings, as if she was the most beautiful thing in the room, not the tree. Overwhelmed, Lola turned back to the tree, and later she couldn’t say if she imagined it or not, but she swore she felt the briefest glance of his fingers against hers, sparking something inside her.
‘We make a good team,’ he said. His eyes met hers and something warm began to unfurl inside Lola, something that felt very much like coming home.
Chapter Thirteen
