The Saturday of the Festive Festival dawned clear and bright, promising one of those perfect blue-skied winter days, where sitting wrapped up on the beach with a takeaway coffee would feel like a treat. As she unlocked the café, for what she knew would be a very brisk day of trade, Lola praised the fact the weather gods had seen fit to bless Polcarrow for the event. With a yawn, she set herself up for the day, turning on the fairy lights she and Freya had hung from the shelves and giving the Christmas tree a little bit of a touch up. Freya arrived and shrugged off her coat, an air of sleepiness still hanging around her. They’d been working late the previous night to get the café looking shipshape for the festival. Lola was pleased with her bunting and the little Christmas tree they’d managed to perch rather precariously on the countertop in front of the till.
Sue flew through the café door about fifteen minutes after opening, panicking that everything wasn’t quite ready, making Lola wonder if she needed a shot of brandy, not gingerbread syrup, in her coffee.
‘It will all be fine,’ Lola reassured her as she passed her the frothy drink. ‘You’ve got a perfect day for it and you know the lobster pot tree has been all anyone can talk about. I can’t wait to see it all lit up properly.’
Sue sipped her drink. ‘I was hoping we’d have the topper by now,’ she said with a glance in Freya’s direction. ‘It was supposed to be delivered this morning ready for when the festival starts.’
Panic flashed across Freya’s face. ‘I’m sure it’s all in hand, you know what Angelo’s like.’ She gave a nervous laugh before realising Sue didn’t know. ‘He’s a perfectionist. Don’t worry, I bet he’s just making last-minute tweaks.’
Sue’s phone started ringing and stopped any further questions about Angelo’s whereabouts. Juggling her coffee and her bags, Sue waved at them and made her way out of the café.
Lola turned to Freya and asked, ‘It is all OK with Angelo, isn’t it?’
Freya exhaled. ‘I don’t know. I hope so. He’s been a bit secretive about the project. I’ve not seen the topper yet but I know he is working on it. I wasn’t going to tell Sue but I’m a bit worried that he’s not finished it.’
‘Do you want to go and check on him?’
Freya shook her head. ‘That’s the last thing he’d want. We’ll just have to trust he’ll turn up in time.’
‘You all right if I take these up to the church?’ Lola asked as she emerged from the kitchen later that morning, her arms laden with the boxes of mince pies Sue and Tristan had ordered.
Freya’s eyes popped out at the sight of them. ‘How many mince pies do you think people are going to eat? You know what, we should’ve had a mince pie eating contest. I bet Alf would’ve been up for that.’ She picked up her phone, scrolled, then put it down again.
Lola laughed. ‘He’d probably cheat and get Scruff to help.’ Noticing Freya was acting a bit twitchy she asked, ‘You sure you’re OK? You can take these if you want to have a break and I’ll man the counter?’
‘I’m fine. I may have had one coffee too many and I’m worried about Angelo. There’s still no news about the tree topper. Nothing. I’m a bit concerned that if it’s not up to scratch he won’t bring it,’ Freya confessed. ‘I thought he’d have been here by now and he’s not replied to any of my texts or calls.’
‘Oh, Freya, I’m sure he won’t let Polcarrow down,’ Lola placated. ‘I’ll be back as quickly as I can then you can go and check on him. Call me if there’s any sort of cake-related emergency.’
Freya rolled her eyes and signalled to the counter with its piles of festive-themed bakes. ‘I think it’s highly unlikely. We’ll be eating snowman cupcakes all week. I’ve already had two,’ she announced almost proudly.
Chapter Fourteen
As Lola made her way up to the church she could see that the Festive Festival was proving to be a success. Carol singers were standing on the harbour front singing. What they lacked in talent they made up for with enthusiasm and they had attracted a small audience. Children bundled up against the cold and wearing an assortment of Christmas hats ran around on the beach and people were pausing to admire the lobster pot tree. Lola pushed open the door to the church and gasped with surprise at the sight that greeted her. Inside, the church twinkled like a grotto with all the tree lights switched on and gentle carols were playing on an old CD player. There had been a performance from the primary school and locals hovered around the refreshment table, where Lola deposited the boxes of mince pies to a very grateful-looking Jan and Sue.
‘So far so good,’ Sue said as she opened one of the boxes.
‘Do either of you need a break or a hand?’ Lola asked.
Both women shook their heads, ‘No, Cathy’s going to come in a bit,’ Jan said. ‘You’ve been working in the café so go and have five minutes and look at the trees, some of them are lovely.’
Lola glanced around, finding the way the church glittered magical. Wondering where to start, she noticed people were gathered around the gratitude tree reading the cards and adding their own thoughts to the branches. A surprised smile spread across her face. Although she’d suggested the idea to Tristan, Lola had no idea he’d actually decided to set it up. Heading to the tree, she began to read the messages. Some brought tears to her eyes, but then Alf’s made her chuckle. She glanced around, trying to find him and spotted Steve sitting in Santa’s grotto, dressed in a rather threadbare Santa outfit, handing out small gifts to the local children and listening to their earnest little wishes. Even Scruff was in on the action, wearing a set of antlers with a level of obedience Lola would never have imagined he possessed.
Alf was sitting outside the grotto, an elf hat on his head. ‘Think I’m a bit old to be an elf,’ he grumbled when Lola took him a mince pie, ‘but it was the only way to get a seat for the duration, plus, I’m looking after the reindeer.’ He slipped Scruff a bit of pie crust. ‘Tristan’s done a good job, but he did tell me that tree of hope, or gratitude, was your idea. Everyone has been writing something down.’
‘Thanks for mentioning on yours that you’re grateful for my baking.’
‘Well, I am! Been a long time since I had a scone that good, reminded me a bit of the ones my mum used to make. Aggie, the previous owner, tried her best, but bought in scones could never be up to your standards.’
Lola was very tempted to blurt out that maybe they tasted like the ones his mum had made because quite possibly it was his mum Ruby had got the recipe from. Instead, she dropped a kiss on Alf’s head. ‘Always my biggest fan, but I think I better go and circulate. Find Tristan.’
‘When you circle back this way you couldn’t bring me another pie and a cuppa, could you?’
‘Of course.’
Lola made her way around the church, stopping to admire each tree. The one from the primary school was adorned with salt dough candy canes, all painted in a variety of lurid colours by enthusiastic children. The Women’s Institute had chosen white and silver, producing an elegant tree, but the effect was rather spoiled by it being next to the pub tree. Steve had clearly run out of inspiration and had hole-punched several beer mats and attached them alongside some precarious-looking fairy lights. Various other clubs had made a good show of their trees but the gratitude tree had the most people buzzing about it.
‘Think that’s been a success, don’t you?’ Tristan sidled up to her.
