‘I’m sure you did the right thing and did it well,’ Lola told him. ‘You’re always very considerate. How long were you together?’
‘Two years, so long enough for people to start asking questions, including myself, but I was completely burnt out by my old parish and needed to recharge.’ Tristan sipped his tea and changed the subject. ‘Speaking of doomed love affairs, have you read the letters yet?’
Lola shook her head. ‘No, they feel like they really are the end of things. I’m a bit scared to open them. I’ve been reading about this love affair that made Ruby so happy and we all know Charlie died and Ruby married my Grandad Ernest, so there’s clearly not the happy ending anyone had been thinking of. I’m just enjoying being swept away to that glorious post-war summer where they were all full of youthful hope. Ruby was happy with my grandad later and it’s easy to forget that while digging up the past.’
Tristan was silent for a long while before saying, ‘How did you become so wise, Lola?’
‘Me, wise? I just watch people, listen to them. When people come to me for a palm reading or the tarot cards, I know they’re after solace or guidance. They feel lost and it’s quite easy to make them feel better.’
‘Do you ever tell people if you see something awful?’
Lola shook her head. ‘Never. Because what if it doesn’t come to pass? Especially with the tarot cards, it’s all suggestive. I know there’s this wonderful, romantic notion of fate – that our lives are all plotted and planned out, and yes, to some extent, I really believe that we are led down certain paths and have chance meetings. But there are always forks in the road, so if something doesn’t work out you’ll be magically redirected towards something that will. Those choices determine where we end up.’
‘Like us both being here,’ Tristan said, his voice carefully light.
Lola swallowed back the thought of fate drawing them together, down to the very tip of the country, at the same time. ‘Yes, exactly,’ she said as their eyes caught, the firelight making Tristan’s eyes burn like two blue flames. ‘I’m glad it brought us both here. All of us, actually. Think of it. Angelo and Freya. Sometimes it’s too mad to think of all these chance encounters and how they all turn up. Even I can’t get my head around it.’
‘Well, you don’t need to figure it out just yet,’ Tristan told her, before reaching to pull his bag over to him. ‘I have something special for you.’
Lola’s eyes lit up. ‘What? I’m intrigued!’ She leaned forward eagerly to watch what he’d do next.
Tristan delved into his rucksack and pulled out a box. Lifting the lid, he shone his torch onto a perfectly baked pineapple upside down cake.
‘No way! For me?’ Lola’s voice caught, remembering the conversation they’d had when prepping for the Christmas cakes. ‘No one has ever baked for me before.’
‘Probably because they wouldn’t dare. I’m pretty proud of how it turned out though, but I know looks are only one part. Do you want to try it?’
‘Yes please!’ She clapped her hands together in delight.
‘Sorry I couldn’t bring any custard,’ he said as he cut generous slices of the cake and passed one to her.
Lola took the slice from him. ‘I’m sure I’ll forgive you. Would’ve been a bit messy.’ She took a bite. The sweetness of the pineapple had soaked into the light sponge, the taste bringing back school day memories; wet lunch breaks where they kicked around the corridors, the smell of chalk on the blackboard, the cookery classes that had been her favourite because she’d excelled. ‘Oh my God, this is amazing, you really made it?’
Tristan laughed. ‘Yes, and I’m guessing that’s your seal of approval.’
‘It’s delicious. I think if I were to freeze to death out here you’d be able to keep the café going. Do you think I could add this to the menu?’
‘I don’t see why not, but I’m not coming round every morning to bake one for you.’
Lola pouted. ‘Shame. I could do it in the new year – retro bakes to cheer everyone up. Everyone’s always so depressed in January but I see it as a fresh start.’ She finished off the cake and confessed, ‘This has been a real treat, it’s been a long time since someone has made me sit back and relax. Thank you.’
Tristan took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘You don’t have to do anything alone any longer, Lola, you have me. There’s Freya and Alf and even Angelo. You have us.’
Lola squeezed his hand back. There was a pause, a moment when the thought of leaning forward and kissing him assailed her. He’d taste of tea and whisky and sweet pineapple. Lola sat back, befuddled, reminding herself it was the whisky and the surprise cake that was getting her all carried away . ‘Thank you. I feel so safe here, so at peace. I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.’
‘That’s good to hear because I for one don’t want you to leave.’ Tristan pulled himself up and before Lola could register what he’d said, he’d changed the subject. ‘Now, how about some more tea and we do a bit of stargazing. I brought my portable telescope and the book about the constellations.’
He passed the book to Lola, who began to flick through it. ‘When’s your birthday?’
‘Sixth of March, why? Are you going to do my birth chart because I’m not sure I’m meant to wholly believe being a vicar and all that?’
‘No, I’m not actually that good at birth charts, so you’re safe. I was just curious.’
‘Hmm. When’s yours?’
‘Has Freya not cornered you yet? It’s Christmas Eve!’
‘What? Really?’
