Lola let out a sigh of relief. ‘Glad they pass the test. Angelo? Freya?’
‘I like them,’ Freya said as she helped herself to the half Angelo hadn’t eaten. He wasn’t one for indulging in too many sweet treats. ‘What else are you making?’
Warming to the theme, Lola rattled off a list of all the things she was planning on serving in the café. ‘Chocolate logs, themed cupcakes and mince pies of course.’
‘I bet your pies are better than any supermarket,’ Alf said, ‘they’re my favourite after scones. I can’t wait to try them.’
‘Alf, I’ll make as many mince pies as you can possibly eat,’ Lola promised.
‘That sounds like a challenge, Lola, one that I am happy to accept.’ Alf’s eyes twinkled.
‘I’m also going to make Christmas cakes and I’ll decorate them however you want. Freya, could you possibly make me a poster to put in the window please? What do you think? I don’t know how many people make their own anymore. I was helping in a bakery last Christmas and they did a roaring trade in them. Do you think anyone will want one?’
‘I think that sounds marvellous,’ Tristan reassured her. ‘I’m sure people would much rather buy a locally baked cake than something off the supermarket shelf. We used to get inundated with them at my old parish – so much so that last year we did a taste test. Poor Mrs Mulligan prided herself on her fruitcake only to be pipped to the post by a supermarket one. We didn’t have the heart to tell her. Put me down as your first order.’
‘And me, but don’t skimp on the brandy,’ Alf warned her.
Lola reached into her apron pocket and pulled out her notebook. ‘Excellent, my first customers, how would you like them decorated?’
‘Not much surprises me at my age so I’ll leave it up to you.’ Alf winked.
Lola cast a glance at Tristan, pen poised.
‘Ooh, I’ll have a surprise decoration too.’
Lola glanced at Freya and Angelo, who shook their heads. ‘I’ll make a poster though,’ Freya promised.
‘Excellent, thanks.’ Lola slipped the notebook back into her pocket. ‘I love Christmas. What was it like here in the old days, Alf?’ she asked. ‘I’d love to know all about a traditional Polcarrow Christmas and maybe try and honour that somehow.’
‘Old days, hey, you make me sound ancient! We didn’t have all this fancy stuff to be sure. Midnight mass, Christmas Day drink in the pub, carol singers.’ Alf sat back and thoughtfully regarded Lola and Tristan. ‘I know its a cliché to say it, but it was a much simpler time. People just want rubbish now, stuff for stuff’s sake. We didn’t have much but my ma always used to make a Christmas cake, silver sixpence and everything in it, or was that the pudding, I forget now. She made sure whatever happened we enjoyed ourselves. That was until, well, you know .?.?.’ A shadow passed over Alf’s face as he silently recalled his memories. ‘But there’s no point dwelling on the past, is there? We’ve done enough of that for one day. I’m more interested in seeing what a modern, Lola Christmas looks like.’
Alf held up his mug and Tristan chinked his cup against it. ‘I second that.’
Chapter Two
Lola didn’t have to wait long to find out what a modern day Christmas in Polcarrow would look like. On Wednesday morning, Sue Chapman, leader of the village committee, bustled into the café, half the contents of her overlarge handbag threatening to spill out as she pulled out a bunch of flyers and handed them to Lola.
‘Festive festival?’ Lola questioned.
‘You know how successful reviving the Fisherman’s Fair was in the summer?’
Lola nodded. It had been wonderful to see the village full of people taking part in the sandcastle competition, admiring the fishing boats and eating cream teas. The whole fair had created a bit of local buzz and after appearing inCornish Lifemagazine, Alf had become a local celebrity.
‘Well, we had the most wonderful idea to put together all the various festive events.’ Sue pulled her multicoloured reading glasses from her head and put them on. Taking the top flyer, she explained to Lola, ‘Last year we just sort of had a church bazaar but this year Tristan wants to hold a Christmas tree festival and I thought, what if we had a light switch on as well?’ Sue passed the flyer to Lola before reaching into her pocket for her phone. Lola waited as she swiped through various screens before turning it to Lola. ‘What do you think of that?’
Taking the phone from Sue, Lola studied the photo, which appeared to be of a stack of lobster pots fashioned to look like a Christmas tree. ‘Oh, Sue, that is absolutely gorgeous! I love it. How are you going to make it though?’
‘I thought I’d ask for volunteers to help,’ she confessed. ‘My husband thinks it’s a bit bonkers and wonders what on earth is wrong with a real tree. But I love this—’ she smiled fondly at the photo on her phone ‘—and if we can pull it off, I mean, how difficult can it possibly be to stack together some lobster pots and drape lights over them? I think it could be something really special.’ Sue slipped her phone back into her pocket. ‘So can I leave some leaflets with you?’
‘Of course you can! I’ll even stick one in the window.’
‘Perfect! Now, while I’m here it’d be a bit rude not to have a gingerbread latte, wouldn’t it? Even though it is still November.’
‘It’s never too early for a gingerbread latte, Sue,’ Lola told her. ‘Takeaway or drink in?’
Sue glanced over her shoulder. ‘In. The laundry can’t find me here. Add in one of those brownies too, please.’
After the lunchtime rush Lola made a cup of tea and flicked through the pages of her Christmas cake order book and smiled with satisfaction. Freya had made a poster advertising them, which was stuck in the window of the café. Tristan had also taken a copy to put on the church noticeboard. There’d been a flurry of interest which had been matched by orders. With every Christmas cake order she placed in her book, Lola realised she was doing much more than just baking cakes. Every villager grew misty eyed as they reminisced about Christmases past; from beloved childhood presents to comical arguments over cracker toys, to the bittersweet family memories the season conjured up. Lola realised that her job was more than just cake baker, but to provide a trip down memory lane.
