Lola had quickly backtracked into the kitchen when she’d discovered Freya and Tristan, heads together over the countertop, frantically whispering at each other. She knew she shouldn’t have, but Lola couldn’t resist standing behind the kitchen door, listening in to their plans for her birthday. Freya was in charge of balloons, banners and music and since Freya had discovered that Tristan had already successfully dipped his toe into baking, he had rather reluctantly been assigned birthday cake duties. The thought of her friends putting in the effort to plan a party for her touched Lola’s heart. She’d thought she’d found a community amongst all the people she’d travelled with, but they were nothing compared to what she’d found in Polcarrow. Sometimes being in the village felt like living in a huge hug.
Freya’s parents were all set for their visit, having booked the rooms above the pub, which meant Angelo was nervously trying to get Bayview House as presentable as possible. Having been up for a nose around, Lola and Tristan had kept to themselves the fact that Angelo would need a Christmas miracle of his own to make the house look like a cosy home and not a work in progress.
Lola eventually got round to sending out information about her solstice ritual and had asked everyone to bring along something to throw on the bonfire in the hope that they would have a big supply of wood. She wanted the bonfire to be spectacular, something for the village to gather around for quiet reflection before the shiny wrapped, beribboned festivities exploded over people’s lives. A moment of stillness for everyone to breathe, to just be.
Lola’s relationship with Alf had grown stronger. Far from dragging up Ruby and Charlie’s ill-fated romance dooming their friendship, it had cemented it. Two people they had loved had once loved one another enough to dream of a life together. The ice had broken on Alf’s refusal to discuss the past and he was suddenly regaling them over breakfast with tales from his youth, complete with the occasional sea shanty that Scruff tried to join in with. Villagers who had popped in for a take-away coffee or to collect a cake lingered to listen and some wove their tales in. Alf’s and Polcarrow’s fishing history was no longer just a ghost on the dawn tide.
Contentment settled over Lola. Every morning as she walked along the harbour to her café, she had an abundance of things to be thankful for. She ticked them off as she watched the light tentatively creeping along the horizon. Thankful for the friendships she had found, the fact that she was bringing joy to so many people with her Christmas cakes, that she was still friends with Alf, but above all, she was grateful for the love she had found. A love that was still very much wrapped in tissue paper and kept in a box, waiting to be opened. The word love seemed grand and big, terrifying but right. Lola kept hold of it knowing the four letters would change everything.
To distract herself, Lola busied herself with the café and ordering the ingredients for Christmas dinner, wondering if she should make a cheesecake rather than just the Christmas pudding. She picked up pencils and paper for the solstice ritual and scouted the beach for the best place to hold it. Excitement fizzed through her every time she thought about sharing the more spiritual side of her life with Polcarrow. All these activities were made even better by the fact Tristan accompanied her on them or lent a listening ear as she was thrashing out ideas, pointing out that maybe a mince pie cheesecake might be taking the festive theme a bit too far before kissing away any further discussion of the notion.
It seemed like nothing could disturb her bliss. It was late afternoon, the sun going down over the bay, leaving a trail of pink floating across the sea like rose petals. Having sent Freya home, Lola relaxed into the end-of-the-day ritual, wrapping the cakes, wiping down the coffee machine, the carols on the radio were playing low and soothing. Tristan was coming to meet her with a vague plan of trying another pub he’d read about, that he assured her had a sticky toffee pudding on the menu. They’d hatched a plan to travel around Cornwall rating them.
Lola was just thinking about closing early when the door opened and a young woman with impossibly golden blonde hair, wrapped in faux fur trimmed winter wear stepped into the café. She looked like something out of a magazine. Lola didn’t think she’d ever be able to keep that much cream wool clean.
‘Sorry, I know it’s late, but I’ve come a long way, you’re not closing are you?’ the woman apologised.
Unable to turn away a lonesome traveller, Lola flashed her a broad smile. ‘Of course not, take a seat. What can I get you?’
The woman peered into the counter, her eyes wide with indecision as she took in the selection. ‘There’s so much to choose from! Oh! Rocky road, I can never resist that. And a hot chocolate, please.’
‘Sure, take a seat,’ Lola said once the payment was through.
Lola got the order together as the woman made a beeline for the window seat with the sea view.
‘It’s beautiful here.’ She sighed at the sunset. ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes brightened as Lola set the treats down. ‘I have such a sweet tooth,’ she confessed before looking at Lola sheepishly. ‘Um, I saw in the window that you do tarot cards, how does that work? Can I have a reading?’ She put her phone down and smiled nervously. ‘I’m here to meet someone who was once very special to me. Oh, not here at the café, I’m just trying to calm my nerves before seeing him. I’m hoping things can go back to how they were.’
‘How lovely, I’m sure it’ll all be fine.’ Picking up the woman’s nerves and suddenly curious herself as to why she was so anxious, Lola replied, ‘I’ll just get my cards.’
When Lola emerged from the kitchen the hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and marshmallow snowmen was on the receiving end of a photoshoot and Lola hoped she’d be tagged in the social media photos.
‘Your café is so adorable,’ the woman gushed, ‘I love all this vintage cuteness. It’s so kitsch.’ She snapped a selfie before putting her phone down with a giggle.
‘Here’s the cards.’ Lola placed the box on the table, her own stomach suddenly lurching with a warning. She pushed it away and told the woman how much the reading would cost.
‘That’s fine. What do I do?’
Lola handed her the cards. ‘Shuffle them well. As you do, think of what questions you want answered. When you feel happy with what you’ve asked, make three piles.’ Lola sat down on the chair opposite her, watching as she squeezed her eyes shut and directed all her energy into silently asking the cards her questions.
The woman shuffled for a long time before opening her eyes and with a quick glance at Lola, created three piles on the table between them.
‘Which one do you feel most called to?’
She took a sip of her hot chocolate and studied the piles before tapping the middle one.
Lola took the other piles and placed them back in the box. For some reason the cards felt cumbersome in her hands, as if they didn’t want to reveal their secrets. Lola began to lay out the cards. ‘Yes, I can see you’ve travelled a long way. You’re at a crossroads in your life and have a big decision to make in regard to where you are going to live. You feel torn but are keen for something new. You’ve seen how moving away has had a positive effect on others in your circle and you’re keen to try it.’
‘Will it work?’ she gasped.
Lola laid down the next card. ‘It will if you move for the right reasons,’ she said vaguely, turning over the next card but getting no clearer answer. ‘Your destiny is in your hands.’
‘And what about my special person?’ The woman raised her eyebrows and leaned in. ‘Are we getting together?’
Lola dealt two more cards, a furrow across her brow. ‘You will reconnect with a past love, but the choice will be his. He’s expecting you but is unsure of a future between you. You will need to work to win him back.’
Her face fell. ‘But it’s not hopeless, is it?’
Lola fixed her with a look and laid down the next card, which gave nothing away. Instead Lola bluffed, ‘Nothing is ever hopeless.’
