‘No, I feel like I need some space to absorb tonight, it’s been a lot deeper than I expected. I also think it’s far too late to say to everyone that meditation and excess alcohol probably aren’t the best mix, but you know, I’m not one to be a killjoy.’ Lola studied the crowds who were still huddling around the fire, chatting, laughing, sipping their super-strength mulled wine. ‘It’s amazing to have created all this for everyone. It warms my heart.’
‘But I still can’t tempt you to the pub?’
‘No, my lovely, not tonight, I’m saving myself for my birthday.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
It took Lola another forty minutes to leave the beach due to everyone stopping her to comment on how relaxed they felt following the meditation and dropping hints that they’d like to repeat it sometime. Pleased she had another string to her bow, Lola didn’t mind leaving the party early. By the time she got back to her café the bonfire was just embers and being presided over by Angelo and Freya. As she unlocked the kitchen door, Lola smiled as she heard the singing that accompanied the revellers back to the pub. After flicking on the lights, Lola removed her coat, washed her hands and pulled on her apron. She had two cakes left to finish, the most important ones that she had saved until last. Alf’s and Tristan’s.
Humming along to the radio Lola set about covering the cakes in marzipan but not before she’d added an extra tot of brandy to Alf’s. The combined aromas of almonds and brandy warmed Lola’s heart, conjuring up happy memories of being with her grandmother. Ruby’s presence still lingered like woodsmoke and it had contributed to Lola eschewing the invitation to the pub; she hadn’t wanted the feeling of being close to her grandmother again to be wiped away by a gin and tonic or two, even though she knew Ruby would’ve approved of a double-strength one after a chill winter night on the beach. Lola suspected Ruby would have taken one sip of Steve’s lethal mulled wine and dished out advice as to how he could improve on it.
The thought of how well her grandmother would have settled into modern Polcarrow was stirring. Lola sensed her watching over her shoulder as she smoothed the icing onto the two cakes, making the top of Alf’s textured like choppy little waves. She’d found a plastic boat online and it was the perfect fit for the design she had in mind. Singing along to the radio, she crafted two figures from sugar paste; an old man dressed like Santa and a dog. She’d sit them in the boat and have little gift-shaped boxes strewn across the sea. It was a pleasure to make and Lola couldn’t wait to see Alf’s face when she lifted the lid on Christmas Eve. He’d specifically requested a Christmas Eve collection so he wouldn’t be tempted to eat the cake before the big day, although Lola had told him cake was for eating and not keeping.
Pleased with the result, Lola made herself a cup of tea and warmed a portion of the spiced butternut squash soup that had been going down a treat in the café that week. As she ate it, wiping out the bowl with thick granary bread, she stared at Tristan’s undecorated cake, sitting like a blank canvas on the kitchen island. It was important that she got this one right, that she somehow found a way of showing what he meant to her through sugar paste. No pressure, she reminded herself as she set about getting the cake ready.
Not wanting any distractions, Lola switched the radio off and allowed silence to settle over the kitchen. The icing on the top of the cake was almost set but Lola managed to swirl a path from the bottom left corner towards the top right. Reaching for her tools, she set about creating a tiny, delicate sugar paste replica of the church, complete with shimmering shells pressed into the mortar around the door, on which she placed a tiny red and green wreath. There was something therapeutic about decorating Tristan’s cake, about smoothing over the edges and making it beautiful, as if she was somehow paving the way for their future.
Carefully, Lola eased the church onto the cake, before adding a couple of plastic, snow-topped Christmas trees along the path. After dusting it with a little shimmer of silver, she stepped back and studied it. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever made. She hoped Tristan would like it. Tristan, who was currently sitting in the pub with his ex-girlfriend who was enthusiastically trying to get back together with him, when she should be the one sitting next to him, telling him she loved him.
Loved him? The thought stopped her dead as she carried the implements she’d used over to the dishwasher. No .?.?. she didn’t .?.?. did she? The L word had been bouncing around in the back of her mind for a while. Lola tried to wipe the thought away but it was written across her soul in permanent marker.
‘I love him.’ She tried the words out loud, giggling as she crammed them back in with her hands. ‘Oh gosh, I’m in love with Tristan!’ She whooped with joy as a smile broke across her face and she did a little shimmy. ‘I love him and I’ve left him to Anna,’ she gasped, panic rising in her throat as she stopped mid happy dance. Lola glanced around the kitchen, at all the decorating debris strewn across the counters. Why on earth hadn’t she just gone along for that gin and tonic and enjoyed Tristan’s company? She could almost hear Nannie Ruby tutting her disapproval.
Lola dumped the dishes haphazardly in the sink. Getting to the pub became the most urgent thing in the world. She’d physically haul Anna off him if need be. The washing-up could wait. Lola pulled her scarf and coat on over her sugar-dusted apron, pausing just long enough to reapply her signature red lipstick in the desperate hope that it was about to be passionately kissed off.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lola darted out of the kitchen and hurried along to the seafront. She’d go to the pub, she’d haul Tristan outside and tell him how she felt. Hell, she’d even pull the plug on the pub jukebox and spill it all with everyone listening. Now the truth had bubbled up there was no squashing it back down. She wanted to shout it to the world. Pulling her coat tighter around her, Lola ran along the harbour wall, only briefly cursing the fact she’d not stopped to pull her gloves on, when she ran smack bang into something tall and solid.
‘Woah! Slow down!’
Large hands closed around her arms, holding her firmly in place. Looking up, Lola’s eyes met with Tristan’s, as they both paused, the anticipation ignited like fireworks in her belly. Straightening up, he stepped back and let her go. Untethered, Lola tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and pressed her lips together. She took in everything about Tristan, the way the night stars twinkled in his eyes, the bit of hair that flopped over his forehead that she always itched to push back. The smile that was tugging at his lips. The way he looked at her as if she was the most precious, most beautiful thing on earth. It stilled her, centred her. The moment was so perfect Lola wanted to freeze it, encase in a snow globe so she could always tip it up and let the magic rain down upon the memory. As they studied each other, time slowed right down, like the world was waiting with bated breath to see what they did next.
‘What’s got you running along the seafront at this time of night?’ Tristan asked, amused, as if he already knew and was testing her. ‘I thought you’d be all tucked up at home.’
‘You,’ she said before she could change her mind. ‘You’ve got me running along the seafront at this time of night.’
‘Me?’ He feigned puzzlement as a smile spread across his face. As he stepped closer, he cupped Lola’s face in his hand. ‘Why me?’
Lola leaned into his touch, absorbed the comfort of it as the words fizzed like sherbet on her tongue. ‘Because .?.?.’ She paused and even though she was almost on tiptoes with anticipation she couldn’t resist asking, ‘Why areyourunning along the seafront at this time of night?’
Tristan laughed then grew serious. ‘Because of you.’
Lola stepped forward, sliding her hand up his arm until it came to rest on his shoulder. Anchoring herself to him, she slipped it around his neck, pulling him in close, stroking the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck. ‘Me? Why me?’ Lola echoed, bracing herself, all her nerves tingling as she waited to hear what she hoped to.
Tristan took her other hand, linked his fingers through hers. ‘Because, Lola, I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you from the moment I first saw you. That’s why. I couldn’t sit there with Anna any longer. I told her straight. I love you, Lola.’
Lola swallowed back the words. Time stopped. Tristan loved her. Hearing it was better than she’d expected. They were more than just the cherry on the top of the cake, they were a whole box of sprinkles and a dusting of glitter. She squeezed his hand back whilst planning on never, ever letting go. ‘Well, that’s quite handy,’ she began, ‘because the thing is, Tristan, I’ve realised I’m in love with you, too.’
A grin broke across his face and he let out a whoop of joy, before pulling her to him. ‘Does this mean we don’t have to take it slowly, or keep it from everyone anymore, because frankly, I’ve been struggling so much.’
‘No, I don’t think we should keep it to ourselves any longer,’ she said, ‘after all, romance is the extra sparkle on the Christmas cake.’
A smile broke out across his face before he closed the gap between them and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers like an invitation until she kissed him back. It was brandy and tinsel, fireworks and stardust all rolled into one. For Lola, it was absolutely perfect.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The day following the solstice ritual dawned crisp and bright, reminding the residents of Polcarrow that from now on the days would slowly grow longer, lighter. Lola’s alarm sounded through the still dark of the morning, rousing her and Tristan from a few snatched hours’ slumber. He groaned in complaint and Lola silenced him with kisses before getting up, jumping in the shower and getting ready for the day ahead. Even if she wasn’t quite ready to forget the blissful night they’d shared, her mind was already mentally compiling a to-do list.
