The sound of knocking at the door roused her. Who on earth was calling at this time of night? Lola struggled up and glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Sugar! It was gone half past six, she was meant to be at the pub half an hour ago. The knock came again, more insistent this time. It clearly wasn’t Freya, as she had a key.
‘All right, all right, I’m coming,’ she called as she hurried down the hallway, pulling open the door to find Tristan standing there looking relieved that she’d answered.
‘We were getting worried you’d forgotten,’ he said.
Lola rolled her eyes. ‘As if I’d forget the first proper birthday party I’ve had in years! I just put my feet up for a bit and the next thing you know I’d drifted off. I need to freshen up. Come in, I can’t have you catching your death out there while I fix my makeup.’ She tugged him by the scarf, reeling him in for a kiss. Tristan kissed her back and for a few moments Lola wondered if they should just skip the party and stay in together. Then his phone started to ring. Lola stepped back with a sigh.
‘It’s Freya wondering where the guest of honour is.’
‘Tell her she’s too busy canoodling with the local vicar. Right, I’ll be five minutes.’ Lola smacked one last kiss on Tristan’s lips before rushing upstairs. In the bathroom she teased her victory rolls back into place, tidied up the smudged mascara and reapplied her red lipstick. Deciding that she loved her poinsettia print dress too much to swap it, she slipped into some heels and doused herself in perfume, before slinking back down the stairs, enjoying the way Tristan’s eyes widened at the sight of her.
‘Lola, you are stunning.’
Lola preened a bit before reminding him, ‘I’ve only added some heels to the dress I’ve had on all day but thank you.’
‘Well, then, I was remiss not to tell you earlier how stunning you looked. I was distracted by your amazing cake icing abilities.’ He pulled her in and gave her a quick kiss. ‘Come on, if we don’t get a move on Freya will be on our case.’
Pulling her coat and scarf back on, Lola followed Tristan outside, locked up and slipping her arm through his, they slowly wandered along the seafront towards the pub, slowing to a halt in front of the twinkling lobster pot Christmas tree. Around them the village glowed with the season.
‘Before I came here I never even knew places like this existed,’ Lola said. ‘Communities that actually care for each other. People like Alf. I never thought I’d find my forever home, somewhere to settle. I feel so lucky, I can’t imagine ever leaving here.’
Tristan squeezed her hand. ‘Me neither. I always worried I’d find Polcarrow too small or quiet after the city, but actually it’s been nice to slow down a bit.’ He smiled down at her. ‘And it’s brought us together. I don’t know how much I considered God having a grand plan for me, but it seems someone wanted us both to be here at the same time.’
‘Serendipity,’ Lola whispered and when his brow furrowed she added, ‘a happy accident. That, or Ruby’s work. Come on, we better get going or whatever happens next will not be all that happy.’ She leaned in to him. ‘I have to confess, I’m very curious to see what Freya has done. Also, about the cake.’ She raised her eyebrows.
Tristan pulled an anxious face. ‘I don’t want to get your hopes up too much but I was pretty pleased with how it turned out even if your chocolate cake this morning did make my confidence waver.’
‘Oooh! In that case, why are we lingering out here when there is cake to be had, come on.’ She tugged him towards the pub.
Lola pushed open the pub door and stepped inside to cheers, whoops of joy and a round of applause followed by a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. It was absolutely fabulous and she clapped her hands together in delight as she took it all in. The pub was decorated with blue balloons and ‘Happy Birthday’ banners hung from the old beams. A buffet was set out on a table in the corner and it looked as if the whole village had turned up – even Scruff was getting in on the action, barking along to the singing.
Lola wiped away some tears and bundled Freya into a hug. ‘This is fantastic, thank you so much.’
‘And not a Christmas tune in, erm, hearing. Happy birthday, Lola.’ Freya squeezed her back. ‘I really hope you enjoy tonight.’
‘I’m sure I will, it looks fabulous, you’ve done a great job. I’m dying to try Tristan’s cake.’
‘You are going to have to do some circulating first, the grand cake reveal is scheduled for a bit later. That man would literally do anything for you and he’s also managed to impress Mum and I with it.’ Freya nodded in his direction.
Lola followed her gaze to where Tristan was showing off his Christmas jumper to Sue and Jan. His eyes caught with Lola’s and he beamed back at her, which made her insides roll over with happiness. If the village hadn’t cottoned on to their romance before now then by the end of the night it surely would no longer be a secret.
‘He’s more than I ever expected to find, he’s absolutely wonderful.’ Lola gave her friend a squeeze and turned to place her order with Steve. ‘A glass of Prosecco please. Freya, what are you having?’
‘The same.’
Steve gave Lola a once-over. ‘What’s your secret, you don’t look a day over thirty.’
Shimmering with happiness at his compliment, Lola leaned over the bar and whispered, ‘I couldn’t possibly tell you that, but let’s just say a little sprinkling of magic always helps.’
Laughing, Steve plonked a bottle of Prosecco on the bar. ‘On the house, my lovely. We don’t get to celebrate many big birthdays around here. Although apparently Alf turns ninety next year.’
‘He may have mentioned it.’ Lola winked. ‘I don’t think we can let him get away without a fuss, can we?’
‘I don’t think you’ll have a hard time convincing him to have a party,’ Steve pointed out as he passed her two glasses. ‘Look at him.’
Alf was sitting by the fire, Scruff at his feet. Someone was playing a fiddle and he was singing along, entertaining his small audience with the sea shanties he grew up with. If anyone deserved a fuss then it was Alf. Lola turned back to the bar and poured Prosecco into the two flutes and passed one to Freya.
‘Here’s a toast to an unbelievable year.’
