Freya chinked her glass against Lola’s and took a sip. ‘Hopefully with a few more unbelievable things left to happen.’ She nodded over Lola’s shoulder to where Tristan was hovering. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ She departed with a squeeze of Lola’s hand.
‘Showing off your new jumper? I hope you’re not pretending I managed to knit it,’ she asked as she sipped her drink.
‘Sue was very impressed. I did have her fooled for a moment.’
Lola reached out and stroked his arm. ‘You’ll get me banned from the Women’s Institute if you carry on like that. Isn’t there something in the Bible about not lying?’ she teased.
‘Hmm, maybe, but it was just too tempting. Do you have a Christmas jumper?’
Lola shook her head. ‘Very remiss of me, isn’t it.’
‘I’m sure it’s forgivable. I have something for you, I meant to give it to you when I came to collect you, but I got distracted.’ Putting his glass down, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small green box.
Lola’s eyes widened as she took in the shape and size. Surely not . . . ? She didn’t know if it was panic or excitement that flashed through her, but she managed to quell them both.
‘Sorry I didn’t get time to wrap it, but, here, Happy birthday, Lola.’ With a quick kiss on the cheek he passed her the box.
She glanced up at him as she made a show of slowly opening the lid only to gasp in delight at the box’s contents. Lola gasped, her eyes flickering from the contents to him and back again. Nestled on the black velvet was a pair of sparkling star-shaped earrings. ‘Oh Tristan, they are beautiful.’
‘I have to confess they’re not real diamonds, but they are vintage.’
‘It doesn’t matter, they are perfect. Here.’ She pressed the box into his hand. ‘Let me put them on.’ Lola quickly fastened them before turning her head left to right. ‘What do you think?’
‘Absolutely beautiful,’ Tristan said, his voice full of wonder, ‘the earrings and you.’
Lola stepped towards him. ‘What have I done to deserve someone as adorable as you?’ Suddenly it didn’t matter that they were in a pub full of people on Christmas Eve, that everyone was jostling to get to the bar, or singing along with the eighties pop classics Steve was playing, all that mattered was that they were here together. Lola glanced down at her hands held in Tristan’s and knew she never wanted to let him go. Who cared if the whole village knew?
As they stepped towards each other, the bar bell began to ring. Lola threw Steve a questioning look.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not last orders, Freya’s just got something up her sleeve.’
‘Ooh!’ Lola wiggled free of Tristan. Taking his hand, she pulled him forward through the crowded pub.
A cheer went up as Freya exited the kitchen, balancing a cake ablaze with candles in her hands, and the singing started up again. It was the most raucous rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ Lola had ever heard.
‘Is that your handiwork? Three tiers? I am impressed. It looks fabulous!’ She squeezed Tristan to her.
‘Yes, but I left the decorating to Freya.’ The cake was adorned with pink roses and a golden ‘Happy Birthday’ topper which sparkled in the candlelight.
‘Don’t be so modest, it looks amazing, I cannot wait for a slice,’ Lola said as she stepped in the direction of the cake. ‘Freya! Are you trying to burn the place down?’ Lola laughed as she blew on a stubborn candle. A round of applause went up and Lola glanced around, revelling in the moment. She began to slice the cake and realised she was ridiculously happy and surrounded by more love than she ever believed she’d find. Someone called out for a speech.
‘All right, all right.’ Lola licked buttercream off her finger from where it had oozed onto her hand when she’d started to cut the cake. Someone turned the jukebox down. ‘Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight. It’s not every day a girl turns forty and you’ve made it all feel so fabulous.’ Lola glanced around the pub at everyone looking back at her fondly. ‘You’ve made me feel so welcome here, it’s been more than I expected and I have a whole host of treats up my sleeve for the new year. Thank you, Freya, for organising me such a lovely party.’ She paused so Freya could receive a round of applause. ‘And thank you, Tristan, for, well, just being your wonderful self and for being brave enough to bake me this cake.’ Another round of applause, which was accompanied by some whisperings. ‘Now, I think I’ve said enough, who wants some cake?’
The question was met by an enthusiastic cheer.
Chapter Forty-Two
It was no hardship for Lola to get up early on Christmas morning to do the Christmas dinner prep as she’d been awake half the night reliving the party and fizzing with excitement for Christmas Day. Tristan had ducked out of the party early to head for the more solemn calling of Midnight Mass. It had still been taking place, the church windows glowing with gentle candlelight, as Lola had strolled home, happily full of prosecco and cake. She’d loitered, wondering if she could slip in at the back, pay witness to the service he confessed he’d always loved. In the end, tiredness had swept over her, and the chill winter air had sent her scurrying for the cosiness of her duvet. She was tired, her emotions all over the place and she was fuzzy around the edges from all the glasses of Prosecco she’d been passed. She’d wait until morning. They would have plenty of time together after Christmas. Plus her feet had been freezing lingering in the chill December air.
Dressed in her festive poinsettia dress again, the star-shaped earrings twinkling in her ears, Lola busied herself in the café kitchen peeling potatoes, carrots, parsnips and getting the sprouts ready. The turkey had been delivered the previous morning and she had whipped up the stuffing the previous afternoon in-between customers. Happiness buzzed through her; this is what she loved, cooking for people, feeding families and creating special moments. After covering the massive turkey in foil, she placed it in the oven, knowing it would take several hours to roast.
As she retrieved the Christmas pudding from the top shelf, memories of the day they’d all come together to stir in their wishes flooded through her. It was more than just a pudding, she thought, as she placed it in the steamer, it was symbolic of the little family she had gathered together in Cornwall and she couldn’t wait to share the day with them. Having made herself a cup of tea and a slice of toast, Lola opened the kitchen door and stepped into the courtyard. The sky was a pale, soft grey after days of winter sunshine. Leaning back, she listened to the gulls calling to each other and thought about Polcarrow waking up for Christmas, the children eating chocolate for breakfast whilst opening their presents, the glasses of Buck’s Fizz sipped by harried parents as they tried to smooth over the days frantic preparation.
Her mind wandered to Tristan getting ready for one of the biggest days in the church’s calendar. He was the biggest gift of her year. It wasn’t just the breathless kisses or the physical attraction, but the companionship and friendship. Thinking about Tristan warmed her up from the inside. He made her feel she could take on anything, that she no longer had to weather life alone. Lola knew it was exactly the sort of love her grandmother had wanted her to find – safe and secure, not wild and untamed. Lola crossed her fingers and hoped it’d last forever. That they’d grow old together, shuffling along the seafront. Having Tristan by her side made the future feel slightly less daunting.
The service was due to start at half past ten. Lola had arranged to meet Freya, Angelo and Freya’s family at quarter past. Lola finished her breakfast and checked herself in the mirror, applied a bit of concealer under her eyes and touched up her lipstick. Coat on, scarf wrapped warm around her neck, Lola left the café and made her way to the lobster pot Christmas Tree, where they’d all agreed to meet. Her stomach churned with nerves; a proper church service was a totally different commitment from singing along to Christmas carols.
Surprised to see them already waiting for her, Lola kissed Freya and Angelo in turn. ‘Merry Christmas, my lovelies.’
