The Love Island Bookshop

by Kate Frost

  The trees thinned and the path opened out on to the clearing and the wood-clad wall of the bookshop. Sunshine slipped through from the leafy canopy and as Freya rounded the side of the bookshop, she got her first glimpse of the ocean that day. She glanced at her watch. It had only taken ten minutes to stroll here. Excitement had overtaken the nerves from the day before. She had a whole day to herself to get set up. And when she thought about it, she didn’t actually mind being on her own. She might have left the UK behind conscious of how lonely she’d been, but somehow she craved the peace here. It was a different sort of solitude, one not wrapped in sorrow.

  Freya started the day by unpacking the boxes of books and planning the shelf space, placing books in alphabetical order but also giving each area of the shop a designated theme, splitting it into non-fiction, fiction, and travel. Zander had an eclectic taste with a mix of classics, literary fiction, crime thrillers and historical novels, along with a good dose of nature and travel inspired books, but at least seeing his choice gave her an idea of how to balance what she’d want to order with what he might approve of. The pale driftwood shelves slowly began to fill with colourful spines, turning the place from a beautiful but empty shell into a dream space. The place began to smell like a bookshop too, and even though it was new, it felt familiar and comfortable to be surrounded by so many books. Ever since she was little, libraries and bookshops had always been her happy place, and it was the same working in publishing, her desk always had a stack of paperbacks on it and a manuscript or two waiting to be read. There was something so very exciting about not knowing if she was about to discover a brand new voice and launch someone’s career.

  Freya took a break and went outside. The air smouldered with the midday heat. The trees surrounding the bookshop gave a little respite from the sun, partially shading the sunken deck. She walked across it, mentally ticking off the ideas she’d had about the events that could be held: a book club or a visiting author, ideas that had already been flagged within the email communication before she’d arrived.

  Beyond the palms that separated the bookshop clearing from the beach, the white sand was empty. It was a magical view that took her breath away. Maybe she could talk to Zander about setting up sunloungers on the beach to encourage guests to use it as a private reading spot. However much she liked the idea of keeping the place to herself, it wasn’t why she was here, and it wasn’t like she could use it to sunbathe. Taking a break and having a walk was one thing, but this place was for the guests – everything on the island was tailored for their comfort and enjoyment, that much was obvious, and she was now a part of that. Brimming with ideas, Freya headed back to the welcome coolness of the bookshop, opened up the laptop and started writing them down.

  ~

  Apart from spotting a couple walking hand in hand along the edge of the shore, Freya managed to go the whole day without seeing anyone. She’d finished unpacking the books and had made a plan, so the last thing to do before going back to the staff village was to clear away the empty boxes. Hidden among the trees to the rear of the shop was a fenced-in area containing refuse and recycling bins and a fire hydrant. It was camouflaged by wooden fencing and the surrounding undergrowth and she only knew it was there because Meena had been thorough about showing her everything. She stacked the folded wooden boxes in the recycling bin and locked the door to the area behind her.

  It was only five-thirty but it felt much later because the sun was already beginning to set. A wash of silvery pink streaked across the darkening sky. Freya paused before leaving the clearing. It hardly felt like she’d done a day’s work, the experience was so completely different to a working day back home.

  After the peace of the bookshop, it was a shock to reach the hubbub of the staff village. She passed a couple of staff on the path, neatly dressed in their smart deep-blue or beige linen uniform. While she was done for the day, they were on their way to work. The solar lights surrounding the courtyard were on and the glossy green leaves of the ficus and cheese plants glowed in the light.

  Footsteps padded behind her.

  ‘Hey, Freya,’ Aaron said, as he caught up with her. ‘You finished for the day?’

  His hair was damp, and his T-shirt clung to his chest. She thought her job was great, and yet he spent his day scuba diving and exploring the house reef.

  ‘Yep, can pretty much choose my own hours at the moment. I haven’t quite got used to it getting dark so early yet.’

  He matched her pace. ‘You will. I like it. I get to wind down for the day before dusk.’

  ‘I guess the flip side is early starts.’

  He wrinkled his nose. ‘Not that much of a problem here. The rooms are hardly conducive to having a lie in.’

  The courtyard was already buzzing with staff eating, some in uniform on a break, a couple of others having finished for the day.

  Aaron turned to Freya. ‘Fancy joining me for dinner?’

  ‘Yeah, that’ll be nice.’

  ‘I’m just going to dive in the shower. Meet you back out here in ten?’

  ‘Okay, great.’

  Freya went up to her room. No one else was back yet so it was good to have dinner with Aaron. She didn’t fancy eating on her own and introducing herself to new people felt a little stressful. She needed to make friends though – once the bookshop opened, even if she ended up working into the evening because of events, she’d have more free time here than back home. With no commute plus a big break in the middle of the day she had plenty of time to grab some lunch, relax, read or work on the laptop. The time was hers to manage. She was looking forward to reading purely for pleasure again. And there was the bookshop blog to keep up to date with, a twice-weekly post that she’d already decided would have one book focused, and the other one about the island and her working in a unique environment. She already knew that Zander wanted her to keep it personal. As he’d told her, she was the face of the bookshop and getting to know her as well as the shop itself, was important.

  She met Aaron back outside and they sat at a table with two of the other dive instructors, another local and a guy from South Africa. She listened to them chat about their day – the South African had taken someone out for their first scuba diving lesson, while Aaron had been out with a couple who had been diving for years. Freya listened as Aaron described the reef, diving down and swimming just above the corals to spot butterflyfish, the colourful humphead wrasse, the large groupers that Freya wasn’t too sure she wanted to get that close to, sea turtles and rays.

  Aaron turned to Freya. ‘Have you ever been scuba diving?’

  ‘No, not even when I went travelling after uni – I did go snorkelling in Thailand. I had a stopover on another island before coming here and snorkelled. Would love to do that again.’

  ‘Next day off, I’ll take you out on the bit of reef off the staff beach.’

  ‘Okay, that’s a deal.’

  ‘It’s the other side of the island that we take guests out on; every part of the lagoon is magical, but the reef just off the beach by the dive school is amazing. It goes out really far and then just drops off. It’s this coral cliff teeming with fish and colour and then nothing. Guests either love it or hate it, but it’s quite something looking out to just deep, dark ocean.’

  ‘Sounds terrifying.’

  Aaron laughed. ‘It’s a bit of a rush. The bit off the staff beach is pretty tame, nice and shallow – you can see a lot, we’re really lucky we have that option here.’ He scooped rice on to his fork. Aaron’s two colleagues were talking together so Aaron’s attention was solely on her. ‘Apart from Thailand, you said you also went to New Zealand?’

  ‘Yes, to see my parents.’

  ‘That’s where they still live?’

  ‘Yep, they emigrated there when I went to university.’

  ‘So, what, they sold up and completely left?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘And you were at university in the UK, right?’

  Freya nodded. ‘Other
people find it mad that they could leave me and move halfway across the world, but it didn’t come as a shock to me. They’d wanted to leave the UK for years, but felt quite strongly that it wouldn’t be fair to interrupt my life and education. We talked about it loads and I could have gone with them and gone to university in New Zealand, but I didn’t want to. By that time I was old enough to make my own decisions.’

  ‘Still, that’s quite something when you’re only eighteen. It’s just you, no brothers or sisters?’

  ‘I have a brother. He’s twelve years older so there’s quite a difference. I pretty much felt like an only child.’

  ‘Did you stay with him during holidays?’

  ‘Occasionally, usually at Christmas. He lives in France with his family so it wasn’t actually that easy to pop back that often.’

  ‘So where did you go?’

  ‘I stayed with my best friend. Her family are lovely; I was lucky to have them.’

  ‘So, they’re kind of like your second family.’

  ‘Yeah, something like that.’ She stabbed her fork into a potato. She found it strange talking about her life with someone she’d only just met. It had been a long time since she’d been in a position of getting to know someone new. ‘So, what do people do here in the evenings?’

  ‘Most people work, but if they’re lucky like us and get the majority of evenings off, then we sometimes take a drink down to the beach, sit and chat. There’s a fire pit down there. You can sit out here in the courtyard but it’s an unwritten rule for people to keep the noise down after ten – for all the unlucky souls who have to start work before dawn.’

  Aaron was easy to talk to, the same as Drew, but his good looks weren’t lost on her either, with his dark brooding eyes and an obvious sporty physique beneath his T-shirt and shorts. She realised she was staring at him quite a lot. She’d been on her own for too long; she was glad of the distraction of an easy-going man who didn’t really know her. It felt good to have left the heartache of the past eighteen months behind. She wanted to look to the future in a place that was full of optimism and joy.

  Chapter Ten

  Freya had settled into a false sense of security, enjoying her own company and working at the bookshop by herself. It had only been a couple of days, but she knew Zander would be coming back and she felt the pressure of needing to get things right for when he returned.

  Meena’s email that morning did nothing to settle her nerves.

  Morning, Freya. I hope you’re settling in well and your first couple of days in the bookshop have gone smoothly. I popped in to see it yesterday evening and you’ve done a tremendous job organising the books. Zander’s back and will meet you at the bookshop later. He’s also arranged for the photo shoot to happen this afternoon. Please choose what you wear carefully, ideally Loabi Fushi colours – white, sand-colour, blues. Pastel colours work well too and keep in mind the ethos of the island, sophisticated luxury. Any questions you can get hold of me in the office. Meena.

  Freya’s wardrobe was limited to what she’d been able to fit in her suitcase, and she wasn’t really sure how she could look sophisticated in her summer clothes that mostly consisted of sleeveless tops, shorts and cropped trousers. She pulled out her white maxi skirt and a strapless dusky pink top that she’d only thrown in on the off chance she needed to dress up a little more in the evening.

  Drew whistled when Freya entered the kitchen. ‘Look at you.’

  Freya wrinkled her nose. ‘I’ve got to have my photo taken to go on the website.’

  ‘Zander’s back then?’

  Freya frowned.

  ‘He kinda micromanages the photo shoots, so I assume if you’ve got yours today, he’s back. He likes a certain look to everything. He had a model flown in to pose in the spa – you pretty much can only see my hands or the back of my head in the shots, but the photos are epic. She was like a supermodel, though. Let’s just say, it helps if you’re photogenic, and trust me, you’re going to kill it today.’

  Once again, Freya’s opinion of Zander was that he was all looks and no substance. Even with Drew’s compliment fresh in her mind she was worried. She scrutinised herself in the mirror in her room. She’d already caught a tan; her shoulders and face were sun kissed, her caramel brown hair had lighter highlights. She left it loose and falling in waves around her shoulders, a tousled natural beach look that she’d always craved but just didn’t work during humid summers in London or when it was cold and miserable in winter. The look suited her. She swept her fringe from her eyes and decided to add mascara and lip balm and she was done. She was too nervous to eat much breakfast, so she just had a slice of toast in the shared kitchen and said goodbye to Drew.

  The staff village was at its busiest in the morning and then again around dinner time; it ebbed and flowed during the day, and there was always someone around. After her often lonely existence back home, part of her craved being surrounded by people, and having the chance to make friends like Drew and Aaron.

  Freya was relieved that Zander wasn’t at the bookshop yet. She relaxed into the morning, choosing a selection of books to go on one of the tables and making a list of books that she thought might fill the gaps in the shelves – the bookshop was short on uplifting women’s fiction, the type of books and authors she had on her list at Bloom & Cole. Zander’s taste was wide reaching, but she wanted to balance out the fiction section, which was heavy on literary novels and crime thrillers. When she got a text from Meena that Zander and the photographer would be with her at half two, she returned to the staff village to grab a light lunch, clean her teeth and check she still looked presentable.

  ~

  Freya was perched on a stool with her laptop by the open window in the bookshop when she spotted Zander strolling with a tall bronzed woman with long grey hair. She was dressed in white, clasping a camera. Zander was wearing sand-coloured trousers and a white linen shirt and looked effortlessly cool. They stopped in the shade of the curved palm on the beach and chatted. Freya wasn’t sure what to do – go down and meet them or wait for them to come up. Her fingers hovered over the laptop; she couldn’t concentrate.

  The woman seemed to be doing most of the talking. She waved her arms towards the ocean and then turned and looked the other way in the direction of Sunset Beach. Zander nodded and they turned and started walking up the path beneath the trees. Freya closed the laptop and slid off the stool.

  ‘Hello,’ she said as they entered the bookshop.

  ‘You’ve made a real start.’ Zander smiled at Freya and ran his hand along the spines of the books on the shelf by the door. ‘This looks fabulous. And the smell. It has that new book smell. You can’t beat it.’

  ‘Apart from that fresh ocean air outside.’ The woman laughed. ‘If I didn’t know you better, Zander, I’d say you were a nutter preferring this.’

  The woman was obviously at ease in his presence and knew him well. She evoked confidence and commanded attention. She was vaguely familiar, with striking cheekbones and little make-up, someone Freya felt she should know. She was also British but had an accent that was hard to place, much like Zander’s and Aaron’s. Freya thought that she was probably well travelled.

  ‘Freya, this is Annie Blake-Anderson, she’ll be photographing you today. She used to work for Vogue and has photographed some of the biggest names in fashion; you’ll be in good hands.’

  On hearing her name, Freya realised why she looked familiar. The nerves she’d felt at the mention of a photo shoot that morning was nothing compared to how she was feeling now. Her palms started sweating and she was beginning to wish she’d skipped lunch.

  ‘Gorgeous.’ Annie lifted Freya’s chin and studied her. ‘Well, you’re going to make my job a lot easier today. Have you ever modelled?’

  ‘Um, no, never. I mean nothing beyond having my photo taken for work or at an event.’

  ‘Freya worked as an editor for Bloom & Cole back in the UK,’ Zander said, leaning on the edge of the counter.

&nb
sp; ‘Oh, I know Esther; we go way back. Not much cause for photo shoots there I suppose, although I’ve photographed Mia Jacobsen – she’s with Bloom & Cole, no?’

  ‘Yes, she’s one of their main clients. I didn’t work directly with her. My list was quite new, you know, up and coming authors.’

  ‘She writes killer crime thrillers – excuse the pun.’ Annie smiled as she stood back and studied Freya. ‘Right, I think we’ll start off in here then move to the beach.’

  At least it was cool in the bookshop with the air conditioning on. She wasn’t against taking selfies, she had plenty of them on her social media, but she was in control of which ones she published and which filter to use. She told herself there was no way that Zander would have any images gracing the Loabi Fushi website that weren’t perfect. As she perched on the stool behind the counter with a copy of Alex Garland’s The Beach in her hand, she took a deep breath. Annie started clicking away, angling a lamp and a reflective sheet to get the best light and every so often giving Freya notes to ‘lift your chin’, ‘look slightly down’, ‘open your lips a touch’. Freya did as she was told, relaxing into the shoot as Annie moved her to a stool in front of the open window. She rested her chin on her hands and gazed out at the view with a tower of books curated by Zander piled next to her, while Annie snapped the shot from outside.

  Zander was mostly a silent bystander, but Freya noticed Annie checking in with him before each shot. By late afternoon they took the shoot outside. The golden sun was a little lower in the sky and cast a soft, magical light across the beach.

  The trees and the bookshop were the backdrop to begin with and Freya actually enjoyed herself. Annie manoeuvred Freya beneath a palm tree and got her to lean against it, the sole of one foot resting against the rough trunk, The Great Gatsby clasped to her chest. She gazed up into the leafy fronds above. It was an uncomfortable position to hold for too long, but the pose felt like something out of a fashion shoot and she imagined how it must look, with the bright white sand, the earthy tones of the tree trunks and the glimpse of the bookshop behind.