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person to run the bookshop on an island where staff outnumbered guests. There must be loads of waiters, chambermaids, bar staff, butlers, chefs, even dive instructors and spa staff. There were probably even staff to look after the staff, but only one person to run the bookshop. The pressure was mounting. She was fully qualified for the job, and yet the further she got from home, the more she doubted herself.

Chapter Six

The path split again, signposted one way to ‘sunset beach + bookshop’ and the other way to the ‘staff village’. Screened by trees, a building loomed up ahead, taller than anything else on the island but still well below the treetops. Clad in wood, with a tiled roof, the staff accommodation surrounded a courtyard on three sides. Dark grey tables and chairs filled the outside space and a few staff were eating lunch, most of them dressed in the practical island uniform of sand-coloured shorts or skirts and gleaming white linen short-sleeved tops.

‘I told you it wasn’t bad.’ Meena winked. ‘The bit of sand you can see through the trees is the staff beach – it’s the only stretch on the island though where you can sunbathe or go swimming. During your downtime of course. The staff restaurant is open for breakfast, lunch and dinner and is staffed by its own staff.’

‘It’s like a small town.’

‘It really is. A village on a luxury island. Living, working, sleeping, playing – everything happens here. It’s tucked out of the way, and of course the guests have priority over everything. It is however a decent size and I think you’ll find it more than adequate and very comfortable.’

They walked along the edge of the landscaped courtyard where flowers bloomed and lemon trees brightened the slate paving. They reached a door and Meena entered a pin-code.

‘So, as you can see, the building in the middle that opens out to the courtyard houses the staff restaurant. There’s also a lounge above it with a pool table – it’s a place to read or watch a bit of TV if you wish to. Then there are these two blocks; one for men, this one for women.’ Meena led the way inside. It was immediately cooler out of the blazing midday sun. ‘It’s split into apartments. Everyone has a private room but bathrooms are shared, although only four staff to one so it’s not too bad. A rota system for showers tends to be organised if everyone starts work at the same time. There’s air-con too. We’ve put you in an apartment with Drew – she’s also British and has been here for a little over a year. Most staff will be working at the moment, but you’ll meet her later.’

They took the stairs to the second floor; the walls were white and it felt more spacious and airier higher up.

‘As well as having four bedrooms and a bathroom, each apartment has a small kitchen too. Enough space to make yourself a bit of breakfast or a sandwich if you don’t want to go to the staff restaurant.’ Meena pushed open the door to the apartment at the end of the corridor and let Freya go in first. She indicated to a room with the door wedged open. ‘And this is your room. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to leave you to settle in. Explore the place this afternoon. I’m sure you’ll meet the other girls who live here. If you want some lunch, grab something from the staff restaurant and the same for dinner later. Drew will be back by six and she’s going to show you around. Then meet me at nine tomorrow at the Sand Bar and I’ll show you the bookshop.’

Meena left her with a smile and a business card with her number on it. Her sandals slapped against the tiled floor as she retreated along the corridor.

Freya shrugged the rucksack off and dumped it on the floor, relieved to get it off her hot aching shoulders. The room was compact but reasonably cool with a ceiling fan whizzing. The walls were white but a picture of an ocean scene with coral teeming with fish hung above the bed, and she had a small desk and a wardrobe. The window was large and opened fully, overlooking the communal courtyard. Trees surrounded the staff village and she could just make out patches of sand beyond. There had been so many what-ifs by giving up her job back home and taking a chance on a dream. Sadness and disappointment had been woven through her life for too long; whatever the next few months would hold, it was an opportunity she’d needed. A chance to start anew in a place that didn’t hold memories good or bad. New job, new country, new people. It was a blank slate and had to be better and more hopeful than the last couple of years. It had to be. A barefoot bookshop on a tropical island would hopefully prove that.

~

Freya unpacked and then spent the afternoon exploring the staff village and the sweeping beach in front of the accommodation. She walked along the edge of the ocean, her bare feet lapped by the warm water as they sunk into the sand. The lightest of breezes drifted in. With her back to the treeline there was nothing else apart from sea and sky, not even another island. It was mad to think she was standing on a tiny dot of land in the middle of the Indian Ocean hundreds of miles from anywhere. She’d already lost track of the days and couldn’t work out what time it would be back in the UK, let alone New Zealand. She’d texted her parents when she’d landed and she’d email them in a couple of days. They were quite used to her getting on with her own life, much the same as she was used to them doing their own thing too. It would be friends she’d miss the most,

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