The Love Island Bookshop Kate Frost (best ereader for pdf and epub .TXT) 📖

to see a new face round here. I’m Aaron.’ He shook her hand and sat down with a mug of coffee.

Freya swallowed her mouthful of scrambled eggs. ‘Freya.’

‘Let me guess, the bookseller.’

‘I am indeed.’

Aaron was dark skinned like he had Maldivian heritage, but his accent was more Scandinavian. He had dark hair that looked bleached by the sun in places, chocolate-brown eyes, and a chiselled jaw covered in stubble. It was a face that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the front cover of a magazine.

Freya dabbed the sides of her mouth with a napkin. ‘What do you do?’

‘Dive instructor.’ He pointed to where Loabi Fushi Dive School was emblazoned on his beige T-shirt.

‘I imagine that’s a good job to have.’

‘I can’t complain.’

Freya laid her knife and fork on her plate and downed the rest of her glass of water. ‘Well, I’m about to meet Meena at the Sand Bar. She’s going to show me the bookshop.’

‘And I’m about to go and teach a guest to scuba dive. The Sand Bar isn’t far from the dive school if you’d like to walk together?’

‘That’ll be lovely.’ Freya stood up. ‘I’m ready. It feels like I don’t need to take anything with me. Back home I seem to take an awful lot on my commute to work, but here...’

‘You travel light. Sunscreen and a hat are about all you need.’

She hadn’t quite embraced the barefoot policy yet. She would be working, not relaxing or strolling along a beach. Flip-flops seemed the most sensible choice, and she noticed that Aaron was wearing a pair of white trainers and olive green board shorts with his dive school T-shirt.

He led the way, giving her time to deposit her tray on the counter before they left the staff village, and took the path that cut behind the back of the women’s block.

‘So, you’re British?’ Aaron asked as they joined the main path that wound through the centre of the island.

‘Yeah, I lived and worked in London, so this is quite a change. How about you? Where’s home when you’re not here?’

‘My mum’s Maldivian and lives on an island in the Southern Atoll, so I spend most of my time there when I’m not working. My dad’s British and is currently UK Ambassador in Ghana but used to be the High Commissioner in Sri Lanka. That’s where he met my mum.’

‘Your parents aren’t together anymore?’

‘Oh, they are, believe it or not. My dad is stubborn and refuses to retire and my mum is just as stubborn and refused to move with him to Ghana. They were in the Seychelles until three years ago. Mum came back here and Dad went to Ghana. My mum has grandchildren and she likes the simplicity of island life.’

And Freya thought her own family were spread all over the place. ‘Well, I’ve only been in the Maldives a couple of days, and I already know it must be a hard place to leave. I’m not surprised your mum wanted to return.’

As they walked, Freya noticed narrow sandy paths occasionally splitting off from the main one, signed with villa numbers etched into the wood. She had yet to see any of the beachfront villas, which were well hidden among the lush undergrowth. It felt exclusive and magical, a private pathway cutting through the densely packed trees.

‘You haven’t always lived in the Maldives then?’ Freya asked.

‘No, not at all. We only came back here for holidays when I was growing up. Dad got posted all over the place. We were in Finland for five years when I was in my teens – that was the longest we stayed anywhere. Mum hated the cold and I can’t say I was too keen either. Then we moved to India. That’s when I left home and spent the next couple of years working and travelling before spending time with them in the Seychelles and heading back here.’

‘Wow, it makes me only having lived and worked in London pretty boring.’

‘You’ve never travelled?’

‘I did for six months straight after uni, partly to see my parents. The moment I went to university they emigrated to New Zealand, so after graduating I went to visit them. We toured the two islands together in a camper van and then I went on to Australia and Thailand. Then it was back to London and into a publishing job.’

‘Everyone’s lives are different. There were lots of positives about the way I grew up and the way we lived, but not sticking in one place for very long sometimes made life difficult too.’ His voice was smooth and lilting and his English perfect.

They reached the main hub of the island where the path split in different directions. Aaron took the path that was signposted ‘staff only’.

‘This way avoids the main guest areas.’

They went through a dense tunnel of trees and past a two-storey wood-clad building that Freya assumed was the forest hideaway Meena had talked about. They emerged into sunshine on to a sweeping beach. Freya got her first glimpse of the beach villas appearing from the lush greenness of ficus and palms. Their cream stone walls and pale sand-coloured reed roofs merged with their surroundings.

A couple were lying on sunloungers beneath a thatched umbrella with cocktails on a table. It wasn’t even ten, but Freya guessed cocktails were allowed at any time when you were on a holiday of a lifetime. They were the first guests she’d actually seen since arriving.

They walked along the edge of the beach, just a short way from where the water caressed the sand and bubbled back into the shallows.

‘So how do you feel about being the one to get “the best job in the world”?’

Freya glanced at Aaron. ‘I imagine lots of people’s jobs on this island could be described as that.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. The love island bookseller has quite a ring to it. How about I ask you in a few days’ time.’

‘Sounds a good idea. I haven’t even seen the place yet.’

‘You’re in for