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

mum grew up,’ Aaron said. ‘She moved to Sri Lanka when she was twenty to work and it was where she met my dad. I grew up all over the place, but we came back here often. When I think of home, I now think of here. It’s where our roots are.’

Freya followed him off the main path and along a narrow one that headed in the direction of the beach. The idea of putting down roots somewhere seemed alien to her. London had never really felt like home, and her parents had sold the house she’d grown up in as soon as they left for their new life in New Zealand. There was never anywhere familiar for her to go back to.

The path led to a beach with upturned boats wedged in the sand. In the other direction though, the long stretch of white beach backed by trees easily rivalled any of the beaches on Loabi Fushi. It was a gem of an island, but one that was lived on, with people working hard while looking after their families, schooling children and making a living by encouraging tourists to see a different side to the Maldives.

‘I’m taking you the picturesque way,’ Aaron said.

They left the beach and took a path between two large palms that cast long shadows across the sand. The building in front of them was a large but simple structure painted a sunny yellow. It was on the edge of the village, a prime position right next to the beach.

They went through an archway and into an enclosed tropical garden. Parched grass struggled to grow but the borders were filled with tropical plants and the many colourful red flowers of beach hibiscus.

‘So, your mum’s turned it into a hotel?’

‘She likes to keep busy, plus when Dad does finally retire, it will give him something to do here.’ They reached an open door and Aaron placed a hand on the small of Freya’s back. ‘After you.’

Freya went inside. It was good to get out of the sun and into the cool dark hallway.

‘Mamma?’

‘Out the back!’ a woman’s voice called.

It was a traditional house with none of the open plan, open to the elements that were a feature of the villas on Loabi Fushi. The waft of spices and something cooking drifted through the house and made Freya’s mouth water before they reached the kitchen.

The kitchen door was wedged open and three ceiling fans whirred furiously. Two large windows overlooked the beach, the trees outside providing much needed shade to the house. Aaron’s mum was a good foot shorter than her son, with silver hair and a colourful dress. She barely looked at them as they entered. She was too busy bustling across the kitchen, her arms full with vegetables.

She dumped them on a wooden board and turned to them. ‘So, you’re Aaron’s girlfriend?’ She raised an eyebrow and wiped her brow with a cloth.

‘I, um... we work together, on Loabi Fushi...’

‘Mamma, Freya’s the new bookseller.’

‘You like books, huh?’

Freya nodded. ‘I do.’

‘You would get on with my husband. He’s always buying books. We never had enough shelf space, even when we were living in the British Embassy.’

‘Not completely true, Mamma. There was plenty of space in Finland.’

‘Finland was cold. That was its downside.’

Her sun-weathered face was warm and open, yet there was a frankness about the way she spoke. She was obviously a busy woman with her British husband overseas while she ran a guest house and looked after her grandchildren.

‘Well, it’s good to meet you, Freya.’ She gave her a slight nod. ‘Assalaam Alaikum.’

She kissed Aaron on the cheek. ‘And it’s good to have you home. You know where the rooms are. Leave your bags in there and don’t get under my feet. Dinner will be ready at five.’

They retreated the way they’d come, into the dark hallway.

‘I told you she’s quite a character,’ Aaron said under his breath as they made their way upstairs. ‘She’s also quite traditional, despite having lived abroad for years.’

It was lighter on the first floor. A long corridor ran the length of the building with rooms off it.

‘Are there guests staying?’

‘A young couple, I think.’ He pushed open the door of the end room and Freya went in.

It was simple with polished wooden floorboards, a double bed with white linen, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. There was a small armchair by the window with a view past a frangipani tree to the beach.

‘This is your room; mine’s at the other end of the hallway.’ He raised an eyebrow and gave her a sly smile. ‘Like I said, she’s traditional.’

Freya dropped her bag on the end of the bed. She’d travelled light with just a washbag and a change of clothes. She ran her hands along the bumpy wall which was painted a rich saffron yellow. Whereas the villas on Loabi Fushi were elegant and luxurious, here was colourful and homely. Lived in. Freya liked that.

‘What are you thinking?’ Aaron sidled behind her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close. He rested his head in the crook of her neck.

‘I’m thinking how lovely this place is. Quiet like Loabi Fushi. I could listen to the sound of the ocean forever.’

‘Is that all you’re thinking about?’ He ran his hands across her breasts.

Freya laughed. ‘I thought you said your mum’s traditional?’

‘Oh, she is. I can’t tell you how much I’d like to fall into bed with you right now, but trust me, if we haven’t gone downstairs in about ten minutes, Mamma will be up here checking on us.’ He turned her around and took hold of her hands. ‘So how about we take a walk along the beach – I’ll show you a bit more of the island.’

~

Although less luxurious, the island rivalled Loabi Fushi for its beauty. The sand was pale and sparkled in the sun, and the water was dazzling and so inviting. Trees and bushes lined the beach, a lush green backdrop with splashes