The Love Island Bookshop

by Kate Frost

  ‘Fresh lemonade.’ Adil poured her a glassful and left the jug on the table. ‘Mr Cohen doesn’t drink.’

  Freya didn’t quite know what to do with that information. Once she’d been offered the job, she’d read up on Zander, but of course that couldn’t show her the real person. Did he not drink because of a health thing or a drinking problem? And did that mean she wasn’t able to drink either? She could really do with a glass of wine right now. The longer she was left waiting, the more questions she had and the more worried she became about meeting him. The setting should have soothed her but it left her anxious.

  It was so peaceful with only the sound of the ocean that she heard Zander arrive and say hello to Adil before she spotted him. Adil led him over to the table. His reputation as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors was not lost on her. He’d embraced the barefoot vibe and his toned and tanned legs were highlighted by cream shorts. As he strolled towards her, she noticed his blue linen buttonless shirt, the open neck showing a hint of chest and a tattoo. He was wearing a chunky watch and had a clean shaven face, which was instantly recognisable. Freya realised she was staring. She gripped the edge of her chair and willed herself to remain calm. As he reached her, she stood and shook his outstretched hand.

  ‘At last, Freya, we get to meet in person; my barefoot bookseller.’ He kissed her on both cheeks. He smelt delicious, a warm spiced scent that complimented their surroundings.

  ‘It’s good to finally meet you too, um, Mr...’

  ‘Zander. Please call me Zander.’

  Freya noticed the briefest of looks in her direction from Adil, before he picked up the jug and poured Zander a glass of lemonade.

  ‘You’re even more beautiful in real life,’ Zander said as they sat down.

  Freya had no idea how to reply to that but her cheeks flushed. Her fingers gripped the edge of her chair.

  Zander inclined his head. ‘Adil, if you could bring our first course now, please.’

  Adil nodded, turned on his heels and silently retreated.

  ‘This is quite a spot,’ Freya said, choosing to deflect his comment. If it wasn’t for her knowledge of a restaurant-full of guests a few minutes’ walk away, it would truly feel like they were alone on a desert island and that left her feeling rather uncomfortable. A compliment was one thing, but what would she do if he tried to touch her?

  ‘You haven’t seen Loabi Fushi yet. But I’ve spent the last couple of days in Malé and was longing for some peace. This spot is usually reserved for honeymooning couples, but as no one had opted to dine here tonight, I figured, why not. I thought you might like to see the true beauty of the place.’

  Freya had thought she’d done her homework on Zander and his island paradise. She frowned. ‘So, do you own this island as well?’

  ‘No, but it was the first island I managed. I fell in love with the Maldives and knew I wanted my own slice of paradise out here. I worked hard to get it.’ He picked up his glass of lemonade and took a sip, his eyes not wavering from hers. ‘And you. You gave up your publishing job for this.’

  It seemed like a statement rather than a question and there was a tone that made her wonder if he questioned her reasons for having given up her job for a nine-month stint running a bookshop. At the end of the day, it was what the job was, albeit on a tropical island in the middle of the Indian Ocean. He’d gone from being a platinum-selling pop star in a boy band to an entrepreneur and luxury resort owner, surely taking a risk and following her heart was something he’d approve of?

  ‘Yes,’ Freya said, carefully thinking through how to respond. The job was hers; he’d hardly send her packing when the bookshop was to open in a couple of weeks’ time, and yet her gut was telling her not to say anything to offend him. It wasn’t only her time on the island she was concerned about but her future career, whether that would take her back to publishing or to running a bookshop of her own. ‘I’d got to a point in my life where I felt I needed a change.’

  ‘You were unhappy?’

  ‘Not with my job, no.’

  ‘Love life then?’

  Freya frowned, taken aback. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She couldn’t actually believe he’d said that.

  ‘Sorry, that was rude of me. I have a habit of saying what comes into my head without filtering it first. Honestly, I’m truly sorry. I’m genuinely interested in you and your reasons for applying for the bookseller job, but I overstepped then.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ Freya said, still unsure quite how to answer and floored by his honesty. ‘I had my heart broken by my ex. Let’s just say he let me down at a time I needed his support the most. But that had nothing to do with why I applied. I wanted to do something different. Have a change of direction and a new challenge.’

  Zander nodded. ‘That came across in your application.’

  ‘Did you read them all?’

  ‘No. We were inundated. I was passed any they thought I’d be interested in and then we narrowed it down to the interview stages. But ultimately it was my choice. You were my choice.’

  Their conversation was halted by Adil returning with their food.

  ‘Thank you, Adil,’ Zander said.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ Freya’s mouth watered as Adil placed a seafood salad in front of her. She was glad to have something else to focus on and was relieved to let Zander continue talking as she dug her fork into the flaked lobster.

  ‘I’m interested in what motivates people,’ Zander said, looking across the table at her. ‘To change their life and do something completely different. Something different from what they’re used to. I don’t consider myself as someone who’s ever done anything normal – I’ve never had an office job although I’ve been working since I was fourteen, but I know that’s not the experience of most people.’

  ‘Did you have a normal childhood?’

  ‘Hardly. I mean, I know it’s subjective what each of us thinks is normal, but I’m pretty confident my upbringing wouldn’t be most people’s experience. I’ve moved about all my life. My parents have spent their lives travelling, living and working in different countries. From an early age I knew I didn’t want a ‘normal’ life, but after a childhood of never being in one place for more than a year or two, I was desperate to put down roots, just on my own terms. When I first started making money in my teens taking tourists snorkelling in Fiji, I was certain I’d make my fortune one day.’

  Freya wondered if hers was a ‘normal’ life. It had followed a predictable pattern of school, university, an entry level job in publishing and then she’d worked her way up over the next few years. Nothing as exciting as travelling the world, getting a number one hit at nineteen, becoming a multi-millionaire by the age of twenty and owning a private island in the Maldives by the age she now was. And he was still only thirty-nine. But it was her life and she was proud of what she’d achieved. What was weird was knowing so much about him. However much she understood that the truth could be skewed by the media, it was the excessive money and lifestyle that had jumped out at her, along with the images of him enjoying parties on yachts and in private villas with beautiful women. Freya knew she needed to keep an open mind but a smattering of entitlement and arrogance had seeped through the magazine pictures and the accompanying words.

  Freya scraped the last mouthful of seafood salad on to her fork. ‘So, if this isn’t your island, how come you’re here? I was expecting to go straight to Loabi Fushi, although this is a wonderful detour.’

  ‘I had a run of meetings rearranged in Malé that were too important to postpone. And I like any excuse to pop back here. The manager used to work for me and is a friend. Also I didn’t want you to arrive on Loabi Fushi without us having met, hence the overnight stay here. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Not at all; the place is beautiful and getting to stay in one of the villas is a treat. Thank you.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  Freya had no idea if he was forking out for her st
ay or not, but she figured it was probably a drop in the ocean for him. A holiday somewhere like this was possible but only after months of saving.

  ‘It’s the Maldivian buffet this evening,’ Zander said as Adil silently appeared and removed their empty plates. ‘I took the liberty of suggesting a couple of dishes for us.’

  Adil returned with a tray and placed a handful of bowls on the table between them.

  ‘We have rice, lamb curry and a fish curry with fried vegetable and fish balls. Don’t be shy,’ Zander said. ‘Help yourself.’

  Freya didn’t need to be asked twice. She dug in, spooning something from each dish on to her plate. Despite having done little else besides snorkelling in the house reef and sunbathing on the beach, she was amazed at how hungry she was.

  ‘So, tell me, Freya. You applied for the job because you longed for a change, but were you okay to leave behind friends and family to work here?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll miss friends of course, but it’s easy enough these days to stay in touch remotely. Not quite the same I know, but like I said, I needed a change.’

  ‘What about family?’

  ‘My parents live in New Zealand.’ Freya was tempted to leave it at that but Zander was watching, his fork resting on his plate. ‘They bought a rundown farmhouse with land and have turned it into an award-winning winery and guest house. I have an older brother too – there’re twelve years between us. He lives in France with his family, so we’re spread out all over the place.’

  ‘So you don’t see them often?’

  Freya shook her head. ‘Not my parents no. And my brother only an occasional Christmas or for a holiday. These fish balls are incredible.’ She stabbed her fork into another one and popped it into her mouth. It would be rude to talk with her mouth full and he obviously realised that.

  ‘We’ll get the boat to Malé late tomorrow morning, then I’ve arranged for you to fly on to Loabi Fushi. You’ll have a day or two to get settled in and familiarise yourself with the place. Then the focus will be getting the bookshop ready to open. It’s unique and something special in an already special place. The main thing is to remember you’re the face of the bookshop, therefore the face of the island. I’ve set up a photo shoot for later in the week. There’s lots to do – the blog to write, events to plan. It’s an exciting project.’

  The face of the island. What did he mean by that? Did it really matter about her publishing background and her knowledge of books and the industry when he was suggesting it was the way she looked that would continue to sell his brand of luxury? She’d seen the images used on the island website, a gorgeous young couple enjoying all Loabi Fushi had to offer. Were they actual guests, photographed because they were gorgeous, or models paid for their time? There was a certain look and opinion to be gaged from the images used.

  Why was she even surprised? She’d read enough about him to have seen this coming a mile off. She reminded herself that this was no ordinary bookshop; it was no ordinary job either. She knew she needed to hold back making assumptions, but...

  ‘You won’t be back on the island until...?’

  ‘For a couple more days. Then we can get together and go through things – see how you’re getting on. Until then, you’ll be in good hands with Meena; she’ll show you the ropes.’

  Chapter Five

  The seaplane was small with just her, the pilot and two couples on board. Freya’s whirlwind twenty-four hours on Makumathi had given her a taste of being a guest and part of her hadn’t wanted to leave. Maybe she should have opted for a two-week holiday of a lifetime on a Maldivian island rather than giving everything up to work thousands of miles away from home. The nerves were kicking in again as she gazed out of the small oval window at the endless ocean. She knew she’d be okay once they landed and she finally got to see the island where she’d be living for the foreseeable future.

  Zander had confused her. He was charming and handsome, which she’d expected, but a couple of his comments had made her question why he’d chosen her to run the bookshop. She’d left behind a good job, a decent flat and lots of friends to live and work on a tropical island, and once her nine months were up, she needed to have an idea of what she wanted to do when she went back to the UK. She had no regrets in leaving behind a city for a slice of paradise – for a short time at least.

  The seaplane glided in. The island was much larger than the one she’d left that morning. Pearly white sand surrounded a forest of green with only the dark grey of thatched roofs visible through the palm and ficus trees. The other difference was the long wooden walkway stretching across the house reef with luxurious over-water villas leading off it. A little further out, lapped by azure water, was a heart-shaped sand bank, by all accounts where the name Loabi Fushi – or Love Island – came from.

  They dropped lower and bumped across the smooth surface of the turquoise water. It was such a brilliant colour; it didn’t seem real. How was it possible for somewhere to be this beautiful and unspoilt? It highlighted the life she’d left behind. She thought she enjoyed living and working in London with its large leafy parks and open spaces, historic buildings and architecture, but in reality not everywhere was like that. On a gloomy day away from the parks and wealthy streets with pristinely kept town houses, there was a grimmer side that went hand in hand with city living: overflowing bins, smog-stained buildings, cigarette ends littering the pavements, streets choked with traffic, and graffiti scrawled brickwork. Her parents had upped and left their comfortable life in England for the other side of the world, while her older brother and his family had swapped the suburbs of London for an idyllic French farmhouse within walking distance of woods, ice-clear streams and lavender fields. Perhaps moving countries was in her family’s blood.

  All Freya could see as she reached the jetty of Loabi Fushi was sparkling water, white sand and a wall of trees against a backdrop of a cloud-free sky. As soon as she got the job, Freya had pored over the website, drooling over the luxurious villas, the swathes of white beaches, the spa and the numerous restaurants – but the reality was even better. From the moment she stepped off the seaplane it was evident the island effortlessly combined its natural surroundings with first class luxury.

  Pretty much every island in the Maldives had the tagline of ‘barefoot luxury’ and she was ready to kick off her slip-on trainers as soon as her feet touched the wooden decking. Grains of sand were lodged between the grooves and impossibly clear water from the swell of the seaplane splashed the sides.

  The couples were being greeted by two women with cold towels, while a third woman dressed simply in a beige skirt and a white blouse walked over to Freya.

  ‘Welcome to Loabi Fushi!’ Meena, Zander’s PA and the woman who’d first interviewed her, greeted her with a beaming smile. ‘It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Freya.’

  Freya got the sense she was being greeted with as much enthusiasm as if she was a guest. The nervousness she’d felt in Zander’s presence the evening before slowly began to ebb away.

  ‘You must have had quite a journey with your stop-off on Makumathi,’ Meena said as they followed the guests along the slatted wooden dock.

  ‘Yes, but it’s been a good start. I met Zander too. He said you’d be showing me around.’

  ‘He’ll be back in a couple of days but till then you’ll have to make do with me. I’ll show you to the staff village.’

  Up ahead, the couples disappeared beneath the trees, and apart from her and Meena, there wasn’t another person about. She was struck by the absolute peace. The water on either side of the walkway was achingly clear and Freya could see down to the sandy seabed. Fish darted about on either side, swimming alongside the walkway right up to the shallows.

  ‘Is that a shark?’ Freya stopped and peered down at a small shark zigzagging through the water.

  ‘Our friendly black-tip reef sharks. You’ll spot lots of them. Our house reef is renowned. It’s one of the absolute highlights of staying here.’

  They lef
t the midday sun for the shade of the trees, and the path split, with wooden signs pointing in different directions to ‘beach + dive school’, ‘pool’ and ‘spa’.

  ‘Most of the restaurants and bars can be reached down there.’ Meena pointed in the opposite direction to the way they were going.

  Everything was familiar despite it being the first time she’d set foot on the island. It was better in real life, though, with mottled sunlight warming her shoulders through the leaves and the constant sound of the ocean and the call of birds in the trees.

  Another path split three ways with wooden signs indicating ‘staff only’ ‘beach + restaurants’ and ‘island walk’. ‘The managers’ accommodation and our offices are set back from the main guest area – we call it our forest hideaway. If you need me, you can usually find me there most of the time.’

  ‘Do you live on the island then?’

  ‘For a few weeks at a time, then I go home to Kochi. I grew up in England but moved to India with my family when I was sixteen. Then it was back to England for uni before working here.’

  They followed the sandy path signposted ‘island walk’. The gentle rush of waves breaking was overtaken by the chatter of insects as they headed deeper into the island’s forested interior.

  ‘And is this where Zander lives when he’s not travelling?’ Freya asked.

  ‘It’s his home.’

  ‘He’s got a place here?’

  Meena nodded. ‘It’s a big enough island and to be fair, he spends most of his time here. The beach villas cover about half of the island, and there are the over-water villas too. There’s plenty of space and long stretches of empty beach with no overlooking villas. Zander could have developed it more but he chose not to. He’s kept it tranquil and exclusive. Plus, no expense has been spared on the staff accommodation either which, in general, is rather unusual. Not all islands offer a place to stay quite like Loabi Fushi does... Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a patch on the guest accommodation but we’re very lucky. And Zander has his own private area of beach and forest too.’