A wave of sadness hit her. There was no bookshop to run any longer; it was damaged, not beyond repair, but badly enough that she wouldn’t be back any time soon. She breathed deeply trying to stave off the worry coursing through her. The last thing she wanted to do was leave the island.
Freya spent the next hour sorting the books into three piles: damaged beyond repair; salvageable; and sellable. People milled about behind her, clearing the broken bits of bookshop away. The pile of burnt wood, charred reeds of the roof and some of the destroyed driftwood shelving was taken away on a trailer attached to a buggy. It made quite a difference not having the clearing cluttered with broken bits of the shop. Zander was hands on, helping his staff lug shelves and twisted bits of wood off the decking. She heard him talking to Hassan and answering call after call on his mobile.
Later in the afternoon, one of the bar staff arrived with cold drinks and Zander insisted everyone took a break. Some people headed back to the staff village for an early dinner, while a couple of the others sat beneath the shade of the trees with their drinks.
Zander joined Freya next to her pile of books. He thumbed through the pages of Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. He sniffed it and wrinkled his nose.
‘I know, it smells like bonfire,’ Freya said.
‘We’ll leave it out in the fresh air, see if that does any good.’ He nodded towards the bookshop. ‘Have you seen inside?’
‘No, haven’t wanted to.’
‘Let me show you. It’s not as bad as you’re imagining, I promise.’
She scrambled to her feet and dusted off the sand. She followed him across the decking and through the open door. She stopped. She could see the sky through the gaping hole in the roof and the end wall, which had been filled with new paperbacks and a shelf of beautiful hardbacks, was tarred black and completely destroyed.
‘You call this not bad?’
Zander gave her a wry smile. ‘It could have been a lot worse. The place needs gutting, stripping out anything that’s damaged and then the roof and that far wall need fixing.’
Freya took it all in, unconvinced about the extent of the damage – it looked like it needed a lot work, but at least the place was still standing. If she turned her back on the damaged half, then she could almost imagine that nothing had happened. Almost.
She spied her copy of The Beekeeper of Aleppo where she’d left it on the counter and picked it up. It smelt of smoke but was otherwise fine. She clutched it to her. ‘This book is the whole reason I was here last night.’
‘And the reason why this place wasn’t totally destroyed.’
‘What are you going to do with all the books still in here?’
‘The ones in that half are just going to have to be destroyed, the others, we’ll see. We’ll take everything out and sort through them. They can all be replaced. The guys are going to finish clearing away and then we’ll see what needs doing next. But that can wait until tomorrow. It’ll be dark soon.’
They retreated outside. The day had flown by, although Freya realised she’d slept through a good chunk of it, a luxury she hadn’t had since arriving with staff coming and going at all hours. Already there was a silvery tinge to the sky. The sun had sunk lower and wasn’t as intense, the patches of sunlight creeping through the trees softer now. Freya clutched the book to her chest and took a deep breath of the fresher ocean air.
Zander was talking to Adam, the island’s chief engineer, and a couple of other staff had started to box up the books that were to be saved. Freya felt lost, with no role on the island. She fought back tears as a wave of emotion washed over her. She breathed deeply, trying to concentrate on the here and now and the things she could control, not about what might happen in the future. She needed food and it would be good to see Drew. She needed to find Aaron too. Another wave washed across her, this time worry about Aaron and why he hadn’t come back last night, or why he hadn’t come looking for her today to make sure she was okay.
Zander appearing next to her, forced her to gather herself together.
‘Right, we’re all done for today. We’ll figure out what’s next tomorrow.’
Freya nodded and smiled at him. She tapped The Beekeeper of Aleppo. ‘Well, only a day late, but I’ll head back and finally get to read my book.’
‘Why don’t you come back and have dinner with me...’ He was standing with his back to the ocean. Beneath the shadow of the trees and against the fading light it was hard to see the look on his face. ‘It’s the least I can do after all your help.’
‘I, uh...’ She didn’t quite know what to say. She was ravenous though and it felt odd to say no. For what reason? He’d been so generous and thoughtful. ‘That will be lovely, thank you.’
The sky was darkening rapidly and Freya noticed everyone was leaving. A no-entry sign had been put on the path to the beach and the island walk in case any guests tried to head that way. Freya assumed the fire would be common knowledge. It must have caused quite a disturbance last
