The Love Island Bookshop by Kate Frost (ebook reader with internet browser .TXT) 📕

between me and my youngest sister. A lot of hormones going on in our house.’ Drew tightened the cap on the massage oil and sighed. ‘I weirdly miss it but at the same time I’m like glad I’m not living there any longer. I do feel for my poor dad though. Four girls and now three of them teenagers at the same time.’

‘Yeah, that must be crazy, and totally different to my upbringing. I can only ever remember it being me. By the time I was six, my brother had gone to uni, so most of the time it didn’t even feel like I had a sibling. My parents have never said this, it’s just my impression, but I’m almost one hundred per cent certain I wasn’t planned. They’d just got to the point of gaining their independence back with my brother being a teenager. They were past the stage of needing a babysitter, they’d got new-found freedom and I’m pretty sure they’d been making plans to emigrate when I happened. I kind of put an end to that.’

‘Surely they could have still emigrated even with a baby?’

‘You’d think, huh. I would have liked to have grown up in New Zealand.’ Freya stared out at the idyllic view, the peacefulness calming despite the way thinking about her parents made her feel. ‘They have a vineyard out there and spend their days growing grapes, making wine and giving vineyard tours. They work hard but it’s an amazing life. A baby wouldn’t have fitted in with their plans.’

‘Why didn’t they go when you were a bit older then?’

‘Because by that time my brother had gone to uni, so he would have been left in the UK alone.’

Drew frowned.

‘And I know, it sounds mad because that’s exactly what they did with me. As soon as I went to uni, they upped and left. I think they’d got to an age where they thought it was now or never.’ Freya shrugged.

‘That must have been tough. There’s no way I’d have coped if that had happened to me. I mean, however much my family drive me bonkers, it’s good to know they’re there. They’re always there for me.’ Drew looked thoughtful as she gazed at the pot of Moroccan oil in her hands.

Freya wasn’t sure whether to say anything or not, whether she was ready to open up to someone who she’d only known for a short time. But friendships in a place like this seemed to be made fast. It was the nature of living and working somewhere you were unable to leave for weeks on end. And Drew had become a real friend, someone Freya looked forward to seeing, someone she felt comfortable chatting with. She clutched the edge of the counter. God did she need a friend like that.

‘I wasn’t totally on my own,’ Freya eventually said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘In the holidays, the main ones like summer and Easter – sometimes Christmas if I didn’t spend it with my brother in France – I’d go and stay with my best friend and her family. I’d known them since I was seven and we were really close. They were happy to have me crash their family time, so it honestly didn’t feel like I was alone...’

‘Or abandoned more like.’ Drew raised an eyebrow.

‘I was an adult and pretty much grew up as an only child, so I was quite mature for my age.’

‘Well, that’s good. I’d have been a mess.’ She gave her a wry smile. ‘Your friend sounds fab.’

‘She was.’

Freya met Drew’s eyes. Her face dropped. She reached out and put her hand on Freya’s arm.

‘What happened?’

Freya breathed in deeply. The ocean air, the warm exotic fragrance of the oil on her skin should have soothed her, but her chest felt tight. Memories that she’d tried to bury came bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill in a torrent of upset.

‘I’m not really sure, that’s the problem.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I know what happened – she killed herself. Amber killed herself.’ She swiped angrily at an escaping tear. ‘I just don’t know why she did.’

‘Oh my God, that’s awful. I’m so sorry. Did anyone know why?’

Freya shook her head. ‘She didn’t leave a letter. I think that was the hardest thing. No one had a clue. None of us understood why. You’d think I’d have seen the signs, noticed something. She was my best friend and we’d known each other since we were little. We told each other everything. At least I thought we did. And it’s not like we didn’t talk; we did, loads, although I guess us not living near each other meant we texted loads, maybe we didn’t really speak, you know like the long conversations we had when we actually saw each other. And when we did speak, I obviously never asked the right questions, or maybe I did but I didn’t dig deep enough. She seemed okay on the outside.’

‘That’s the thing though, people who are feeling like that can hide it so well.’

‘She seemed so happy.’

Drew squeezed Freya’s arm tighter. If she was expecting the burden to be lifted through telling Drew about her friend’s death, then she was mistaken. Unlike the feeling straight after the massage, no weight had been lifted. Her chest was still tight and she knew deep down what it was; the fear of getting close to someone again, letting a friend into her life, someone like Drew, or a man, a new romantic relationship scared her as much. An image of Aaron flashed across her mind; the easy way they chatted, the definite flirting, more from him, but she liked it. Yet it tore at her insides that getting close to someone, anyone, would be a bad idea. It wasn’t rejection she feared, but loss. She couldn’t face losing anyone again: her parents to the other side of the world; her best friend to suicide; her boyfriend to cowardice because he couldn’t deal with the messy emotions of grief.

‘It must be