Page 22 of The Secret Librarian
‘Do you need blankets? Is there anything I can do to help you be more comfortable?’
Tears slipped down the woman’s cheeks then, and Camille felt emotion building up in her throat as their eyes met. They had both known pain, and they had an immediate bond over what they’d suffered.
‘I knew who you were. When they were talking about you here in the camp, I knew.’
Camille studied her face, but she was certain she’d never seen this woman before.
‘You helped my brother and his family, a long time ago. You and your husband.’
Camille’s breath caught at the mention of Hugo. ‘I helped many families, but your brother ...’ She closed her eyes, wondering if it was him, seeing the man and his family in her mind, remembering the hope shining from their gazes when she and Hugo had promised them that they’d take them to safety, before everything had turned upside down. She wanted to ask, but the question stuck on her tongue.
‘I’m told my brother made it to New York. It’s why I’m hoping to follow him.’ The breath the woman let out shuddered from her lips. ‘It’s why I risked everything.’
Camille’s shoulders sagged with relief. ‘Then we need you to be ready. I’ll make the visas for you first, and then your daughter’s identification.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t have a camera for passports, but I’ll find one. You can trust me, I promise I’ll find a way.’
She had the woman write down details for her, and Camille carefully placed the paper into a hidden pocket in her coat, before disappearing into the dark again. Women like the one she’d just met, mothers fighting to keep their children alive, gave Camille a purpose in Lisbon, and the moment the sun came up she would be back in her bookshop working on their visas. Because if they were caught without the correct paperwork because she hadn’t completed it fast enough, they’d surely be sent back to where they’d come from, and that wasn’t something she wanted on her conscience.
Chapter Seven
Avery
Avery walked down the street with her pulse racing and a spring in her step. She’d done it, she’d actually acquired her first two foreign newspapers! But something about the man who’d entered the bookshop had made her nervous. And the way the bookshop lady had bundled the book and newspapers up so quickly made her wonder who he was; perhaps the PVDE she’d spoken of? Or, Avery gulped, a Nazi. The very thought sent a shiver down her spine. In hindsight, hehadlooked Aryan, which meant she may have just rubbed shoulders with the enemy. It was so hard to tell when his English had been so heavily accented.
She hurried back to the apartment, her mind full of everything the bookshop owner had told her, stopping only on the street corner to see what the vendor was selling, but quickly realising it was the same local paper that Camille had already given her. Everything else had either sold out or not arrived yet, and she needed to return rather than search for more publications. Tom’s departure had been delayed by a day, as had the drinks he’d invited her to at the hotel, but he’d still promised to walk Avery through everything she needed to know that afternoon, so she didn’t wantto be late. He’d been sleeping when she left, but it was almost noon now and she doubted he’d still be snoring. If he was anything like her cousin Jack, it would be his stomach that eventually woke him.
When she finally reached the apartment, she found Tom nursing his head at the table, a piece of bread spread thickly with jam in front of him.
‘Late night?’ she asked, going to pour him a glass of water and setting it in front of him.
‘Thank you.’ He groaned but sat back and mustered a smile. ‘Far too late.’ He glanced at her brown paper package. ‘What do you have there?’
‘Well, I’m not entirely certain as the bookshop lady wrapped it up so quickly, but—’
‘The French lady?’ he asked. ‘What’s her name? Camille, is it?’
Avery nodded slowly, as if she wasn’t sure whether to confirm or deny the fact. ‘Should I not have? Her bookshop was on the list I was given and—’
Tom waved his hand. ‘No, it’s fine. She seems to stock all types of interesting books and newspapers there, but ...’ He made a noise in his throat. ‘Someone said she’s linked to a Nazi, although it could be nothing more than a rumour. They seem to spread faster than the truth here.’
‘Romanticallylinked?’ Avery asked, aware that her voice had become very high-pitched.
‘Look, I’m sure it’s not because she’s a Nazi sympathiser. Women have to do certain things to survive in wartime, if you know what I mean, and I’ve heard she was widowed.’
‘Well,’ Avery said, digesting what she’d just been told and hoping she hadn’t sounded too prudish in her initial reaction. ‘That’s interesting, but would she help me find the foreign newspapers I wanted if she were a Nazi sympathiser? She was ratherscathing, and that’s putting it lightly, about people she perceives as being naive about the war when it comes to the Jews in particular.’
Tom shrugged and massaged his temples. ‘Take whatever anyone tells you here with a grain of salt, if you know what I mean, and just be careful to show as much interest in Allied publications as enemy ones, just like you were taught. Our budget allows us to do that, so that if we were ever questioned, we can honestly say that we were simply preserving all works. No one needs to know that we have intelligence agents back home scouring the newspapers for clues or hidden messages, although I’m sure they covered all this in your training.’
They sat for a moment, and Avery watched as he gingerly ate his toast. She hoped he wasn’t going to throw up right there at the table, and she inched her chair back a little just in case, at the same time telling herself not to get carried away and drink alcohol at the hotel tonight. She did not want to be nursing a sore head come the morning.
‘So, tell me about how to get the microfilm back to Washington,’ Avery said. ‘How often do I send the film back? And what do I do with all the papers and books once I’m finished with them?’ She was starting to realise that buying a cross-section of all papers, including unwanted Allied ones, was going to result in a lot of material that needed to be stored. ‘Actually, no one has even told me if acquiring all these texts is even legal here. Could I get in trouble if I was found to be in possession of too many foreign papers?’
‘Don’t overthink things, you’re not a real spy, Avery. If anyone does find what you’ve acquired, they’ll just think you’re some weird bookish lady,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Now, the time-sensitive or most important film goes in the diplomatic pouch, and the rest—’
Tom opened his mouth as if he were about to continue speaking, then leapt up and ran for the bathroom door.
Avery sighed and reached over for his toast, not about to let all that jam go to waste. It was going to be a very long day by the looks of it, although it wasn’t as if she didn’t have a lot to think about. Her conversation with Camille had certainly opened her eyes, and she found herself determined to find out more so that no one could accuse her of being so woefully naive ever again.
The next night, Avery had never felt so out of her depth. Not being plucked from obscurity by the IDC, not flying to the other side of the world –nothinghad made her feel so unsure of herself as walking into the Hotel Avenida that night. The building itself was impressive, with a concrete facade and glass doors, and as she’d walked up the low steps to enter, a doorman had welcomed her and told her how stunning she looked. That had set her cheeks on fire and had her all a-fluster before she’d even walked into the hotel bar, which appeared to be full of people. Or not so muchpeople, as men.
