Page 31 of The Secret Librarian
‘I can see why you were surprised that I didn’t know of this place,’ Avery said, gesturing around them. ‘It seems as if it’s the very centre of Lisbon.’
Camille’s smile was warmer than it had been when she’d first met her, but Avery had the distinct feeling that she was very guarded. But no matter how much James’s words lingered as she stared atthe beautiful woman before her, blonde hair swept elegantly off her face, she also wanted to take Camille at face value. It was nice to have another woman to talk to, especially one who knew the city so intimately. Why should she trust James over Camille, anyway?
‘How do you know the man who just left?’ Camille asked. ‘Have you met him before?’
Avery smiled and waved the waiter over when she saw him, so Camille could order a coffee. ‘It’s the strangest thing, but I’ve run into him a few times since I arrived. Enough times that I’m almost convinced it’s not accidental, but he’s always been very friendly. And he’s British, so I suppose there’s nothing to worry about, given we’re on the same side of the war.’
‘Lisbon is a city full of spies,’ Camille said with a shrug. ‘But if he’s been that obvious, I’d say it’s probably coincidental. Or that he’s taken a liking to you. If he was a spy and he didn’t want you to know he was following you, he’d have been more discreet.’
Avery blushed. ‘He said the same thing, about the spies. I was starting to think he was exaggerating if I’m honest.’
‘It’s true, there are many Allied and Axis spies here – it’s one of the only places they can move freely, after all – but this city is much more complex. I mean, look at the women around us, those seated alone. Have you asked yourself why?’
‘They could be spies?’ Avery said, keeping her voice deliberately low.
‘The women sitting alone? No, they’re refugees. They sit here to listen for news, and because they feel safe being somewhere busy.’
‘How long will they be in Lisbon for?’ Avery asked. ‘Are they just passing through?’
‘Some will have been waiting days, others weeks, some months,’ Camille said, and Avery heard her voice change, a huskiness audible as she looked away from the women, as if it caused her pain to see them. ‘Some may wait forever for a boat that never arrives.’
‘These women, they’re mostly Jewish?’ Avery was almost whispering now, not wanting their conversation to be overhead.
‘Mostly. They’ve found their way here, to safety, but the passage they’ve been promised to America is constantly delayed, if it ever comes at all. So they’re alive, but it’s as if their lives are on hold, and they’re just hoping and waiting for a chance at a new life somewhere else. They thought getting here was the hard part, but it turns out that leaving here is just as difficult as escaping wherever they came from in the first place.’
Avery found herself dabbing at her eyes, and Camille’s expression softened.
‘They are alive though, Avery, and that’s what matters,’ Camille said. ‘Someone has risked their lives to help them escape the horrors of wherever they came from, and they’ve made it. However bad it is here waiting, it’s nothing like what they left behind.’
‘It’s just, well, people like me read about what’s happening in the newspapers from the comfort of home, and I’ve seen the photos of books being burned in Germany and’ – Avery lowered her voice – ‘of Jewish people being forced to wear the yellow star, but being here makes it feel real. I suppose I wondered if it was truly all that bad.’
‘Itisthat bad, I promise you it is. I saw it with my own eyes in France,’ Camille said. ‘The things I’ve seen, the truth I know, would break your heart.’
Avery waited for Camille to continue, but she was quick to change the subject, fixing her smile and thanking the waiter when her coffee arrived.
‘But Lisbon is far from all that, and here you can at least pretend that things aren’t so bad. Despite its downfalls, the locals make it a haven here, for many of us.’
Avery smiled also, sensing that Camille no longer wanted to talk about the sadness of it all. ‘This place, it’s more alive thananywhere I’ve ever been in my life before. New York is nothing like this.’ Avery knew there was something almost ironic about her being there when all these refugees were desperate to get to New York, but it only made her more determined to ensure her work meant something – that she was doing something useful for the war effort.
‘So, tell me about yourself,’ Camille said, glancing down at Avery’s hand. ‘No husband? No fiancé waiting at home for you to return?’
Avery felt a sense of calm as she replied. ‘No, I’m not ready for marriage. I just have this sense that I want to see the world, as silly as that might sound.’
‘Not silly at all. When you meet someone who makes you feel as if your heart is going to burst from your chest if you can’t be with him, that’s when you’ll know you’re ready to get married.’
‘You speak from experience?’ Avery asked, hoping she wasn’t overstepping.
‘I do,’ Camille said, before reaching for the menu and artfully changing the subject again. ‘Shall we order something to eat?’
‘Thank you for lunch, Avery, and for your assistance earlier, but I’d best get back to the shop. My regulars often call by in the afternoon,’ Camille said, slowly rising and reaching for her purse an hour or so later.
Avery stood, too, kissing Camille on each cheek. ‘Shall we do it again sometime? It’s nice having another woman to spend time with.’
Camille nodded, her smile polite, but Avery found her hard to read. She hoped that Camille had enjoyed their time together as much as she had.
‘I’ll come by on Thursday and see if you have any more newspapers for me,’ Avery said.
Camille nodded and said goodbye, and Avery watched her go before heading off in the other direction, towards her apartment. She wanted to see for herself the families displaced and waiting that Camille had spoken of.
