Page 38 of The Secret Librarian
‘Camille, I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly.’
She waited, keeping hold of the American.
Avery leaned into her. ‘Your German boyfriend, the man I’ve seen you with ...’
‘He’s a means to an end and nothing more,’ Camille told her.
‘To find out who killed your husband?’
Camille let go of the breath she was holding and it shuddered from her lungs. ‘Exactly.’
Chapter Twelve
Avery
Avery had thought she was busy when she’d been working at the library, but nothing could have possibly prepared her for the hours she was spending with her eye pressed to the viewfinder of her camera in Lisbon, documenting all of the publications she’d managed to source. She now had books and newspapers piled up around the living room and the spare bedroom – which no one had ever arrived to fill – and she was starting to see why Tom had kept the apartment in such a mess. It was impossible to keep order when she barely had time to do anything other than work, and she kept bringing bag after bag of material home with her almost every day from not just Camille’s bookshop, but other vendors dotted around the city. Even those books that Avery didn’t feel were important enough to microfilm were still boxed up and sent to Washington just in case, albeit without any urgency. They might not be shipped for months, until there was space on a returning aircraft.
Avery squinted, her eyes becoming tired after so many hours hunched over, but she wanted to finish photographing the current book to add to the worn, brown leather diplomatic pouch she’d prepared to send the following day. It still seemed almostunbelievable to her that the pouch would make its way by air back to the United States within days of her safely handing it over to her contact from the American Legation in Lisbon. She’d had no feedback at all on her work, receiving only her weekly stipend and a note in the post instructing her to intensify the search for books on German military strategy, but she could only imagine that no news was good news. She had sourced all sorts of books, newspapers and even maps so far, and her only worry was that she might run out of film. And she couldn’t help but think about what Camille had seen, wondering if her own workwasactually as useful to the cause as she’d thought it to be. Or whether there was indeed more that Avery could be doing, like helping to create documents that would change the lives of those Camille tried to help.
Avery glanced at her wristwatch then and realised how late it was, and she quickly checked her reflection in her bedroom mirror before grabbing her keys and rushing down the stairs. The news stand a few blocks away usually stocked German weekly papers on a Wednesday, and she didn’t want to miss out on the copies for the week. But as she flung her door open, she noticed a cream envelope and quickly bent to collect it before it blew away.
She slid her nail beneath the seal, pulling out a small card in matching thick cream stock, and read the beautiful handwriting, not having any idea who it was from until her eyes flicked ahead to the last line.
Dear Avery,
I didn’t want to disturb you by knocking, so thought best to deliver a note instead. Are you free for dinner tomorrow night? I’m staying at the Tivoli Avenida Liberdade, just up the street from the Hotel Avenida where we were both having drinks the other night, and I thought we couldhave dinner there. I’ll be at your doorstep at seven if you’re kind enough to accompany me. James.
PS I just made my first mistake, telling you where I live.
Avery put the card back in the envelope, holding it against her chest for a moment as she laughed at their little joke, before slipping it into her pocket and dashing down the street in the direction of the news stand.
‘Hello,’ she said when she got there, breathless from walking so fast, before switching to Portuguese. ‘I’m sorry, I forget myself sometimes,’ Avery apologised. ‘Newspapers today?’
The man pointed towards the Portuguese paper, which was all part of the game now. He knew what she came for, and he often insisted that she buy the local newspaper before finally showing her what she really wanted.
‘I have family in Germany, so I like to keep up with the news,’ she said, giving him her sweetest smile. ‘Do you have any newspapers that might help me find out what’s happening there?’
He shrugged and she took out some money, spotting his son playing in the street as she did so. Avery had sat one day to watch the comings and goings, to observe the owner and the many customers he had throughout the day, because it helped her to understand what might work if she ever needed to bribe him.
‘Your son likes American bubblegum?’ she asked, taking a stick from her pocket.
The man smiled then and immediately reached for the newspaper she wanted, which he kept away until she had handed over the gum.
‘I have more if you have anything else for me?’ she asked. ‘Chocolate?’
He bent down, and when he stood he passed her another paper.Italian.Avery tried not to smile too hard as she handed over the bar in her bag.If only I’d offered chocolate before.She often found the weekly German newspapers she was searching for, but the Italian papers were much harder to get her hands on, so this was extra special.
‘Thank you!’ she said, walking back the other way so she could wave to the small boy she’d just parted with the treats for. ‘Make sure your papa shares the bubblegum I just gave him!’
The boy stared at her, blinking, before running over to his father, and Avery found herself grinning the whole way home, newspapers tucked beneath her arm, the sun on her face, and a cool breeze against her neck that made the temperature bearable. In her apartment it was sometimes stiflingly hot, but out here, today, the air felt magical.
She touched her pocket to feel the card there, thinking about what she possibly had in her wardrobe that was suitable to wear, and wondering what her mother would think of James. She would likely think him very dashing, although Avery couldn’t imagine James being quite so eager to impress her mother as Michael had been. It was almost as if Michael were a boy, whereas James was most definitely a man.
Avery forgot all about her date though when she saw the mailman at her door, and she ran all the way to see if he had anything for her.
‘Miss Avery Johnson?’
‘Yes!’ she gasped. ‘That’s me. Do you have something for me?’
