Page 46 of The Secret Librarian
‘Your American friend is aware of what happens to those who don’t follow our laws?’ Santos asked, as if Avery wasn’t standing right there.
‘I most certainly do, and I hold Camille in the highest regard,’ Avery said. ‘She runs an excellent bookshop, don’t you think?’
‘I think it is time for the American to go,’ he said, looking past Avery and speaking directly to Camille again.
Avery’s eyes met hers, and Camille gave her a tight smile, praying that she would leave without making a fuss. It seemed that Avery understood the urgency, no matter how reluctant she might appear, because after a moment of looking between the two of them, she tucked her bag close to her body and left.
‘This can be very easy, Camille,’ Santos said, as she followed him into her office and stood as he walked slowly around, before going back out into her bookshop. He swept one hand violently down a bookshelf, sweeping a dozen books or so to the floor. ‘You can answer my questions and I can leave, or I can come back with more men and we can turn your entire shop upside down.’
She swallowed. ‘I’ll answer your questions. I have nothing to hide.’
His smile pulled his lips into a thin line. ‘You’ve been seen in the square, with the Jews.’
Camille shrugged. ‘Is it now an offence to have a heart?’
‘Why do they come into your shop?’ he asked. ‘Why are you visiting them?’
Her breath was shallow and she fought against the panic in her chest that made her want to gasp. ‘They want to read like anyone else. I don’t know what you want me to tell you, and if I must, I will stop selling them books. But like many of the locals, my heart breaks for the homeless women and children. It’s not a crime to give them my leftovers of food, is it?’
He looked down his nose at her. ‘Camille, are you familiar with the name Sousa Mendes?’
Camille maintained her expression, blinking as she slowly shook her head.Of course I know him, you fool! He was the Portuguese diplomat who saved thousands from the Nazis by giving them visas to enter Portugal from France.
‘Since he was forcibly retired, we expected no Jews from France to arrive in Lisbon, so you can imagine my surprise at knowing there are French Jews here with visas,’ he said. ‘I would like to know how they came to be in possession of such paperwork, because if someone was forging documents? Then they would find themselves thrown in jail and left to rot.’
Camille leaned on the counter and reached for her silver case of cigarettes and her lighter. She lit one for herself, before offering them to Santos. To her surprise, he took one. ‘I am as surprised as you are,’ she said, blowing smoke into the air. ‘But Lourenço – may I call you Lourenço?’
He gave her a curt nod.
‘Lourenço, you must know who my boyfriend is,’ she said, hating the word as she said it. ‘Would I have a Nazi boyfriend if I was this sympathiser you thought I was? I am simply a woman who likes to help children sometimes, in the same way I’d throw food to an abandoned puppy on the streets. I know nothing of what you speak of.’
‘If you’re not the person I’m looking for, then who are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m a woman who will sell a book to anyone with money,’ she said, nonchalantly and with an unimpressed shrug. ‘I am in the business of selling books and making money, that is all.’
‘And your American friend? Should I be questioning her?’
Not Avery. You can’t go after Avery.Camille would take the fall before ever letting Avery get into trouble.
Camille laughed, perhaps a little too loudly. ‘The American is an innocent little librarian. I can assure you that she’s not who you’re looking for, but if you want to question her, I’m certain she would be easy for you to find.’
He gave her a long look, taking a final draw of his cigarette before stubbing it out on her counter and striding from her store without so much as a goodbye. Camille only hoped that his presence hadn’t spooked Avery.
But within minutes of his leaving, Avery marched straight back into her bookshop with angry red cheeks and two paper bags full of Portuguese pastries.
‘Avery, I—’
‘Whatever you need me to do, whatever help I can give, set me to work,’ she said, thrusting one of the small bags towards her.
Camille gratefully took it, her eyes meeting Avery’s.
‘He didn’t scare you away?’
‘He made me more determined than ever to do more to help. I hate bullies, and that man is one of the worst.’
Camille took a bite of pastry, licking the sugar from her fingers and watching as Avery did the same.
‘We’re going to have to be careful. He knows who you are now, and his suspicions have been raised.’ She stared into Avery’s eyes. ‘You need to understand the risk you’re taking. If he finds out the truth, if they catch us ...’ She exhaled. ‘I’ll tell them it was all me, that you had nothing to do with it, but there is still a chance—’
