Page 10 of The Secret Librarian

‘That’s me, aside from the man part, of course. I was told the apartment at this address was where I was supposed to stay. I take it I have the right place?’ She grimaced. ‘Although I’m feeling more and more as if perhaps you weren’t expecting me.’

He cleared his throat and immediately opened the door wide, coming out far enough to take Avery’s largest suitcase from her.

‘Sorry, you’ve taken me a bit by surprise.

I was told you’d be here this week, but I actually didn’t think you’d be here before I left.

Not to mention the whole gender misunderstanding, which I apologise profusely for.

I’d intended to leave the key under the flower pot. ’

‘Left?’ She hoisted up her other bag and shut the door behind her, following him up the stairs. ‘You’re leaving here?’

‘I’ve been posted elsewhere; I leave the day after tomorrow. Didn’t anyone tell you?’

When they stepped into the apartment, it was very clear that whoever this man was, he’d been living alone and most definitely hadn’t been expecting company.

There were things strewn everywhere, including bowls and cutlery, and an open bag on the small dining table was stuffed full with belongings, not to mention stacks of newspapers piled high on the floor.

‘Excuse the mess. If I’d known you were arriving ...’

Avery kept hold of her bag, deciding not to put it down on the floor, which looked equally in need of a good clean. ‘If you could just point me in the direction of my bedroom ...’

‘Sorry, where are my manners,’ he said. ‘Tom.’

‘Avery,’ she said, reluctantly letting her bag go and sticking out her hand. ‘You’re a librarian too?’ she asked.

‘No, I was a research assistant at Harvard before they recruited me for this job. It’s a pretty good posting, if I’m honest. Lisbon is an easy place to enjoy yourself.’

Avery nodded, not sure whether she was pleased he was leaving or sad. She’d certainly never lived alone before, but then she’d never shared accommodation with a man other than her father either.

‘The bedroom?’ she reminded him.

‘Ahh, yes, sorry, I have a few things in there. I’ll clean them out straight away.’ He dashed down the hall ahead of her. ‘I’ve been here a month on my own now. There were two of us but he was posted elsewhere – Stockholm, I think?’

Avery stood and waited, pushing her damp hair off her face and wishing she could draw herself a bath and soak in the hot water until it went cold. She felt as if she’d been travelling for days.

‘Sorry, one more question. Where would I freshen up?’ she asked, when he came past with his second armful of things and announced the room was ready.

‘Down the hallway and to the left. We share with one other apartment, but he’s barely ever there.’

Avery nodded and took her bags into the room, pulling the drapes wide and letting some light in.

It was small but comfortable enough, with a narrow wardrobe and a desk and chair in the corner.

She had a few possessions from home to liven it up, and she was certain there would be things to buy locally to make it feel more like a home.

Either way, it was her own space, and for that she was grateful.

‘Avery?’

She looked up expectantly. Tom stood at the door, his face hovering between a smile and uncertainty. She realised that, despite his mess, she’d immediately warmed to him, and was starting to wish that he was staying simply because she was nervous about being alone.

‘I’ll let you get settled in tonight, but tomorrow night me and some of the guys are heading to the Hotel Avenida, a going-away drinks of sorts in my honour. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like?’

‘I’d love to, thanks for asking.’

He gave her a long look, as if there might have been something else he was going to say, but she spoke before he did.

‘Tom, I was told that someone would walk me through the process here – how to get the microfilm back to Washington and such. Is that person you?’

He laughed. ‘They didn’t walk you through all that during training?’

‘You could say that my training was rather expedited, and although I know we use a diplomatic pouch, they told me there’d be someone on the ground to help with logistics when I arrived.’

‘You only had a few weeks of training?’ he asked.

She grimaced. ‘More like one, then I was sent home on leave until my passport was ready and my flight organised.’

‘They must have been in quite a rush to get you here. Tomorrow afternoon suit?’

‘Perfect. It’ll give me time to explore and try to find my first publication.’

‘I’ll make a list of the best places to go each day. Remind me tomorrow.’

Tom gave her a wink then and left, and she sat on her bed and listened to what she imagined was him frantically tidying the living room.

Avery smiled, despite how tired she was, and lay back on the bed for a moment, the fatigue of travelling very much catching up with her.

She would rest a bit before freshening up, and give him some time before reappearing in the living room.

I’m actually here. In Portugal. In my own apartment.

It was almost impossible to believe it, but she’d done it, and she wasn’t going to let anyone wonder if they’d sent the wrong girl. This was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Avery opened her eyes, taking a moment to remember where she was.

It all came back in a flood of memories – the plane, the apartment, lying down – and she realised that instead of exploring her new home, she’d fallen asleep.

It didn’t take her long to change her clothes, and when she walked out into the living area she was surprised to see it looking as tidy as could be, with a note for her on the table along with a key.

There’s some leftover food in the kitchen, help yourself, and if you wake up in time, the market is the place to go. Head down the street and turn right when you see the vendors set up on the roadside. See you tomorrow (don’t wait up tonight!). Tom.

She put the note down, grateful that Tom had been so considerate to think of her, and glanced at her wristwatch to see the time.

It was very late in the afternoon now, so she doubted that anything would still be open, but she was determined to at least have a look around.

Within minutes she’d fixed her hair and applied a sweep of red lipstick, and then she was locking the door and stepping out on to the street, her eyes wide as she watched two women with straight backs and big smiles balancing fish baskets on their heads, a man sitting on his doorstep smoking a cigarette, and a group of children laughing and running in the opposite direction.

The city immediately felt alive to her, and it was like nothing she’d ever seen before.

Until that day, she’d barely gone a few miles out of New York, other than her recent trip to Washington, and it felt as if she’d travelled to another world, it was so different.

It was colourful and bright, warm and quaint, all at the same time.

It was exactly as she’d hoped it would be, and more.

And perhaps most surprising of all, there were no signs of a world at war.

Avery began to walk, taking in all the different people around her, her low heels clicking on the cobbled pavement.

She had the distinct feeling that she could walk for hours, taking in the sights and breathing in the scenery, and she only wished she had someone with her to share the experience with, and that it wasn’t quite so late in the day.

She rounded a corner then and saw a few small stores, wishing she’d brought her map with her so that she could figure out where everything was.

There were two bookstores that she was supposed to frequent as often as possible, as well as a newspaper vendor another street over, and she was certain that one of the bookshops was in the area closest to her apartment.

Avery headed towards the shops, eager to look in the windows even if they were shut, and sure enough she soon came to a bookstore with a little sign in the door turned to ‘Closed’.

But she could see that it was jammed full of books, with shelves lining the far wall and tables set up through the middle, and she couldn’t wait to go in and explore the next day to see what she could find.

She kept walking, eventually circling back and finding the market Tom had written about, watching as the stallholders tidied up and left for the day, carrying baskets and talking in rapid-fire Portuguese that she hadn’t a hope of understanding.

Brushing up on her language skills was going to be her first task, other than sourcing the publications she’d been sent to discover.

But then the most magical thing happened.

The street lights began to click on, one after the other, just as the sun began to lower in the sky.

Avery burst out laughing, her hand over her mouth, as she twirled on the spot and looked up and down the street.

It wasn’t even dark yet, but she could already imagine what it must be like at night, with the lights twinkling in the dark and illuminating the city.

After months of blackouts at home – and all around the world from what she’d read – Portugal was like a little beacon of light amid the darkness, and she couldn’t wait to write home and tell her parents about it.

‘Are you lost or just enchanted?’

She turned at the man’s voice, obviously directed at her because he’d spoken in English and with a very British accent.

Avery shook her head, realising how silly she must have looked twirling around to see everything – so much for blending in. She was the most obvious tourist in all of Lisbon.

‘Not lost, but thank you for asking.’

The man was tall and lanky, with dark hair that fell slightly on to his face. His skin was golden, as if he spent a good deal of time enjoying the sunshine, and his smile was easy.

‘Your first time in Lisbon?’

Avery laughed. ‘Is it so obvious?’

He just gave her a lopsided smile and went on his way, a newspaper tucked under one arm, and Avery decided to retrace her steps and head for home.

She couldn’t wait to explore Lisbon more in the morning, but for now she needed to find something to stop her stomach from growling, and set up her bedroom.

Thankfully her mother had packed enough baked goods to last her for days, so she wouldn’t have to raid Tom’s supplies in the kitchen, but as she walked back to her apartment, it wasn’t food she was thinking of.

It was the devilishly handsome man who’d spoken to her on the street and then disappeared.

Her footsteps quickened as she wondered if perhaps he lived in the area, because she certainly wouldn’t mind seeing him again.

But then she remembered what they’d called Lisbon when she’d been in Washington – the ‘city of spies’ – and she wondered if perhaps he was someone she shouldn’t hope to run into again, no matter how handsome he might have been.

The last thing she wanted was a complication. She was in Lisbon to work, and that was exactly what she intended on doing. Avery most certainly didn’t have time for distractions.