Page 37 of The Secret Librarian

‘Of course, I’m certain she will. I just thought it was admirable, that a woman such as yourself was prepared to risk so much for her country.

Although I suppose it’s about setting up a network you can trust, right?

Although it’s hard to know who to trust in some places, and you certainly wouldn’t want to do anything outside of what you’ve been sent to do, am I right? ’

Avery felt torn inside, and she wasn’t certain if it was Camille’s ongoing suspicions about British men or her own concerns that made her wonder if William was purposely toying with her. It was almost as if he wanted to warn her, scare her off perhaps, and it was certainly working.

‘You never did tell me what you were doing in Lisbon,’ she asked, knowing it was bold but realising that he’d never actually told her.

‘I’m a journalist, actually,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d already told you that.’

She watched as he took his napkin from his lap and dabbed carefully at the corners of his mouth.

Avery had a second realisation then, that it was particularly strange for a journalist to be stationed in a country that wasn’t at war.

What were they possibly reporting on, or was it simply their base?

She’d never given it much thought when James had told her his occupation.

Or cover story. Now she wondered if anything James had told her was true.

‘That’s how you know James, presumably?’ she asked. ‘Although I’m guessing you’re rivals, not colleagues, if you’re both fighting to report on the same stories?’

‘Ahh yes, my fellow countryman James,’ William said, collecting his drink again and sitting back in his chair, looking as relaxed as could be.

Avery’s stomach was churning. She forced herself to pick at her food, despite her distinct lack of appetite, waiting for him to continue.

‘We’re competitors, that’s all. Sometimes he gets the best stories back to London before I do, other times it’s me. The only bad blood between us is that we’re always against each other when it comes to work. That’s all.’

She finished her mouthful. ‘That’s all? You’re not going to try to warn me off him or ...’ Avery didn’t actually know what she expected him to say.

‘You know him well?’ William asked.

‘We met a couple of times,’ she lied. ‘Nothing more.’

If he was worried about her friendship with James, he didn’t show it. ‘Anyway, how’s that ham? I could eat a second plate it was so good.’

‘It’s lovely, thank you,’ Avery said. ‘I just don’t have a very big appetite. But you help yourself to what I can’t eat, if you like, while I use the restroom and powder my nose.’

She smiled as William stood for her, tucking her purse under her arm and heading for the bathroom, her legs a little wobbly.

Once she was there, she went to the toilet and then stared at herself in the mirror while she washed her hands, keeping them under the water for much longer than she needed to.

Stop doubting yourself. You deserve to be here. No one is going to arrest you, you’re not doing anything wrong. Just try to enjoy dinner and then find a way to end the night early before he tries anything on.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about the PVDE and what might happen to Camille if they found a reason to raid her shop again, and when she finally went to turn the water off, she realised her hands were shaking.

Just go back out there and enjoy the rest of your date. You’re being silly. William is handsome and charming, he’s the perfect date.

And so she did. Avery walked back out to the table and found William had ordered another drink, and that their main course had arrived.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting, I think I had too much to drink on a very empty stomach,’ she said. ‘But this food looks delicious. I’ve never tasted fish so nice as I have in Lisbon.’

William reached for her hand and she let him. ‘How about I order you an orange juice, so you don’t have to worry about drinking too much wine?’

‘That’s incredibly thoughtful of you. Thank you.’

He waved the waiter over and ordered, before taking a pocket watch from inside his jacket to check the time, the diamonds around the watch face glinting under the lights.

‘William, do you mind if we don’t talk about our work tonight?’ she said. ‘I find myself so consumed by what I do each day, that it’d be nice to just pretend we’re not in the middle of a war.’

‘A woman after my own heart if ever there was one,’ he said. ‘I knew there was a reason I was drawn to you.’

Avery turned her attention to her dinner, feeling slightly more at ease already.

But when she looked up, she saw a familiar figure walk past the door to the restaurant.

Avery quickly glanced away, not wanting William to see, but she clearly hadn’t been quick enough, for he turned to look.

It might have been her mind playing tricks on her, but she was certain that James had just passed by, and her stomach lurched violently.

Avery blinked away a tear, her eyes down, and hoped that William hadn’t noticed.

‘Did you see someone you know?’ he asked.

‘No, I was just ...’ She cleared her throat and leaned in, even as her mind was racing, as she tried to come up with another lie. ‘I feel very unsettled knowing that we’re surrounded by the enemy, and a Japanese man just walked past the door.’

That seemed to be enough to placate William. ‘It is unsettling, I’ll give you that.’

‘My father would have a heart attack to know I was virtually rubbing shoulders with the enemy here. I wouldn’t put it past him to demand a seat on the next plane heading to Portugal to drag me home himself.’

William laughed, and they both went back to eating their meals, although it took every inch of Avery’s willpower not to keep looking out for James, her heart racing as she tried not to panic that he was back.

Because it didn’t matter what Camille had told her, she still found it hard to believe that he’d been a traitor to his country, and she was tempted to ask James outright to explain himself if she could find him before Camille did.

A commotion near the door caught her attention then, and William stood, dropping his napkin to the table as men in uniform approached their table. Avery’s breath caught in her throat.

‘What is the meaning of this interruption?’ William asked, stepping slightly in front of her to obscure her view of the men. But she immediately knew who they were, recognising the shorter, overweight man who’d been in Camille’s shop on the day of the raid.

They were from the PVDE.

‘We would like to speak to the young woman behind you, about her association with a French woman by the name of Camille, who we believe may be illegally assisting Jewish refugees and selling contraband books from her bookshop.’

‘And you have evidence of this, or are you merely on a fishing expedition?’

‘The lady behind you has been seen at the square, and frequenting the bookshop, which is why we’d like to have a word.’

‘It is now a crime to be charitable to the needy or indeed indulge in buying books?’ William laughed. ‘Because if that’s the case, then you may as well arrest me while you’re here.’

Avery’s entire body trembled, but she refused to let anyone else see how scared she was. And if ever she’d been grateful, she felt eternally so to the man protecting her in that moment. She glanced around the room and saw that everyone else dining in the restaurant was watching them.

‘No sir, neither of those things is a crime, but—’

‘I’m sorry, but as you can see, we’re in the middle of dinner, and unless you intend on arresting one of us, then I suggest that you calm down and leave us be until a more convenient time.’

The man leaned around William, dropping a card on to the table as his beady eyes met hers.

‘I suggest you make an appointment to see me at your earliest convenience,’ he said.

Avery glanced at it and saw that his name was Lourenco Santos. She reached for it, her fingers curling around the stiff card. She’d heard Camille mutter his name after the raid on her shop.

‘Yes sir,’ she said. ‘I will.’

He gave her a long, unsettling kind of stare, before turning sharply on his heel and taking his two men with him.

‘Avery?’ William asked, his brows furrowed as he reached for her hand.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the young child whose photograph she’d taken recently, watching the film come to life as she developed it; the maps she’d photographed; the documents she’d carefully forged as she sat shoulder to shoulder with Camille at the little desk in the backroom of the bookshop, black ink pens in their hands.

Thankfully the other people dining had resumed their conversations and were no longer staring at them.

‘Avery?’ William repeated.

‘I think I’ve lost my appetite,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, but I need to go home.’