Page 38 of The Secret Librarian
Chapter Nineteen
Camille
Camille never felt so vulnerable as when she spent time with Lisbon’s refugees.
They reminded her of home, of Hugo, of what she’d lost. But they also reminded her why her work was important, and why it was worth risking so much to save them.
Only now she felt more nervy than usual, knowing that someone could be watching her.
Kiefer had been clear in his warnings – if she was caught here, if anyone could prove she’d been doing the work, no one would be able to save her. And now he was gone.
She sat in the square, a book in hand as she pretended to read.
In actual fact, her eyes were barely dancing over the words as she waited for her contact to meet her.
In helping the French arrivals, she wasn’t just risking her own life, but theirs, too.
Only, they didn’t have much choice if they ever wanted to escape the clutches of Europe for America.
Within minutes, a woman sat down beside her. She, too, held a book, which she opened in her lap.
‘The man in the uniform has been following you again,’ the woman said. ‘I saw him last time you tried to come.’
‘I have to be more careful than ever. This has to be my last forgery for a while. And you need to spread word that it’s too dangerous for anyone to come to my shop looking for me, for the time being.’
‘What if someone needs you?’
Camille blinked away tears. This was what she’d feared the most. ‘It’s just for now. But you have to do what I ask, for their safety as much as mine. If they’re caught looking for me, without a visa, they’ll be deported immediately.’
They were careful not to speak too much, and Camille suddenly felt overcome with sadness.
The woman’s children played nearby, and they reminded her of that last family they’d tried to help in France; the fear in the mother’s eyes as she’d stood before Camille and Hugo asking them to help her, putting their lives in her hands.
She knew that no matter what happened in her own life, that moment would play through her mind for as long as she lived; wishing things could have been different, that they’d made another choice.
‘The papers are tucked inside this book,’ she told the woman. ‘I’m going to put mine down for a moment, you do the same, and then we will carefully swap books.’
The woman was silent, and when Camille put her book down, the woman did the same, though she caught Camille’s hand, her fingers brushing hers for the briefest second, lingering, her only way of showing Camille just how much the papers meant to her.
A tear trickled down Camille’s cheek then, followed by another, and she sat silently as they began to stream down her cheeks.
‘What you’ve done, for so many of us, it will never be forgotten,’ the woman whispered. ‘Even if you can’t help anyone else, what you’ve done is a miracle for those you’ve helped.’
Camille quickly wiped her cheeks. ‘It will never feel like enough.’
‘You will remain in the hearts and prayers of families like ours forever, Camille. Don’t you ever forget that.’
They sat for a while longer, side by side, in silence, until the woman finally rose to leave.
Camille knew she was right, but she also knew that she would always wish she could have done more.
Just as she would always wish she’d found out what had happened to the family who’d been waiting for her and her husband that night, and whether any of them had survived. Although, in her heart, she knew.
Camille’s last customer for the morning left and she walked out the back into the office, perplexed at why Avery was packing up her things. They’d barely spoken since Avery had arrived, as Camille had had people in the shop all afternoon, but she went to seek her out now to see how she was.
‘Avery? Is everything alright?’
Avery looked unsure of herself, which was not something Camille was used to. When they’d first met, certainly Avery had been very green, but the more time they’d spent together and the longer she’d done her job, the more confident she’d become. But today, Avery looked plain scared.
‘I just need to get back to working at the apartment,’ Avery said. ‘Now that Kiefer is gone and we won’t have anything from him to photograph, it—’
‘Avery,’ Camille said, frowning. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’
Avery looked like she was about to cry. ‘That PVDE officer came looking for me, Camille. I was having dinner with William and they came into the restaurant and ...’ Avery reached into her handbag and produced a card. ‘He left me this. He wants to talk to me.’
‘About?’ Camille asked, taking the card and knowing without even looking who the card belonged to. Lourenco Santos. The one man in Lisbon who could ruin everything she’d worked so hard for. ‘What would he want to talk to you about?’
‘You,’ Avery said, her voice a whisper. ‘He wants to talk to me about you .’
‘Did you tell him anything?’ Camille asked, glancing up and out into the shop to check that no one had entered. ‘Do you think he knows you’ve been working with me?’
‘No! I barely spoke to him, William tried to make him feel rude for interrupting us, but I’m so nervous of everything.
Of what could happen to me, of being arrested, of—’ Avery gasped.
‘I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, as if I shouldn’t even be here.
One moment I was feeling as if I’d gained this newfound confidence, and now I’m questioning everything.
And William told me about a woman just like me who’d been arrested in Spain, and I can’t stop thinking that it could have been me, it could still be me.
They could send me to jail, Camille, and throw away the key! ’
Camille took Avery’s camera from her and placed it on the table, wrapping her in her arms and holding her in a long hug. Camille stroked her hair, sensing that something more had happened to warrant her sudden change of heart, but not knowing what.
‘What happened to my brave American girl?’ Camille asked, still holding her, trying to tease. ‘I will never let anything happen to you, I promise. I told you I’d take the fall for both of us if it ever came to that, and I meant it.’
Avery pulled back and Camille saw tears shining in her eyes.
‘The brave American girl is scared, Camille. She’s scared that she’s very much out of her depth.
’ Avery blew out a breath. ‘But I will always help you with the documents. I know it’s dangerous work, but I would never forgive myself if I didn’t help those poor people.
I just, I don’t know what to do. I’m terrible at lying, and if they question me properly, I . ..’
Avery stayed silent, and Camille let go of her, watching as Avery finished tidying up the area she’d been working in. She’d miss her not being there every day, not having someone to talk to or just have nearby to remind her that she wasn’t alone.
‘I don’t think there will be many more refugees arriving from France, it’s so difficult for anyone to get through now, but regardless, we won’t be doing any more of that work for a while, not until the heat is off us.’
Avery didn’t hide her surprise. ‘We’re stopping?’
‘For now. I don’t see that we have any other choice.’
‘What you’ve done for those people, Camille, even if that work is finished for now, it’s meant so much to so many people.
I’ve seen it first-hand, the way they look at you .
..’ Avery put her arms around Camille and hugged her.
‘I’m so proud to have played a small part in helping you. Every little thing, right?’
‘Every little thing,’ Camille repeated. Her smile was small, but it was there, and Camille realised, not for the first time, just how much Avery had come to mean to her.
‘I actually came looking for you last night after I left William,’ Avery said. ‘I went to your apartment, but you weren’t there.’
‘Come on, let’s close the shop and get some fresh air,’ Camille said. ‘We can talk while we walk.’
They stepped outside into the warm sunshine together, Avery carrying the bag with her camera in it, and Camille swinging the keys to her shop from her fingers.
They walked down the street and crossed over to stare out at the water, and it reminded Camille of the day they’d spent at the beach together.
‘The PVDE followed me last night,’ Camille said. ‘I went to the square, but it didn’t feel safe to hand the documents over.’
‘Do you think they were following you before they came looking for me?’ Avery asked.
‘Perhaps,’ Camille said. ‘I didn’t risk handing over the papers, they were sewn safely into my jacket, but when I realised how hungry so many of the families were, how desperate their children were, I went back and took them everything I had in my kitchen.
It was too dangerous to hand over the papers, I had a feeling I was being watched, but I knew I couldn’t be arrested for giving them food. ’
Kiefer had warned Camille away from the refugee families, told her she wasn’t to go back, but even with his words of warning ringing in her ears she’d still returned.
Avery reached for her, putting an arm around her. ‘You have the kindest heart, Camille. Is there more we can do for them? I have a little more money stashed away that we can use to buy more supplies if that would help?’
‘There’s just so many of them,’ Camille whispered.
‘You can fill the bellies of one family, and turn around to see another watching. It’s enough to break a heart.
’ Hers felt as if it were cracking wide open, although she didn’t tell Avery that.
‘I know you’ve seen it too, but something about last night, it just all felt so much worse.
There are so many of them here waiting, and I don’t believe the boats are even coming for them. ’
‘We can’t give up hope, and I know it’s not ideal but they’re here. The ones with the correct paperwork are at least safe – that’s what you told me when you first took me there, and it’s as true today as it was then.’