Page 47 of The Secret Librarian

Chapter Twenty-Six

Camille

Camille was nervous every time the bell rang now.

The truth was that she was safer than she’d ever been now that she was no longer deceiving a Nazi or trying to hunt for her husband’s killer, but she still shivered whenever she thought about that night and how close she’d come to death.

Ever since Hugo’s passing, she’d thought she wanted to join him to stop the pain, but when she’d been faced with it, she’d realised how much she still wanted to live.

When she saw who was walking towards her, she breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Hello, Camille.’

Her shoulders dropped from where she’d had them hunched up. ‘Bonjour, James.’ She immediately went to him, opening her arms and giving him a warm hug before kissing his cheeks.

He looked surprised, or perhaps just a little bashful at the attention, his cheeks flaring a dark pink.

‘I have a feeling you’re not calling in just to say hello,’ she said. ‘But I’m pleased you’re here either way.’

Camille went to the door and turned the sign to ‘Closed’, locking it and beckoning for James to follow her. She took him to the room in the back.

‘Coffee?’

He nodded. ‘Please.’

She busied herself with making them both a drink and turned around to pass him the cup, sitting on the table so he could take the single chair. It reminded her so much of Avery every time she was in the office, of hearing the constant click of her camera as she worked.

‘James, I owe you a proper apology,’ she said, as he took a sip of coffee and winced at the temperature. ‘I distrusted you for so long, I even tried to make Avery distrust you, and I’m embarrassed my instincts were so wrong.’

His smile was easy, and she wondered how she’d ever missed that. He certainly didn’t look like a man with anything to hide.

‘We have a saying in English when it’s time to let something go, that it’s water under the bridge,’ he said. ‘And it is, Camille. You have nothing left to apologise for because it’s already water under the bridge. Truly it is.’

Something inside of her softened and she knew that there were tears glistening in her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

‘I actually came here today because I have information for you,’ James said. ‘I thought it might give you some closure.’

Camille watched curiously as he set down his coffee and retrieved an envelope from inside the bag he was carrying. She smiled to herself. A true spy if ever I’ve seen one .

‘The reason I was posted to Lisbon in the first place was to hunt for Allied double agents,’ James said, tapping the folder as he spoke.

‘We knew they were working in Lisbon – it’s the best place for it, after all – and so I was sent here under the guise of a journalist to try to figure out the lay of the land, so to speak.

I was closing in on William that night, but it all went down rather differently than I’d planned, as you well know. ’

She took the envelope when he passed it to her, but James kept hold of it when he saw how much her hands were trembling.

‘You don’t have to look at any of this information if you don’t want to. I’m sending my report back to London today, and you can forget all about my ever coming here if you want to. It’s up to you.’

Camille stared at the envelope, her heart beating loudly, but she knew she’d regret it forever if she didn’t look. She’d spent every day since Hugo had died seeking revenge and wanting to find out who was responsible, and James was right – it would be closure for her.

‘It’s time for me to move on from what happened,’ she eventually said. ‘But to do that, I need to see what’s in this file.’

James let go of the envelope and sat back, and she took a deep breath before opening it.

‘William was trained in London, recruited into the SOE after being top of his class at Cambridge University,’ James said as she slowly ran her eyes over the information in front of her.

‘There were no red flags at all, nothing that would have given any of his instructors reason to doubt him, and most of them are still baffled at how he was turned so easily, or that it was him at all.’

‘You think he had Nazi links?’ she asked, glancing up at him. ‘A connection that was missed?’

‘It appears he was simply bribed by the lure of wealth,’ he said.

‘The Nazis were giving him jewellery and other valuables looted from the Jews they arrested, in exchange for information, such as the pocket watch you recognised. It was truly as simple as him putting himself above his country for personal gain.’

Camille sat on that information, trying to digest it and finding it impossibly hard to stomach.

‘All this time, I’d thought it would be more complicated.

People all over the world are fighting for their country, risking everything because of what they believe in, and he was just looking out for himself? ’

‘It certainly appears that way,’ James said, crossing his legs at the ankles as he nursed his coffee.

‘You believe he was responsible for my husband’s death?’

James looked at the file then back at her, his gaze steady. ‘I am certain, without a doubt, that William was responsible. He’s the only double agent that we’ve identified who was in France at the time of your husband’s death.’

‘And the family in France who we were supposed to help that night, do you know anything about their fate?’ Camille asked.

‘Is there any way to find out what happened to them? I know they would have been discovered where they were waiting for us, they would have been like sitting ducks, but I’ve always hoped . ..’

James shook his head. ‘They are presumed dead, although there is always a chance that they made it to a camp and survived.’

Camille closed her eyes and took a deep breath. So that was it. Maybe she would never know what had happened to them, but at least she knew who was responsible for what had happened that night. When she opened her eyes, she was rewarded by James’s warm, steady gaze.

‘James, have you heard from Avery?’ she asked.

‘I haven’t. Have you?’

She sighed. ‘No. I’ve never been so eager to check the mail in all my life, but I haven’t heard anything from her yet.’

They sat in silence for a long moment, James sipping his coffee and her looking over the extensive report that detailed everything James had uncovered about William’s duplicity, as well as photographs of jewellery that had been recovered, including the precious watch.

‘So what happens next?’ she asked, closing the folder and placing it on the table. ‘Will you stay in Lisbon?’

‘I’m actually taking this report back with me to hand-deliver,’ he said. ‘I leave for London this afternoon.’

Camille felt an overwhelming sense of being lost. She’d focused on one thing for so long, and now it was over. Avery had gone. James was going. It was all over.

‘What will you do?’ James asked. ‘Will you stay in Lisbon?’

She shrugged and swallowed away her emotion.

‘I don’t have anywhere else to go. France is my home, but I can’t exactly go storming back to Paris, and .

..’ She blew out a long, shaky breath. ‘I have a bookshop to run. That’s as far into the future as I can see right now.

’ She also had Jewish families who still needed her help until their passage to America was secured.

‘I could always talk to my superiors and see if we have a role for you, if there’s something you can do for the Allied cause,’ James said. ‘I’d personally vouch for you, of course.’

Camille rose and went to the office door, staring out at the shop that had been her life for so long now, looking at all the books before turning back to James.

‘How about we agree to stay in touch, and if you need me, if you need any information at all, you know where to find me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help the Allies win this war. ’

James rose then and picked up the file, slipping it back inside his bag.

‘I guess this is goodbye then,’ he said.

‘I guess it is,’ Camille replied. ‘Goodbye, James.’

He gave her a long, steady look, and she almost wondered if he was going to embrace her, but then he nodded and walked back through her store, before unlocking the door and disappearing out on to the street.

She followed slowly behind, reaching up to turn the little red sign around to ‘Open’ and watching until she couldn’t see him any longer.

It was then that she saw a little stack of mail outside, to the side of the door.

Camille bent to pick it up. The mail must have come while she had the door locked, and she rifled absently through the letters to see what was there.

But it was the last one, postmarked New York, that made her gasp.

Camille ran out on to the street, calling for James, searching frantically for him, but he’d already gone.

She tore the envelope open, though was careful to preserve the sender’s address, and walked slowly back to her shop, reading as she went.

Her heart was in her throat from the second she read Avery’s words.

Dear Camille,

To say that I miss you would be an understatement.

From the day I left Lisbon, I’ve missed everything about my time there, but mostly, and with all my heart, I’ve missed you.

I keep wondering what you’re doing and how you feel, and all I can think is that I should never have left you in Portugal.

I know it’s not my decision to make, but if you’re feeling lost or you’re missing me the same way that I’m missing you, please find a way to come here. You’d love New York!

Life here seems so quiet to the life I lived in Lisbon.

I’m back working at the library, which is fine, but it’s certainly not Portugal, that’s for sure.

I find myself stacking shelves and walking along the aisles, wishing I could have been posted overseas for longer and imagining what it would be like to travel again once the war is over.

But sometimes I can’t stop thinking about what happened that night, the violence of it all, about how close you were to dying.

Those are the times I wish you were closer so we could talk.

I’m thankful that Michael, the man I was once engaged to, has already married, because otherwise I’m certain my parents would be trying to push us back together.

But I came back to America a different woman, and I think even they can sense that.

I found that I couldn’t live at home with them on my return, so I’ve found a lovely apartment to rent, with big sash windows and light-filled rooms, but it’s too big for me to rent alone and I can’t imagine living with anyone other than you.

Anyway, please know that I think of you often. I wanted to write you first, but as soon as I finish this I’m going to write to James. I only hope that he’s still there to receive it, because if I’m honest, I miss him almost as much as I miss you, and I have no idea how I will ever see him again.

With all my love,

Avery.

By the time she finished the letter, Camille had reached her shop, and she immediately knew what she had to do.

She checked there were no customers inside, since she’d left the door unlocked when she’d rushed out, turned the sign to ‘Closed’, locked the door and hurried back out on to the street, starting to run.

She went as fast as she could, down one street and then another, until she finally reached the square and saw the hotel ahead of her.

She slowed, trying to catch her breath and pushing her damp hair from her face, dashing up the steps and past the doorman, who thankfully didn’t ask any questions.

She went to the front desk. ‘I’m looking for a James Anderson,’ she said, trying not to pant.

‘He’s a guest here?’ the man asked.

‘Yes. I believe he’s checking out today, but I need to—’

‘Unfortunately, Mr Anderson has already gone.’

Her heart sunk. ‘You’re certain?’

The man nodded and looked as if he’d rather she left him alone.

‘Would you be able to check whether any mail arrived for him just now? There was a letter he was expecting, and I believe it might have only just been delivered.’

He gave her a long, uncertain look, before turning around and speaking to someone, who indicated a small stack of mail.

‘Please look,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s of the utmost importance that I know if he received it or not.’

The man held up a letter, and she could see from the beautiful writing on the back that it was from Avery. James had left without reading it, without even knowing that she’d written to him.

‘Do you have a forwarding address for him? Did he leave any information at all behind?’

Camille would have asked for the letter herself, but she knew there was no chance of private correspondence being given to her, no matter how nicely she asked.

‘Unfortunately no, there is no forwarding address for Mr Anderson.’

Camille nodded and turned around, walking slowly through the lobby, knowing there was nothing more she could have done. But just as she looked up to smile to the doorman, the glass door swung open and a familiar face met hers.

‘James!’

‘Camille? What are you doing here?’

‘She wrote to us, James. Avery didn’t forget us.’

His smile was as wide as hers.

‘There’s a letter waiting for me?’

She grinned. ‘There is.’

‘Lucky I forgot my coat then. I’d hate to miss a letter from my little American librarian.’

Camille stifled a laugh and placed her hand on his arm as she passed. ‘It was good to see you again, James. I have a feeling we might cross paths again one day.’

He gave her a wink. ‘I’m counting on it.’