Page 9 of The Secret Librarian

Chapter Five

Avery

Dear Jack,

You won’t believe it, but I’m onboard a plane right now and I’m flying to Lisbon, Portugal!

I know war isn’t an overseas adventure, even though sometimes you make it sound like you’re just away travelling with a bunch of new friends, but this feels enormous to me.

My parents barely spoke to me when I went home for the week before flying out; I think they thought that if they gave me the silent treatment they might guilt me into staying.

But honestly, Jack? Nothing was going to make me stay.

I thought the IDC had the wrong person in the beginning, but I can see now that everything has led to this point.

All my studies, my job, it was all worth it.

The worst part was calling things off with Michael, and even though I knew we weren’t right for each other, it still broke my heart seeing how upset he was.

It was like he couldn’t begin to imagine how or why I didn’t want to get married.

Then my mother had the worst idea to invite him over for dinner just before I left, which was incredibly uncomfortable for everyone, but at least I was able to give him back the engagement ring.

Anyway, it’s over now, and I hope he meets some lovely girl who adores him and can’t wait to be his wife.

Because this is going to be the adventure of a lifetime for me, and nothing is going to stop me from making the most of every second.

Even if I’m so nervous I actually think I could be sick on my shoes right now!

With all my love. I wish I could see you. Avery.

PS Don’t forget to write me back!

Avery folded the letter and placed it in an envelope, tucking it into her bag and then settling back into her seat. She tried not to grip the armrests too tightly, smiling at the woman next to her when she felt her gaze.

‘I can’t even imagine how this thing is going to land on water,’ Avery muttered as she turned to peer out the small window and looked at the long wingspan of the plane, wondering if the propellers ever stopped turning.

‘Relax, Pan Am does this flight every other week,’ the woman said, gently patting her hand and making her laugh. ‘I’m sure they have an excellent safety record.’

Avery glanced at her. ‘You’re sure ? That doesn’t sound very convincing!’

The woman shrugged. ‘Nothing we can do about it now other than sit back and enjoy ourselves.’

Avery sighed. She supposed that was her only option at this stage, although she did wonder how everyone else onboard seemed so relaxed, as if they travelled by air regularly.

‘Come on, it looks like we’re being served dinner, and then the beds will be turned down for us.’

Avery unbuckled her seat belt and followed the woman’s lead, walking past a group of men smoking, the haze lingering around them and making her cough a little, before they made their way through to the lounge where dinner was being served.

It was like nothing she could have imagined before, although she’d probably never considered what it would be like to fly in the first place.

There were luxurious seats, a dressing room and restrooms, as well as the lounge, dining room and sleeping areas.

It was far more luxurious than her house in New York, and she knew that it was an experience she’d never, ever forget, not to mention one she’d never have been able to afford if the IDC hadn’t been paying for the fare.

‘How long until we arrive in Horta in the Azores?’ Avery asked the stewardess as she took her seat at the table.

‘Long enough to eat a six-course meal and have a lovely long sleep. We’ll be landing before you know it.’

Avery did sit back as she was served her first plate, marvelling at the fine china being used and the petite bread roll placed to one side.

Suddenly she didn’t care how long it would take to complete the first leg of the flight to Portugal; all she could think about was the delicious smell of warm ham wafting up from her plate.

I’d better not get used to this.

‘Would you like a drink?’ the stewardess asked.

Avery was almost tempted to order a whisky, imagining that the strong liquor might help her to sleep.

‘Coke, please,’ she said firmly.

‘Honey, it’s not every day you’re onboard a Boeing 314 Clipper. You sure I can’t tempt you with champagne?’

Given how uncertain she was about the big plane staying in the air, she had a feeling she might need to keep her wits about her in case she needed to don a life jacket and leap into the ice-cold water below.

Just the thought alone sent a shiver through her.

But the idea of champagne was tempting – she’d only been offered it once before, at a cousin’s wedding.

Avery sighed. She doubted anything would save her if the plane came down, anyway. ‘Just a half glass,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t want to get tipsy in the air.’

By the end of the second leg of her flight to Lisbon, Avery was ready to stretch her legs and get off the plane, regardless of how luxurious the trip had been.

She’d eaten so much food she thought she might pop, been tucked into bed by a stewardess with as much care as a mother would her own child, and eaten a breakfast fit for royalty, not to mention slept like the dead, thanks to the second glass of champagne she’d consumed with dinner.

And now the plane was beginning to lower, the sound of the engine changing as they descended towards the water for landing, and she tightened her seat belt and held on to the armrest.

She’d already experienced it once when they landed in Horta, where a handful of passengers had disembarked, but this time felt bumpier and Avery wished she hadn’t eaten quite so much for breakfast as her stomach began to lurch.

But soon they were hitting the water, not quite the seamless glide of the first time but still bearable, and taxiing towards the floating pontoon.

Avery had her nose almost pressed to the window, trying to glimpse as much of Lisbon as possible, and felt so relieved they’d made it without incident.

She’d been shown photos and given maps during her time in Washington DC, but they’d all been taken pre-war and she imagined that the city would have changed somewhat since then.

It was almost impossible to see anything other than the water and some buildings in the distance though, try as she might.

‘It’s time to go,’ a pretty stewardess said, gesturing for her to follow. ‘I’ll help you off and your bags will be taken from the cargo hold and waiting for you on the pontoon.’

Avery stood and followed, thanking the stewardess and about to say something else when she arrived at the plane’s door.

Her jaw dropped. The first thing that struck her was how strikingly blue the water was, and the second was how different the air smelt in Portugal compared to home.

It was somehow fresh and salty at the same time, and she might have stood and stared all day if the stewardess hadn’t touched the small of her back and urged her forward.

‘It’s quite something to see for the first time, isn’t it?’ she murmured.

Avery nodded in agreement. It was quite something, alright, and somehow not at all as she’d imagined.

She collected her bags, pleased she’d followed the advice given to her during training not to pack more than she could carry herself, although it was certainly still a lot to lug on her own. Now all I need to do is find my way to the apartment.

An hour later, Avery’s hair was sticking to her face and the perspiration on her body was making her feel as if she was very much out of her depth, not to mention reminding her that she was in a foreign country with a completely unfamiliar climate.

She stood outside the address she’d been given, scrawled on a piece of paper that she’d been told to dispose of once she’d found her way, staring up at the two-storey building and hoping it was the right place.

It was nondescript, with a number etched into the concrete outside, and she double-checked the address on the wall yet again.

She hadn’t been given a key, only the address, and her greatest fear was that she’d end up stranded, waiting for the inhabitants to get home.

Hoping very much that wasn’t the case, Avery knocked, and then waited.

Tears began to well in her eyes when no one answered, and she stepped forward and knocked again, refusing to crumble now.

They picked you for a reason, Avery Johnson. Don’t give anyone a reason to think you’re not fit for the job by whimpering at the first hurdle. You’re made of stronger stuff and you know it.

It was almost as if she could hear her cousin Jack in her mind, spurring her on, telling her that she was made for this.

He’d never been happy about her marrying Michael, not because he didn’t like him but because he knew how much she wanted to travel and see the world before even thinking about becoming a wife.

Well, this is my chance. If I have to sit out here in the damn sunshine for the rest of the day waiting, then so be it.

This one moment doesn’t define my entire adventure.

‘Hello?’

The door swinging open and the man’s face appearing took her by surprise just as she was about to turn her back and plonk herself down on the concrete step. She quickly ran her hands down her skirt, hoping she didn’t look too dishevelled after so long travelling.

‘Ahh, I’m Avery. I was told you’d be expecting me.’

He ran his fingers through his hair, which made it stick up even more. He was American, perhaps a little older than her, and she noticed how bloodshot his eyes were, and wondered if he might be unwell or had just gotten out of bed, despite the advanced hour.

‘ You’re the new microfilm man?’ He looked thoroughly confused. ‘From the IDC?’