“No need to apologize, Solange,” Monsieur Armel said, lifting his hand from the table slightly in a gesture to assure me. “Solomon and I have just been talking, that’s all.”
Solomon looked up and managed a small smile in my direction. Since the Seder at the Armels’, we no longer looked at each other as awkward strangers, but as members of the extended Armel family. He had even written a condolence card to me, expressing his regrets when Marthe died.
Between his fingers, Solomon clasped an envelope containing a few francs. I suspected Monsieur Armel was still trying to help support his one and only employee, who had a wife and children to feed. He quickly slipped it into his breast pocket as if ashamed.
“I should be going, Bernard.” Solomon stood up and began collecting his things.
“Give Rachel and the children a kiss for me,” Monsieur Armel said, patting him on the back. “And don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere without the world’s best book restorer. We will all leave here together, I promise you.”
After Solomon left, Monsieur Armel returned to his seat and placed his head in his hands.
52.
May 1940
Ihave a proposition for you,” Monsieur Armel said. “I have not told Alex about it yet, as he would never have permitted me to ask you.”
“Yes, you can ask me anything,” I told him. “I’m forever indebted to your kindness to me.”
“Let us speak no longer of any debt, Solange. Your grandmother saved my son, so I am the one who will always be indebted to you. But now we have more immediate matters to address, and time is of the essence. Every day that passes, the Germans get that much closer to Paris. I don’t want to be caught in a situation where it’s too late.”
I folded my hands in my lap and waited to hear what Monsieur Armel had to say. “You may ask me anything. With my father away, I feel as though you and Alex are the closest thing to family I have now.”
“I have written to every contact I have, in the hope that I can sell my remaining inventory. But everyone seems to share the sameproblem as me. All the best Jewish book dealers are trying to liquidate their libraries to get out of Europe.”
I was puzzled. “But how can I help?”
Monsieur Armel clasped his hands together, and I saw his knuckles turn white. He was clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say.
“Do you remember meeting a gentleman by the name of Frédéric Clavel the other day, when you were having coffee with Alex?”
I nodded.
“Well, he came by yesterday. He told me he knows about a particular dealer that is interested in purchasing your Barcelona Haggadah.”
I sat quietly for a moment, soaking in his words.
“He does?”
“Yes. Evidently, he had seen it years ago, just as I had, when it was still in your grandfather’s possession. He knows how rare and valuable it is, even if he didn’t let on when Alex mentioned it at the café.”
I hesitated for a moment. “Well, in fact, he did ask me there and then if I was interested in selling it.”
“And if my information is correct, you told him you weren’t.”
“Yes, that’s right. Luckily, Alex spoke on my behalf.”
Monsieur Armel smiled. “I’m sure he did. And I’m sure he conveyed to Monsieur Clavel that if you weren’t willing to sell to us, why would you sell to him?”
“Exactly.”
“But what if your book could get us all out of France?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“The amount of money Clavel says the dealer is willing to pay would be, shall we say,considérable.”
He paused after emphasizing that last word, and then looked down at the table briefly before lifting his eyes toward me.
