Page 7 of The Last Library of Paris

‘I think he’s going to Bletchley,’ I said. ‘But Digby was infuriatingly vague when I asked him. Otto might have said more in his letters. He knew they wouldn’t be censored if he sent them with me.’

Lara looked a bit tearful. ‘But he’s all right, is he? He says he is, but it can’t be easy for him.’

‘He’s fine,’ I said. ‘Happy, in fact. I think he’s so glad to be away from the Nazis and working with the British, that he can deal with the rest.’

Lara nodded, hugging the letters to her chest.

‘And Hector?’ asked Bea. ‘How was he?’

‘Positively jovial,’ I said, remembering how our friend – who was more than just a friend to Bea – had seemed when I caught up with him. ‘He’s going to be allowed to practise medicine again.’

Bea clapped her hands together in joy. ‘Wonderful!’ she said.

‘What else did you do in London?’ Lara said. ‘Were you there for long?’

‘Not really,’ I admitted. ‘I just had to get away from the village for a few days, after the funeral. It was a little suffocating. I went to stay with a friend from school – Katie.’

‘Is London terribly battered?’ Bea asked.

‘Awful,’ I said. ‘But Katie lives out towards the west which wasn’t so badly bombed. Actually, Bea, you’d be interested in what she’s doing. She works for Peacock Books, you know?’

‘Of course,’ said Bea.

‘And you know how they do different colours of covers for the type of book it is – like green for crime, or orange for fiction? Well, now they’re doing a blue cover and guess what it’s for?’

Bea frowned. ‘History? Politics?’

‘It’s for soldiers,’ I said. ‘They’re doing special editions of books – they’re calling them services editions – and sending them out to the troops to keep them entertained. It’s being named the Forces Book Club.’

‘What makes them special?’ Lara asked.

‘They’re smaller, I think?’ I wasn’t completely sure. ‘So they fit in the pockets of their uniforms. And I think they’re choosing books that the forces will enjoy. Lots of requests for crime novels, apparently.’

‘What a wonderful idea,’ said Bea. ‘Peacock is a very innovative publisher, and books are the perfect antidote to the horrors of war. I’ll order a few for us to look at and admire.’

She looked from me to Lara, a little smile on her face. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘Would you like another cup of tea, or shall I open the port to celebrate you being back in Lisbon?’

I chuckled. ‘Need you ask?’

Chapter 2

Digby put me in the clerical department.

‘I know you hate typing, but there are some changes happening and you’ll have plenty of translating to do then,’ he said.

‘What changes?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘Nothing’s definite yet. You know how quickly things can fall apart. Plus, haven’t you always said the women in clerical know everything?’

I gave him a hard stare. ‘They do know everything,’ I said. ‘Especially how to type. Which is something missing from my list of talents.’

I wasn’t joking; I was terrible at typing. And even when I’d been doing nothing but typing for a week – despite Digby’s reassurances that it wouldn’t be for long – I hadn’t improved one jot.

Now I pulled the paper from the typewriter and stared at it in despair.

Dear Sir, I’d written.

Thank yuu for your letter dated May 111st …