Page 74 of The Last Library of Paris

‘Well, I never,’ Marcus said, shaking his head and letting out a small laugh. ‘Well, I never.’

‘That’s why I don’t want any attention drawn to us,’ I said. ‘And Alain …’

‘What about Alain?’

‘He might be full of hot air, but he claims he works with the Resistance, so if he were arrested, other things could fall apart.’

‘Understood,’ Marcus said. ‘It gives me hope, you know?’

‘The Resistance?’

‘Yes, absolutely them. But also these tiny acts of insurrection. Imagine people like us, all over France and Belgium and the other occupied territories. Sharing stories, keeping records, fighting back. That’s what gives me hope.’

‘That’s why your books are important,’ I said, feeling a little tearful all of a sudden. I blinked a few times to gather myself. ‘I’ve read every word of the first one you brought. It’s not an easy read. But these stories need to be told. You are doing a good thing.’

‘I just hope one day the right people get to read them.’

‘Did you bring another?’

‘I brought two.’

He opened his bag and pulled out the two latest volumes, this time entitled Flora and Fauna of Bavaria and Flora and Fauna of Austria.

‘I’ll keep them safe.’ I picked them up and examined the neat covers. ‘You’ve done a lovely job. They look professionally made.’

Marcus’s eyes gleamed with pride.

‘And I mended the binding on this one,’ he said, handing over the book that had been ripped and was now beautifully repaired.

‘Goodness, you are a man of many talents.’

‘Book binding and posing as a Nazi,’ Marcus said with a chuckle.

‘Both vitally important,’ I said. I slid the books into the bookshelf, keeping all three of the Flora and Fauna editions separate so they didn’t attract attention.

‘I actually have some other business to talk to you about.’

‘Really?’ I was surprised and apprehensive. ‘What is it?’

‘I’ve had word from London about a project that you can help with.’

I pushed a bit of hair out of my eyes. ‘I’m not sure I can be much help with anything.’

‘Trust me, this absolutely requires a woman of your talents.’

Narrowing my eyes at him, I leaned forward. ‘What is it?’

‘I believe you know a woman called Beatrice Allen?’

‘Beatrice?’ I was surprised. ‘Yes, I worked with her years ago and we’ve kept in touch since. Very clever woman. She’s in Lisbon now. I always think of her when I see the road signs for Rue de Lisbonne.’

‘She is.’ Marcus paused. ‘And she is also working with British intelligence.’

‘Really?’ I found the idea didn’t surprise me one bit. ‘I’d heard she was helping with refugees.’

‘Oh, I believe she has her fingers in quite a few pies.’

That didn’t surprise me either.