Page 17 of The Librarian Spy

The bells chimed noon as Elaine approached the bookshop. As she did so, a woman with pale blond hair sauntered toward her, stylishly dressed in a white sweater and a knee-length navy skirt that matched the delicate brimless calot hat pinned primly to the crown of her head. Her red lips parted in a wide smile. “Elaine, ma chérie, it is so good to see you.”

To Elaine’s surprise, the pretty young woman embraced her and brushed a kiss on each cheek. Elaine did likewise, feigning familiarity so they appeared little more than old friends to anyone who might be observing them.

“Come join me for coffee.” Nicole clasped Elaine’s hand in hers. “Or at least what passes for coffee these days.” Her pale blue eyes twinkled, and she pulled Elaine close, leading her to a door beside the bookshop.

Nicole did not drop Elaine’s hand as they entered the courtyard and climbed a set of stairs. Instead, she gave Elaine’s fingers a squeeze. “We’ll teach you everything you need to ensure you stay safe, chérie.”

“Safe is nice, but I want to be effective,” Elaine countered.

Nicole grinned. “Denise is going to adore you.”

She stopped before an apartment door and pulled out a key. Her efforts appeared to take an inordinate amount of time as Elaine waited, nerves taut with anxiety to meet the other women she would be working with. To discover what it was she was even going to be doing. At last, the heavy door clicked open, and Nicole led Elaine inside.

The safe houses where Elaine had stayed were often empty rooms with a simple mattress and a few blankets. But here, the foyer held a homey, lived-in feel with several shoes tilting in a messy line against the wall and a battered armoire sitting stout in the corner with a round mirror over it for checking one’s hair before leaving.

Nicole kicked off her heels with a heavy clunk and dropped an inch in height before unpinning the smart hat and setting it aside, not a hair out of place. “She’s here,” she called out in a singsong voice and gave Elaine a wink.

Elaine deposited her shoes next to Nicole’s and followed her into the main living area. The space was exactly what one would expect, with gauzy white curtains draped over the windows and a cobalt blue settee framed by two butter-yellow chairs. But in the center of the room was a large table that held a typewriter, various slips of paper, several pencils, and what appeared to be scraps of silk. Two women bending over something on the cluttered surface looked up with interest.

The dark-haired one’s blithe gaze skimmed over Elaine, her demeanor entirely unwelcoming. The woman with light brown curls, however, gave a shy, gentle smile that instantly made Elaine like her.

“This is Denise.” Nicole nodded first to the dark-haired woman, then to the one with curls. “And Josette.”

Josette came around the table and clasped Elaine’s hands in her warm fingers. “We are so glad to have you join us, Elaine. And now I am no longer the newest member.”

Her cheeks flushed with color, and the kindness in her green eyes indicated her remark was not one of malice.

“You were enlisted by Gabriel?” Denise asked, using Etienne’s Resistance name.

“Oui,” Elaine replied as Josette released her hands.

Denise nodded slowly in what Elaine thought might be approval.

“Come now, Denise,” Nicole scolded. “Do not scare her off on her first day.”

Denise sniffed. “The Bosche will do that for her if her nerves are not strong enough.”

“My nerves are just fine no matter what the Germans do,” Elaine said before either of the other two women could try to rush to her aid. “Or I wouldn’t be here.”

Denise’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Elaine refused to be cowed by the directness of her assessing stare and lifted her chin in challenge.

“Then why are you standing there and not over here learning this code?” Denise shifted over to make room for Elaine at her side.

As she took her place beside Denise, her code crafting education with the Resistance officially began.

The process of breaking down and reconstructing the words was not an easy one. The foundation was based on a poem written over a hundred years ago, selecting words from the stanza to create a code that was then used to configurate the message. This was further complicated by the poem itself, which changed to a new poem every week.

“Don’t worry,” Josette said in Elaine’s ear as the confusing lesson came to an end. “I will show it to you again later.”

Elaine gave her a grateful nod.

“This is our typewriter.” Nicole indicated the glossy black Royal typewriter on the table with Aristocrat in gold letters on its shiny plate.

Elaine regarded the glass-faced keys, noting the unusual order. Most were in the same location she recognized from her years as a secretary, but the Q, W, A, Z, X, and M were in different places.

“It’s British,” Denise said matter-of-factly. “Many of the items we use in the Resistance are provided to us by British agents. Some of our courier work will even involve going to the outskirts of town where the Maquis will meet us with goods received from air drops.”

The Maquis, named for the underbrush in which they hid, were men who were too young to fight at the start of the war, but were ordered in recent months to relocate to factories in Germany to work for the compulsory labor service. Many opposed this rule and instead chose to live in the dense forests rather than be slaves for the Nazis. These men fell back on the guerrilla warfare tactics of their Frankish ancestors, using the land to their favor. And from what she gathered from the ladies, the British agents were there to help.