Page 105 of The Last Library of Paris

‘Digby, I’m so sorry about all this,’ I said.

He gave me a sharp look. ‘I do not want to hear you saying sorry for a situation this worthless man forced you into,’ he said. ‘In fact, if you apologise once more, I’ll send you back to clerical.’

Chastened and very relieved, I sat back in my chair, glancing at Henry, who looked amused.

‘There is no doubt that this is a problem,’ Digby said. ‘Parrish’s little outburst has compromised our contacts in Paris. Valentine – and others – are working hard to make sure he hasn’t damaged the escape routes.’

‘Parrish knew Frances Reed was helping airmen escape, but he didn’t know how,’ I said. I’d gone over and over our conversation in the office since we discovered Parrish had been listening. ‘We didn’t actually mention the books, we just said she was distributing information.’

Digby nodded. ‘That’s what Valentine said, too.’

Archie and I had discussed that, but I didn’t say so.

‘The French have good measures in place to ensure the safety of the lines,’ said Digby.

‘Good,’ I said. ‘That is good news.’

‘In the meantime, we’re trying to send communications to our agent in Paris. The chap who’s been liaising with Frances Reed at the library.’

‘We need to get to them before the Nazis do,’ Henry said.

Digby made a steeple of his fingers. ‘I know.’

‘God, this is awful,’ I said. ‘Poor Frances’s life is at risk and she doesn’t even know.’

‘We have good people in Paris,’ said Digby. ‘Brave people. And they are doing everything they can to get to them before the Nazis do.’

‘So what can we do?’ I said.

‘I’m afraid the only thing we can do now is wait.’

Chapter 29

Frances

Paris

I was reading one of Marcus’s Flora and Fauna books when he arrived at the library. The tales they contained were shocking, too harrowing to read in one go. I turned to them in tiny doses, feeling it was important to know what was happening.

The books all included times, dates and names of the people who’d taken part in these atrocities. Some of the names had been added by Marcus himself later, after he had done some investigations of his own. Being part of the Nazis gave him access to people and records that others didn’t have. I thought the books were vitally important evidence that could bring the worst criminals to justice after the war. And I thought Marcus was astonishingly bold and incredibly brave for writing them.

But I hadn’t known he was coming today. If I had, I would have arranged for him to come when I was alone. But this visit was unexpected. And so, he came into my office followed by Sylvie, Guy and Alain. All three of them had faces like thunder.

Things had been tense among the four of us since I’d shouted at Alain and the others had stuck up for him. But strangely we were all working hard. We’d sent out all of the blue Peacock books, and our Parisian deliveries were still happening regularly. I’d written up my own stories – told to me by our readers – and Marcus had taken them away to add to his own books.

Things, I’d thought, were going well. But now Marcus was here in my office, in his Nazi uniform, his expression unreadable.

‘What is it?’ I said. I put the book down and stood up. ‘Has something happened?’

‘He just walked in like he owns the place,’ said Sylvie from behind Marcus. She sounded suspicious. ‘He knew where your office is.’

I looked at Marcus and he gave me a tiny nod. ‘Go ahead,’ he said in English. ‘Tell them.’

All three of the others started at his accent.

‘But …’ I began, glancing at Alain. Marcus shrugged. ‘Go ahead,’ he said.

‘Marcus is British,’ I said. ‘He is British but he is a sleeper agent with the Nazis. It was he who contacted me about sending out the Peacock books. They contain important information for lost airmen and soldiers.’