Page 117 of The Last Library of Paris

‘Sorry to bother you,’ she said. ‘But I wasn’t sure who to speak to. He was asking for Digby, but I can’t find him.’

‘Who?’ I said. ‘Who’s asking for Digby?’

‘There’s a chap downstairs,’ she said. ‘He’s in a right state. His clothes don’t fit him right and he keeps waving a book at me. He’s in a bad way so it’s hard to make sense of what he’s saying, but he’s British.’

Henry and I looked at each other. I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. Was it an airman?

‘Where is he now?’ I asked.

‘I took him to the medical room,’ Trisha said.

‘We have a medical room?’ Henry raised his eyebrows.

‘Usually people use it as a place to sneak a nap when they’ve had a big night out,’ I said. I turned to Trish. ‘Is someone getting Julia?’

‘Yes, she’s with him.’

‘And Julia is?’ Henry frowned.

‘She’s the nurse, though she also works in the personnel department because there isn’t much for her to do, usually.’

‘Of course,’ said Henry. ‘That makes perfect sense.’

‘Lead the way, Trish,’ I said, even though we were already moving. Together we hurried down to the little medical room where a man was lying on the bed. Julia was sitting next to him writing something on a chart.

‘He’s not at all well, so he’ll be taken to hospital as soon as someone can pick him up,’ she said when we walked in. ‘I’ve patched him up best as I could for now, but I think he’s been shot, and the wound looks infected.’

‘Do you know his name?’ I asked. The man looked small in the bed, his face drawn and pale.

‘Marcus,’ said Julia. ‘But no surname.’

I stifled a gasp as Henry and I exchanged glances again, and I nodded.

‘Could you give us a minute?’

‘I can but it has to only be a minute,’ she said sternly. ‘He’s really not well.’

She left the room, closing the door behind her and I went to the side of the bed.

‘Marcus?’ I said softly. ‘My name’s Cassie and this is Henry. We sent the books to Paris.’

Marcus opened his eyes and looked right at me. ‘Frances,’ he said.

Henry breathed in deeply next to me. ‘Have you come all the way from Paris?’ he said. ‘How did you get here?’

‘Resistance,’ Marcus said softly.

‘Do you know if Frances is safe?’ I asked.

‘They need help,’ Marcus said. His breathing was uneven, and it was clearly hard for him to talk. I didn’t want to push him, but I needed to know more.

‘Is Frances still in Paris?’ I said. ‘Where is she?’

‘Library.’

‘She’s in the library?’ I gave Henry a puzzled glance. ‘But we thought …’

‘Is Frances hiding?’ Henry asked. ‘Where is she hiding?’