Page 83 of The Last Library of Paris

He shook his head. ‘The damndest bad luck. I had measles as a boy. Left me with some damage to my hearing, so joining up was out of the question.’

‘You have trouble hearing?’ I said, closing my eyes briefly.

‘No, not completely. I have trouble when people are on my bad side.’ He touched his right ear with his forefinger. ‘I’m not good with background noise, so I sit away from the crowd.’

‘Impressive,’ I said, honestly. ‘You’ve adapted. Survival of the fittest.’

‘Yes.’ Archie nodded. ‘And I can lip-read like a bastard.’ He chuckled. ‘That’s what Don used to say. I could always see what the teachers at school were saying. And I knew all our parents’ secrets.’

‘Wilson,’ I said, slapping my hand to my forehead and feeling awful. ‘Did you mishear Watkins? Is that why you kept getting my name wrong?’

‘Well, yes,’ said Archie with a grin. ‘The first time.’

I laughed properly this time. ‘And you can lip-read, really?’

‘Really.’

‘That is an extraordinarily useful skill to have in our line of work.’

‘Isn’t it?’

I studied him for a second, wondering how I’d managed to misjudge him so badly and feeling a little guilty about it.

‘I was rather rude to you, at the beginning, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘Believe it or not I was nervous about starting this job, and then you blundered your way into the office, and took me by surprise.’

‘You should have told me about your hearing loss.’

‘I don’t like …’ He sighed. ‘I don’t want to be seen as weak.’

‘I hardly think that’s likely.’

‘I know people talk about why I’ve not joined up.’

‘Rubbish,’ I said, though I’d heard many embassy staff members wondering just that.

Archie gave a little smile. ‘I’ve seen them whispering about me. Talking about how I’ve been whizzing about Lisbon in my car, with pretty girls on my arm, living it up …’

‘When really you’re putting all your efforts into the escape routes?’

‘I have been. I’ve spent a lot of time in France and Spain the last few months. Lisbon is a break after all that. It feels like a treat.’

‘And the pretty girls?’ I asked. ‘Are they a treat?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I think you’ve been wining and dining the girls who know all the gossip. Like Penny. Making sure everything here is secure.’

He looked at me, his eyes amused, but he didn’t say if I was right.

I wasn’t finished. ‘Are the escapees going to come here? To Lisbon? Are we the last stop on the escape lines?’

‘You’ve got it.’ He sounded pleased that I’d worked it out. ‘We thought about routing them through Gibraltar first, but that’s dicey. So, Lisbon it is.’

I sat back in my chair.

‘And we wait?’

‘We do.’