The Last Library Paris Kept Open

Prologue Cassie

Prologue

Cassie

Lisbon

I kicked off my shoes as soon as I got through the front door, my feet aching from dancing, and flicked on a lamp.

It was warm in the apartment, stuffy with the heat of the day.

So, swaying slightly, I made my way across to the window and pulled it open.

Outside was a small balcony – too narrow to sit on.

Wanting fresh air, I clambered onto the wide windowsill instead, with my stockinged feet resting on the tiles of the balcony.

Lisbon spread out in front of me. To my left the streets wound up to the castle. Ahead of me, I could see the inky black of the river. And to my right, was the Bairro Alto – the upper neighbourhood of the city, where fado songs drifted out into the night.

I sighed, content. It was late now and Lisbon was in darkness, but the lights of the city shone like the fireflies I’d seen once on a summer night in France, before the war.

‘We did it,’ I said quietly to myself. ‘We bloody did it.’

The chap who’d telephoned from London with the news had been calm, measured even. Unemotional.

‘Say that again, please?’ I’d said, trying to keep my voice level as I looked at Digby across the desk. ‘I think there was some interference on the line.’

‘Three hundred and thirty-eight thousand troops rescued from Dunkirk,’ he said. ‘Well done. Bloody good job.’

I had swallowed. ‘So, what now?’ I asked. ‘What happens next?’

‘Well, I think you could allow yourself a small celebration.’

I smiled. We’d definitely celebrated. That was why my head was spinning in this rather disconcerting way.

‘And after that?’

‘It’s back to business as usual.’

‘Which means …’

‘You go back to your desk and await further orders.’

Remembering those words now, I leaned against the window frame and watched the lights of Lisbon twinkling beneath me. What was next for us?