Chapter 20 Frances
Frances
Paris
Marcus brought the next two books a week later. It was funny how I still started at the sight of him in his uniform, even though I knew he was playing a part.
At least, I hoped he was playing a part.
In my darker moments, I worried that he was setting me up – planting the ‘wrong’ books on my shelves just to expose my so-called crimes later.
But I was just a librarian, I reasoned with myself. No one – Nazi or otherwise – was interested in what I was doing.
‘Where do they think you’re going when you come to visit me?’ I asked as I led him up the stairs to the office. ‘The other Nazis?’
He didn’t reply and I kicked myself for being so indiscreet. When we got inside, he shut the door and went through his routine of checking for listening devices. And finally, he sat down.
‘I’m not a Nazi,’ he said.
‘I know.’
‘You said the other Nazis.’
I chuckled. ‘You know what I meant.’
‘I told them I’m checking to make sure there are no books on your shelves by Jews,’ he said. ‘Keeping an eye on things. I got a slap on the back from one of my officers the other day for being so committed.’
‘Lord. That won’t draw attention to us, will it?’
‘No, I think they’re relieved I’ve taken on this supposed task, so they don’t have to.’
I nodded.
Marcus looked at me.
‘They know about your Soldiers’ Book Service, of course,’ he said.
‘That’s approved by the Bibliotheksschutz,’ I told him. ‘It’s approved by the guy who’s overseeing all the libraries in occupied territories. Dr Fischer.’
‘I’ve heard about him.’
‘I knew him from before the war,’ I said. ‘I admired him then …’
I let my words trail off as I considered that my admiration for Dr Fischer was waning since he’d started working for the Nazis.
‘I understand.’ Marcus took a breath. ‘Lord, how things have changed.’
He sounded breezy but his voice shook on the last word. I looked at him, sitting in my office in his imposing uniform, his black boots on the floor where I sorted books for Jewish Parisians, and I felt my palms begin to sweat.
‘Marcus,’ I began. ‘We are not simply organising the Soldiers’ Book Service from here.’
‘Go on.’
Hoping I wasn’t making a huge mistake and putting us all in danger, I said in a rush: ‘We deliver books to the Jewish people who aren’t allowed to use the library anymore.’
There was a pause.
‘We?’
‘Me, and my assistants Sylvie and Guy, and his friend Alain. On bicycles.’
Marcus widened his eyes. ‘I had London check you out,’ he said. ‘This wasn’t mentioned.’
I allowed myself a small smile. ‘We seem to go unnoticed for the most part, thankfully. No one thinks books are important. But they are.’
‘How long have you been doing this?’
‘Since the Nazis came. We did our first deliveries that same week.’
‘Well, I never,’ Marcus said, shaking his head and letting out a small laugh. ‘Well, I never.’
‘That’s why I don’t want any attention drawn to us,’ I said. ‘And Alain …’
‘What about Alain?’
‘He might be full of hot air, but he claims he works with the Resistance, so if he were arrested, other things could fall apart.’
‘Understood,’ Marcus said. ‘It gives me hope, you know?’
‘The Resistance?’
‘Yes, absolutely them. But also these tiny acts of insurrection. Imagine people like us, all over France and Belgium and the other occupied territories. Sharing stories, keeping records, fighting back. That’s what gives me hope.’
‘That’s why your books are important,’ I said, feeling a little tearful all of a sudden. I blinked a few times to gather myself. ‘I’ve read every word of the first one you brought. It’s not an easy read. But these stories need to be told. You are doing a good thing.’
‘I just hope one day the right people get to read them.’
‘Did you bring another?’
‘I brought two.’
He opened his bag and pulled out the two latest volumes, this time entitled Flora and Fauna of Bavaria and Flora and Fauna of Austria.
‘I’ll keep them safe.’ I picked them up and examined the neat covers. ‘You’ve done a lovely job. They look professionally made.’
Marcus’s eyes gleamed with pride.
‘And I mended the binding on this one,’ he said, handing over the book that had been ripped and was now beautifully repaired.
‘Goodness, you are a man of many talents.’
‘Book binding and posing as a Nazi,’ Marcus said with a chuckle.
‘Both vitally important,’ I said. I slid the books into the bookshelf, keeping all three of the Flora and Fauna editions separate so they didn’t attract attention.
‘I actually have some other business to talk to you about.’
‘Really?’ I was surprised and apprehensive. ‘What is it?’
‘I’ve had word from London about a project that you can help with.’
I pushed a bit of hair out of my eyes. ‘I’m not sure I can be much help with anything.’
‘Trust me, this absolutely requires a woman of your talents.’
Narrowing my eyes at him, I leaned forward. ‘What is it?’
‘I believe you know a woman called Beatrice Allen?’
‘Beatrice?’ I was surprised. ‘Yes, I worked with her years ago and we’ve kept in touch since. Very clever woman. She’s in Lisbon now. I always think of her when I see the road signs for Rue de Lisbonne.’
‘She is.’ Marcus paused. ‘And she is also working with British intelligence.’
‘Really?’ I found the idea didn’t surprise me one bit. ‘I’d heard she was helping with refugees.’
‘Oh, I believe she has her fingers in quite a few pies.’
That didn’t surprise me either.
‘What do you need me to help with?’
‘Allen has been involved in a few things, but because of her, a team working in Lisbon heard about your Soldiers’ Book Service. That team is working on smoothing the progress of downed airmen and lost soldiers along the escape lines.’
‘Good lord,’ I said. ‘I thought those escape lines were just a rumour.’
‘They’re very real, and top secret, obviously,’ said Marcus. ‘The Resistance are working hard to keep it that way.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t really understand what this has to do with me,’ I said, still none the wiser as to how a librarian in Paris could help a lost airman in the French countryside.
Marcus outlined a scheme the team was working on. It seemed they had hidden addresses of safe houses in bookshop stamps which they were putting on special editions of Peacock Books.
‘Shakespeare & Co here in Paris stamp their name on all the books they sell,’ I told Marcus.
‘Indeed, it’s common.’ He nodded. ‘It’s simple and clever. The Peacock books fit in uniform pockets. It’s a perfect way to ensure the forces know where to go if the worst happens.’
‘And where do I come in?’
‘They are distributing books to all the soldiers and airmen in training, but they want to get more books out there,’ Marcus explained. ‘They thought your Book Service could be the perfect way to get them to hospitals and soldiers who are already on the frontline.’
‘I see.’
‘Would you be agreeable?’
‘In theory, but I’ve got barely any staff, and we’re stretched as it is.’
‘It shouldn’t be much additional work,’ Marcus said. ‘The books will come from London – stamped already – and you’d just add them to your own donations.’
‘Our Soldiers’ Book Service has the approval of the Nazis,’ I said.
‘Yes.’
I smiled, amused at the thought of using my Nazi-approved scheme to help their enemies.
‘I’ll help.’
‘I need to get London to check everyone who’ll be working on the project. Will it be Guy? And the others? Do you trust them?’
I thought about it. ‘I trust Guy, absolutely.’
‘Sylvie?’
‘She is young, but she is furious about the occupation. She has fire in her belly.’
‘Controllable?’
I screwed my face up, thinking hard. ‘I believe so.’
‘That’s fine. What about Alain? You say he’s working with the Resistance?’
‘He is boastful and I think he is too pleased with himself,’ I told him. ‘I’ve had my suspicions about how trustworthy he really is – but he’s in this with us now.’
‘I will add him to the list.’ Marcus nodded. ‘London will find out what we need to know. Though it may take a few days for the people there to make their checks.’
‘That’s fine.’ I felt a wave of relief that I’d finally know the truth about Alain.
‘Anything else you need to know?’
‘Is it safe?’
‘Is anything?’
I paused.
‘I guess not.’ I stretched out my arm and shook Marcus by the hand across the desk.
‘Count me in,’ I said.