Page 110 of The Last Library of Paris

‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘We’ve done it.’

‘It might smoulder,’ Guy said.

‘It might,’ I agreed. ‘But we have to go before the Germans come back.’

Sylvie and Marcus were talking urgently over Alain. Sylvie was putting pressure on Alain’s shoulder, leaning over him.

‘We really need to get out of here,’ I said. ‘Can we move him?’

Sylvie looked up. ‘It will be hard to move him without him bleeding.’

‘How about if we don’t move him far?’ I said.

Everyone gazed at me hopefully.

‘We’ve got a cellar,’ I said.

Guy was looking at me in astonishment. ‘It’s full of bugs and cobwebs.’

I shook my head. ‘It was,’ I said. ‘I cleared it out when the Nazis came. I thought it was a good idea in case there were bombs. Let’s go down there, just for now, while we work out what to do.’

There was a pause.

‘Let’s go,’ said Marcus.

It wasn’t easy, but with the help of another curtain – one that wasn’t singed and smouldering – we managed to get Alain lifted off the ground and cradled in a makeshift sling that we all held between us.

‘That’s it,’ I said, as we went. ‘Careful. Mind his head.’

I led the way round, beneath the staircase and through a door that you could easily overlook if you didn’t know it was there.

With considerable effort, we got Alain down the stone stairs and into the cellar, where the cold, dank air greeted us. There were some ventilation bricks high up in the walls, so it wasn’t pitch black, and in the dim light we managed to get Alain onto the camp bed in the corner. He moaned softly as we lay him down, which I took as a good sign.

I found some candles I’d stashed and lit them.

‘What is this place?’ said Sylvie, looking round. ‘Did you do all this?’

‘I like to be prepared.’ I lit another candle. ‘There are blankets, and there is some food but not much.’

‘This is great,’ Sylvie said. ‘It’s a good hiding place.’

‘We will need it when they come back,’ I said.

Guy was getting Alain comfortable, taking off his shoes and socks and tucking him under a blanket. Now he looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear.

‘What will we do?’ he said. ‘What is going to happen?’

I looked at Marcus, who was standing bare-chested and pale faced in his blood-soaked trousers, his eyes flickering around the room. He looked quite close to panic, and I wasn’t surprised. With icy-cold certainty I realised that I was the one in charge now.

‘Guy,’ I said, surprising myself with how calm my voice was. ‘Do you have any clothes here?’

‘Here?’ He looked blank.

‘In the library. Do you or Alain have an overnight bag?’ I gave him a small smile that I hoped conveyed understanding. ‘For those evenings when you, erm, stay elsewhere?’

Guy nodded slowly. ‘I do. It’s upstairs in the office.’

‘Good,’ I said, glancing at Marcus, who was beginning to shiver. ‘We’ll need that.’