Page 132 of The Last Library of Paris

Frances

Paris

We stayed in the basement for ten days. It was not pretty. Sylvie did her best looking after Alain, but with limited medical supplies it was a hard task.

We managed to get some food and the water was still running so we weren’t in a terrible mess. But it was cramped and stuffy, we were scared, Alain was sick … It wasn’t a lot of fun.

The first night, Alain was delirious with fever. Sylvie put the sulfa powder on his wound. The bullet had gone right through his shoulder – in one side and out the other. Which Sylvie assured us was good because it meant she didn’t have to dig out a bullet. The thought made me shiver. We found the library first-aid kit, and Sylvie dressed the wounds.

‘I’ve done what I can,’ she said.

As Alain shivered and sweated his way through that first night, Guy was clearly terrified that he was going to die. He sat by his bedside, while Sylvie and I took a moment to get water.

‘I really thought Alain had saved Guy,’ I said. ‘I feel like I can’t trust my own eyes and ears now.’

Sylvie picked up a jug. ‘Maybe he did,’ she said. ‘We will never know for sure. But I know the bottle was on the stairs and then it was beside me on the floor.’

I gave her a tiny smile. ‘If Alain did mean to save Guy, he’ll tell everyone about it,’ I pointed out.

‘If he didn’t mean it, he’ll tell everyone he did,’ said Sylvie wryly.

‘Lord, I hope someone comes soon.’ I cast my eyes up to the sky, even though I didn’t really believe in God. ‘I just don’t know what to do for the best.’

‘How long will it take Marcus to reach Lisbon?’ Sylvie asked.

‘I have no idea,’ I admitted. ‘A few days if he knows people with a car? Weeks? We don’t even know if he’ll make it.’

Sylvie nodded. ‘We should set a deadline,’ she said. ‘If he hasn’t come back after what? Ten days?’

‘Sounds about right.’

‘Then we move.’

‘If Alain is better by then.’

‘Of course.’ She stepped closer to me and lowered her voice. ‘If his fever breaks soon, then I think he will be all right. If not, then …’

I didn’t want to think about how we’d deal with that. So for now, I just nodded.

The first night, Sylvie and I took it in turns to sleep in the basement, while the other kept watch from the offices upstairs, checking the street to make sure no one was coming. I was absolutely convinced the Nazis would return to finish the job. But no one came that night. Guy wouldn’t leave Alain’s side.

When it got light, I left my vantage point in the office and made my way back downstairs where I found Guy asleep, draped over Alain’s legs, and Sylvie reading Margery Allingham.

‘This is very good,’ she said.

‘I told you.’

Alain groaned a little and we both looked at him. Sylvie got up and put her hand to his forehead.

‘He is cool,’ she said in English. ‘I think he is out of the forest.’

‘The woods,’ I said, laughing through sheer relief. ‘He’s out of the woods.’

Guy stirred and Sylvie nudged him. ‘Alain’s fever has gone.’

Guy didn’t speak. He pinched his lips together and squeezed Alain’s hand.

Alain improved but it was slow-going. Sylvie tried to ration the painkillers, and he slept a lot. Guy slept next to him. It would have been sweet if I wasn’t still in two minds about Alain’s true nature.