Page 54 of The Last Library of Paris

‘So, what’s the good news?’ I asked.

‘We’re up and running.’ Edith picked up a folder and brandished it aloft like she’d won a trophy.

‘I’ve got twenty names from my sister.’

‘That’s astonishing.’

‘The academics she knows seem to be chomping at the bit to help.’

‘Well, good for them.’

‘And the Quakers, god love them, have come up trumps.’

‘As ever.’ I took a breath. ‘It’s not too late to stop this,’ I said. ‘If you’re having any doubts at all.’

Edith hit me on the arm with her folder. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘That’s what I’d hoped you’d say.’

‘As we said, I will need help with the application forms. I can process them all but just filling them in takes time.’

‘Of course. And I’m sure Lara and Bea will help if we need them.’

‘Even better.’ Edith glanced at her wristwatch. ‘Heavens, look at the time. I must get back for the dogs. Poor things will be starving.’

‘We could start after work tomorrow.’

‘Perfect.’

Edith put the folder in her desk drawer and locked it. Then we both gathered our belongings and she unlocked the door, then locked it again behind us.

‘Are you going my way?’ she asked. We lived fairly close to each other and sometimes travelled to and from work together. But I shook my head.

‘I’m going to go and see Lara.’

‘Righto,’ Edith said cheerfully. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’

We went our separate ways, and I got on a tram, heading down the hill to the British Bar. I knew Lara was working there today and I wanted to fill her in on everything.

She was, as I’d hoped, behind the bar. But when I arrived, her eyes widened and she didn’t look pleased to see me, as I’d hoped she would.

‘Sit over there,’ she said, nodding to an empty table tucked in the corner between the bar and the window. ‘I’ll bring a drink over.’

I sat down, annoyed that from where I was I couldn’t see the whole room. I’d been trained to always choose a seat that provided the best view of a place. I was just about to get up and move to another table when Lara appeared. She stood in front of me and put a drink down.

‘Gosh, Lara, you’re blocking my view.’

‘I know.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘It’s deliberate.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that chap’s here. The one we’ve both seen near the shop.’

‘Steven Parrish?’ I felt a flutter of nerves. ‘Who’s he with?’

‘Just on his own, drinking a beer. It might be coincidence, but …’

‘I don’t believe in coincidences,’ I finished for her. It was one of my favourite sayings when I trained new teams to be alert about people they saw.