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Maybe the American planes had seen the telltale oil rising to the surface, prompting another boastful newspaper accountflashing across the front page with the subtlety of a bad dime novel:UNCLE SAM SINKS ANOTHER!andU-BOAT DISASTER AVERTED.
But Louise also knew that the U-boats were sinking American ships by the dozens, consigning valuable cargo—and the merchant mariners who crewed them—to the cold depths.
All the more reason average citizens needed to rise up and be useful. The Red Cross motto sprang to her mind: In War, Charity.
It had been years since she’d thought of that, ever since that fateful telegram from Father that kept her from joining the forces of nurses serving in the first world war. And now here she was, too old by a decade to be of use in this one either.
Don’t mope, she scolded herself, as she always did at the first tug of self-pity.If anything, this should be a reminder that there’s work to be done here too.
Louise had had nearly a quarter century to get used to the unease of being a spinster living alone in a large house—well, alone besides Delphie, her cook. Never before had Louise felt herself in danger at Windward Hall.
That was a consequence of war, she supposed. One couldn’t feel safe in one’s home, even if the major campaigns were an ocean away. And now war had come to even the shores of peaceful Derby.
two
AVIS
APRIL 2
When the wall clock by the history section ticked all the way to three, Avis sighed, staring ruefully at the plain black notebook lurking underneath the counter.
Only three entries today. That was something, at least. Ever since she’d instructed patrons to give their requests and come back the next day, the list had sometimes stretched to a half dozen or more.
How had Anthony kept up with it all?
Because he had a degree in library science and two staff members, she thought sourly.Not to mention me.
Thank the heavens for the Dewey decimal system. Without the card catalog to thumb through, she’d have been exposed for incompetence her first week on the job, lacking her brother’s near-magical gift of being able to select the right book for any obscure request.
She scanned her neat entries, always dutifully jotted down after the patron had left.
Mr. Watson wants a biography to find out how much ofThey Died with Their Boots Onis based on true events. Proceeded to detail the entire plot of the film.
Mrs. Bell needs to find a book she read as a schoolgirl.Title and author unknown, but it was “about fifty pages long with that famous George Washington painting on the cover.”
Carole Stevenson would like a book for a young girl that teaches the folly of laziness. Didn’t mention if this was prompted by the child slouched against the back wall, popping a bubble right next to the “No Chewing Gum Allowed” sign.
Begin with the easiest.A quick perusal of the catalog showed they had several volumes on George A. Custer and the Battle of Little Bighorn, and Avis drew out the ones with worn spines, indicating that several people had read them in the past.
She flipped through a few pages, comparing the text to the film’s poster. It seemed Mr. Watson would be disappointed to find out that Errol Flynn’s portrayal had not, in fact, been strictly accurate.
“It must be a slow day when the librarian has time for pleasure reading.”
The blunt assertion made Avis spin around, sending the top book on her stack sliding to the floor.
Miss Cavendish stood at the head of the shelves, holding a basket, her graying brown hair pinned tightly beneath a black hat a decade out of style.
“I wasn’t ... I mean ... W-what are you doing here?” Avis stammered.
“This is, I believe, theCavendishAssociation Library.” The stern look she gave Avis was a near replica of the portrait looming over the biography section, her father and the library’s donor and founder, Luther Cavendish.
“I’m sorry. I only meant...” Well, she couldn’t exactly say what she’d meant: Miss Cavendish never bothered to darken the library’s door outside of monthly inspections.
Breathe. Smile. Take control of the conversation.After all, she’d wanted to speak to Miss Cavendish for weeks now.
“Miss Cavendish,” she began, “as you may have noticed, I’ve been getting behind in my work. With the shortened hours—”
“Those are the times the Committee on Public Safety suggested businesses remain illuminated,” Miss Cavendish stated. “We must all do our part to protect our shores. It simply can’t be helped.”
