The Librarian Spy(109)
When Elaine opened the one from Noah, she exhaled with something between a laugh and a sob. “Strawberry jam.” She touched the image with a smile of affection.
“Is that what it is?” Ava asked.
“It was a treasure during the war.” Elaine pressed her lips together, composing her emotions. “He loved it.”
“That explains why it is his favorite even still,” Ava said.
A tear ran down Elaine’s face. She swept it away with trembling fingers. “You came all this way to see me?”
“Yes. To tell you how very clever and brave I find you and to share with you what an impact your risks have had.” Ava had initially questioned if it was a good idea to come to Lyon, if she would even be able to find Elaine. But standing here now in front of the thin woman whose face glowed with pride, Ava knew she had made the right decision.
Elaine opened her arms and captured Ava in a fierce hug. “This is truly the greatest gift.” She released her and smiled through her tears. “Thank you.”
Ava disembarked from the plane in London where James would be waiting for her, the man whose set of dice even now clicked together in her pocket as anticipation for a fresh adventure blossomed in her chest.
Britain was another world to explore. One that birthed Geoffrey Chaucer, who gave the English language its literary feet, one where Shakespeare’s theater had once entertained the masses with stories that would be retold for centuries to come. It was the city where Charles Dickens set so many of his books, educating people not with instruction, but by connecting the character to the reader and pulling them on a journey. It was where Thomas More framed a perfect fictional society that mirrored a monastic lifestyle in Utopia and where Jane Austen’s characters strolled in their endeavors of marital pursuits.
The wealth of Britain’s history was so rich, Ava could feast on it for decades and never be full.
She had spent her entire life reading of such experiences and was now ready to enjoy them in the flesh. Perhaps even have the opportunity for a chance at love.
Regardless, she was eager to work in the London Library, once more surrounded by tomes that spanned centuries past, doing her part to record the history so it would always live in the minds of future generations. After all, there was nothing Ava loved more than the scent of old books—except, of course, the power of the written word.
AUTHOR NOTE
I was inspired to write The Librarian Spy after reading about the librarians who were sent to neutral Lisbon during World War II to gather books and newspapers in order to glean intel on the enemy. This became especially interesting after learning they were initially thrown into their jobs with very little training and Lisbon was teeming with people from all over the world, agents and refugees alike. Espionage was rife on Lisbon’s crowded coastline, where power and wealth were played like a well-guarded hand and countries operated clandestine activities on the razor’s edge of neutrality beneath the noses of Portugal’s secret police.
While the IDC (Interdepartmental Committee for the Acquisition of Foreign Publications) did not send any female operatives to Lisbon, I chose to create Ava Harper—a woman confident in her own element at the Library of Congress, only to arrive in a place where she had more questions than answers. I had the good fortune to know a few librarians who offered great insight with which to build Ava’s character. I also was able to travel to DC to the Library of Congress, where I spent the day researching in the beautiful Reading Room and toured the premises.
Portugal was the last corner of neutral European territory from which refugees could sail to South America, Africa or North America to escape the Nazis’ wrath. And while it was a place of relative safety where refugees were protected under neutrality laws, there was always a constant threat of various visas expiring, resulting in arrest by the Portuguese secret police. Additionally, there was the perpetual fear that Germany would attack Portugal and refugees would once more be under Nazi occupation. The waits these refugees endured for their various visas and boat tickets were long and terrible, even for people who had maintained their wealth, though many arrived with only the clothes they wore.
Spies swarmed in this community where publications and news from all over the world mixed among the conglomeration of foreigners. They secretly paid the locals and police to listen and report, they rubbed elbows with the wealthy in glitzy hotels to gather intel, and they dotted disinformation around to spread like wildfires to keep the enemy from suspecting their next move. All of this made for a very exciting environment.
I was fortunate enough to be able to travel to Lisbon, despite the pandemic, during 2021. I had never been to Portugal, and it was important for me to experience the culture I had learned so much about in my research. I found it to be exactly as I had read: beautiful with incredible food and people who were kind and generous. I had an amazing tour guide, Raquel Estevens, whose 101-year-old grandmother shared details about how life was when the refugees came to Lisbon. Raquel not only planned out tours specific to what I needed for my research, but was always so patient with all of my questions. I’m immensely grateful to her and her grandmother.
One man I unfortunately did not get to mention in my book, but I feel also deserves to be noted here, is Sousa Mendes, a Portuguese consul in Bordeaux, France. In June 1940, when Germany took France, people were being attacked and cities were falling under Nazi control, and people were desperate to flee, he defied strict orders to not authorize visas. As the Portuguese consulate filled with desperate people, Mendes went with his heart and conscience and vowed to sign as many visas as he could regardless of nationality or religion, and he did so without taking payment. For three days, he signed and signed and signed, his name reduced to only “Mendes,” but the consulate stamp on those visas was enough to let refugees flow through the borders. Before he was forced to stop, he managed to sign at least 3,800—this number has been confirmed with certainty by the Sousa Mendes Foundation (survivors and descendants of the families he saved with those visas), though estimates of the number range between 10,000–30,000. For his defiance, he was stripped permanently of his title, shunned by António de Oliveira Salazar, the prime minister of Portugal, and never again able to secure employment. Sousa Mendes is noted to have said: “I could not have acted otherwise, and I therefore accept all that has befallen me with love.”