Page 60 of The Last Library of Paris

‘Oh, me too,’ said Valentine, surprising me all over again. It was entirely possible that I’d misjudged this man. ‘I think it’s an excellent example of the simplest ideas being the best.’

‘It really is,’ I said. ‘Anyway, I thought perhaps I could ask if they’ve arrived so we could see them.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ said Henry. ‘It’s nice to have something physical to focus the mind.’

I looked at Valentine. ‘So now we just need the most important bit,’ I said. ‘We need the addresses of the safe houses.’

He stood up. ‘Let me give you an idea of how it works. In theory.’

I sat back in my chair, eager to know more.

‘Imagine an airman crash-lands in France,’ said Valentine. ‘He could be alone, or with others. His first job is to find somewhere to hide.’

He walked to the front of the room, and I looked at him. Once I’d thought him to be just a pretty face. A spoiled, good-looking chap with good contacts, who’d avoided being called up by landing himself a desk job. Now, thanks to Henry, I saw him differently.

‘That’s where we’d expect the escape-mindedness training to kick in,’ Valentine went on. ‘They’re taught to stake out isolated villages, farmhouses, that sort of thing.’

‘What are they looking for?’

Valentine gave me a wink. ‘Women,’ he said, making me immediately regret all the nice things I’d been thinking about him.

‘I hardly think …’ I began, but he interrupted me.

‘We teach them to look for farms without men. Where the men are away fighting. Women are a vital part of the Resistance and often more willing to take risks without their men present. And they’re less likely to attract attention. The Resistance often use women to accompany men to safe houses.’

‘That makes sense,’ I murmured, making a note on my pad, but really trying to cover up my embarrassment at falling for Valentine’s attempt to annoy me. He was infuriating.

‘Every safe house only knows the next link in the chain – the next stop on the route,’ Valentine went on. ‘They do not know our names, nor do they know MI9 exists. There is no – and this is non-negotiable – no writing down of names or addresses.’

‘Except in our books,’ I said.

‘Yes.’ Valentine went back to his desk, opened his briefcase and took out some papers. ‘And here.’

I stared at him. ‘Is that a list of safe houses?’

He looked quite pleased with himself.

‘All from memory. From Calais to the Pyrenees. I wrote it this morning – that’s why I was late. And once we’ve come up with codes …’

‘Disguises,’ I said. ‘We said they’re more disguises than codes.’

‘Disguises?’ Valentine said with a chuckle. ‘Yes, I like that. Once we’ve got those, I’ll burn these papers. I’d rather they didn’t leave this room, so if we can get all that done today, I’d feel happier.’

I clapped my hands together once. ‘Then let’s get on.’

‘Most of these places are extremely rural,’ said Valentine. ‘Where did you grow up, Wilson?’

‘Watkins,’ I said. ‘Tetbury. It’s in Gloucestershire.’

‘Then I assume you had an address – house number? Name?’

‘Just the vicarage,’ I said. ‘And then, yes, a number and a street.’

Valentine nodded. ‘These French villages are so tiny there’s none of that. Which actually makes it a bit easier for us. We can include as many names as we can in each address, and pass on as much information.’

‘All right,’ I said, turning to a fresh page in my notebook. ‘Give us the first couple and we’ll see what we can come up with.’

‘Going north to south,’ Valentine began. ‘We have Beaulieu.’