The Last Night in London Karen White (books for students to read txt) 📖

usual tweed skirts for trousers—but only if they were under fifty years old and weighed less than ten stone. Shortly afterward, Eva and Odette found themselves stitching women’s trousers in their basement workroom, then returning home and making their own, using material ripped from clothing articles they’d once modeled.

“Eva.”

A man stopped in front of her, and at first she didn’t recognize him. She wasn’t used to seeing him in anything besides evening clothes.

“David,” she said in greeting. “What a nice surprise.”

“Would you walk with me?”

Fear-fueled heat flooded her chest. “Is Graham all right?”

“Quite.” He waited with his arm bent until she slipped her hand around it. “He asked me to deliver a message. He thought it best you not be seen with him. You’re being watched, you know.”

She nodded. Several times she thought she’d seen the hulking shape of Jiri Zeman in a crowd or walking around a corner as she went about her daily business. Yet when she’d run to catch up with him, to see if it was really him, he had somehow managed to disappear.

“Alex knows that Georgina is dead. Did he mention it to you?”

“No. And he didn’t ask me to stop delivering the envelopes.”

David frowned. “Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re ready to move forward. It’s not safe to wait any longer.”

“Not safe?”

“For you. I’m afraid Alex believes you have exhausted your usefulness.”

The heat in her chest rose in her throat. She swallowed it back. “What is Graham’s message?”

“He wants you to go to Horvath’s Café tomorrow morning. We have a plan to take care of our mutual problem.”

“Horvath’s?”

“Yes. Graham’s been known to visit there on occasion to practice his Czech. He finds listening to native speakers the best way to learn. He speaks several languages fluently, I should add—he’s better than I, certainly. It’s why he chose the Diplomatic Service.”

“He did tell me. It’s one of the few things I know about Graham.”

“Now, now, there will be plenty of time for that later.”

Her steps slowed as she contemplated his request. “What does he want me to do there?”

“You don’t need to know anything in advance. It’s safer that way.”

She looked up at him. “You and Graham aren’t really with the War Office, are you?”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “Of course we are.”

“You must both think I’m a traitor. And I suppose I am. I wish . . .” She paused. “I wish to be forgiven. I want to do whatever it takes for Graham to forgive me.”

David patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his arm. “There’s nothing to forgive. These are difficult times, and people find themselves in difficult situations. We do what we can to survive. I have found that acts of heroism are not always committed for unselfish reasons, but to make up for past transgressions. Not all of us are given the chance for atonement.”

Eva ducked her head to hide her face, the tears that threatened to fall. “Did Graham say anything else?”

A small smile formed on David’s lips. “He wanted me to tell you that he’s started drawing the plans for a house by the sea. He said you’d know what he meant.”

—

The following morning, Eva entered Horvath’s, wearing the practiced smile of an actress looking for nothing more than conversation and something to drink and eat off ration. She wore an old frock she’d once modeled at Lushtak’s to give her confidence, and she was clearheaded.

Ever since that night in the Savoy’s basement with Graham, during all the interminable waiting for something she could not name to happen, she’d been drinking less. She’d stopped drinking entirely during the day, wanting to be alert. To be ready. For what, she didn’t know.

She was relieved to find Mr. Danek at his usual table, facing the door. He worked the evening shift at the Savoy, and she had half hoped to see him. His expression didn’t change as she entered the café, as if he’d been expecting her. He signaled for a coffee as she sat down across from him.

“You’re looking well,” he said.

“Thank you.” She glanced around the room, unsure what or whom she was supposed to be looking for. Wishing that she could do more than simply look the part, that she could be strong and smart. Brave. But she was none of those things. All she knew how to do was pretend that she was. That was the one thing she was very, very good at.

Mr. Danek took a long drag on his cigarette before putting it out in the overflowing ashtray. He sat back in his chair, regarding her. “I hear the seaside is beautiful this time of year.”

She looked at him sharply. “Is it? I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Yes, you have. You’ve been thinking about going for a while.”

Eva kept her eyes on his, wishing David had given her some sort of script. “You’re right. I want to go to Dorset. To visit my mother.”

“And why haven’t you gone already?”

She looked into his calm eyes, felt a small tremor jumping in her fingertips. “Even if I knew where she was, I worry about Precious—she’ll need to come with me, but she shouldn’t travel now.” She pulled out her cigarette case. Mr. Danek’s hand fell on it, trapping it against the table’s surface.

He tapped on the Latin inscription. “‘Betray before you are betrayed.’ Have you ever wondered why he chose this for you?”

She didn’t remark how Alex’s name wasn’t spoken aloud. She swallowed. “He told me that I would one day find the words as useful as he found me to be.”

Mr. Danek picked up the case and took a cigarette, then held the case open for Eva. He spoke very quietly, as if murmuring to himself, so that Eva had to lean forward to hear. “And have you?”

She considered Mr. Danek’s new position at the Savoy, and Alex’s part in securing it and Graham’s instructions to come to Horvath’s began to make sense.

“Yes.” She swallowed. “And you, Mr. Danek—are you useful to