At the top of the steps they were surrounded by claustrophobic walls crammed full of books. A man sat behind a big paper strewn desk nearby. He was a stuffy looking old guy with thick lensed glasses, waxy pink cheeks and grey hair. He wore an old fashioned jumper with a zigzag pattern on it. “Membership card, please,” said the man. Eva looked around. The place had lots of big old, white painted, Georgian style doors going off left and right from a central corridor with a bare wooden floor. The place smelt of musty old paper.
“What is this place?” said Eva.
The old man looked up as he took Pavel’s little grey card from his hand.
“The Whitechapel Subscription Library, of course.”
“Of course,” said Eva, with sarcasm pouring through.
“And if you’re not a member, you’ll have to pay a subscription before you can use us. It’s an annual fee paid up front. Or you won’t be able to visit.”
Eva looked at Pavel. Pavel looked at the man behind the desk.
“But she must visit with me. How much is the fee, I forget?”
“One hundred and ninety-eight pounds, the same as yours, the same as everyone else.”
Pavel nodded and handed the man a credit card from his wallet. The man looked at the card and shook his head. “We don’t accept those. But most other cards are fine.”
“What about cheques?”
The man shook his head.
“Euros?”
“No. Sterling cash or card.”
“Pavel, is this strictly necessary?” said Eva with irritation.
“My dear, this is essential.”
“For crying out loud!” said Eva. She opened her bag and laid a debit card on the counter.
“Ah, that’ll do nicely,” said the old man. He processed the payment, and made a painstakingly slow job of registering her for the service.
“There we are. Welcome to Whitechapel Subscription Library. You can read any title, though some may not be taken from the premises. Do enjoy your visit.” Then the man promptly dropped his head and ignored them as if they had already left his presence. Eva picked up her wallet and put it back into her bag. She looked at Pavel with indignation.
“Now we have another secret bond,” said Pavel, ushering Eva along the corridor. “Subscription libraries used to be everywhere in this country, Eva. Then the government created public libraries, and almost every subscription library ceased to exist. But a few survived. They are treasure troves. The quietest places on earth. Come and enjoy with me.”
The musty old place was deathly quiet but for the rustle of book pages, and the coughs of a few readers.
“This library has only 1200 members. Now you make it 1201.”
Pavel led her into a room with old fashioned round tables, and book shelves crammed into every spare space. The shelves were full of cloth covered books and leather bound spines. They were all very old. A man at a round table looked at them disapprovingly from behind a sheaf of ancient looking papers. Eva glared back, and the man quickly turned his head back to his reading.
“What are we doing here?” she whispered.
“I wanted you to see into my soul, Eva. My soul lives in places like these. But this place is like no other... please, enjoy it, like I do. Look through the books a moment while I go and retrieve a few special ones.”
Feeling hungry, confused, and ready to kill anyone who complained about their noise, Eva stood alone in the library while Pavel disappeared into another room. She stared at the old cloth book spines and wondered if it was time to run. But she remembered Pavel’s strangeness at the airport. Now he had just cost her two hundred pounds. She really wanted to go but she had too much invested to give up. A moment later, Pavel returned clutching two little leather bound books, one red and one green, with gilt lettering on the spines.
“You haven’t even picked a book!” said Pavel, sounding disappointed.
Eva folded her arms. Pavel smiled. “Then here, read this. I won’t be long now. Don’t you just love this place?”
Eva accepted the red book in her hands and spun it around. “Poems of Purest Beauty by Poets of the Ages.” said the cover.
“It is an exquisite book. Almost as exquisite as you...”
Eva opened her mouth to protest, but Pavel put a finger to his lips.
“Enjoy and then we must have lunch,” he said, and walked away to a tall leather armchair overlooking the street below. She watched him look out over the bright Whitechapel street. He turned the chair so he could see out the window. Eva watched him the whole time and went through the motions of opening the book of poems. She couldn’t abide poetry. But Pavel was increasingly intriguing. And at the very same time, his behaviour was beginning to seriously unnerve her.
After a while he looked up at her. Eva was watching.
“What are you reading?” she asked
“Oh, nothing really. Just one of my current inspirations.”
He lifted the book title to show her. “The Philosophy of the New and the Free: a treatise on the highest freedom attainable to men of faith and reason.” The title was enough to ensure Eva would never want to read it.
“We are free when we choose to be so, Eva. Free to become who we truly are. I’m free, Eva. Free to be precisely who I am. Free to serve a greater cause and free to love whoever I wish... Tell me. Are you that free, Eva?” said Pavel, with a whisper.
“I’m just as free as I need to be,” said Eva.
“I don’t think you are,” said Pavel. “One day soon, mark my words, you will want to read this. By then you will be free... I promise you.”
Eva wanted to shake him out of his spell. Any thoughts of kissing him had long since gone.
“You’re talking riddles. And you didn’t look very free this morning at the airport.”
Pavel’s smile faded. “Do you always try to read people this way?”
“It’s my job, Pavel.”
“Then maybe your job has changed you.”
“Life has changed me, Pavel. Maybe it has changed you too.”
The man stroked his beard between his finger and thumb. His eyes glazed. “Maybe... I am sorry this has been a bore for you,” said Pavel. He stood up and slid the little book into his jacket pocket. The leather cover stuck out at an angle. He walked away. Eva assumed he was going to the toilet. His jacket grazed a bookshelf and the little book tumbled to the floor. Pavel seemed oblivious. He walked out of the room and kept going. Quickly, Eva picked up the little book and walked to the window and to check on Pavel’s view of Whitechapel below. There was nothing to be gleaned from looking at the hustle and bustle. Then Eva opened the book, flicking the pages without a care for its age, searching for something to reveal what was going on.
“...freedom is available at every turn once man overthrows the tyranny... freedom can be lived if it is seized with determination, and if necessary, violence. Freedom is a right, and once that right is realised, man has an obligation to live in no other way. To seize it. To act upon it. To make every moment an act of creation or destruction as he wills, the free man can do no wrong according to the highest urges within...”
It was abstract gobbledygook. The ramblings of a man caught between high philosophy and more than a hint of madness. But the following pages caught her attention most of all. The pages parted easily from plenty of use. And on the margins were pencil squiggles, and places where an eraser had wiped out other pencil lines and ancient dirt before them. The squiggles were almost familiar. Like shorthand, or a code. Eva’s heart jumped. She thought of Pavel’s reactions to the police at Stansted Airport. His strained manner. Surely, not...
Eva walked across the room and placed the book exactly where Pavel dropped it. She picked her mobile phone from her bag and called Dan as quickly as she could. She paced around the window, listening to the ring tone.
“Dan. It’s me.”
“How’s it going?”
“I’m worried something is wrong with Pavel.”
“Like what?”
“It’s too much to say over the phone. I’m in Whitechapel. I think you should come to London, Dan. I might need you.”
“Is he scaring you? If he’s scaring you, I’ll...”
Eva heard a creak behind her and jumped. She kept her eyes on the bright window and put a smile on her face to mask any trace of conspiracy from her voice.
“No, that’s fine, Mr Merton. Don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow. We can book an appointment for next week, okay? Thanks for your call now. Goodbye.”
Eva turned and saw Pavel lingering halfway across the room. His eyes were distant. There was less affection in them now.
“Is something wrong?” said Pavel.
“No? Why? Should there be?”
“No. Nothing should be wrong.”
Pavel bent down, picked up his book and turned it over in his hands. He opened it and looked inside then looked at Eva.
“I dropped this. Did you look at it?”
“Oh. Your book. Sorry, I didn’t notice. No, I didn’t look at it.”
Pavel smiled. “Like I said, you will one day. Come on...” Pavel held the door open and waited for her to leave ahead of him. “Let’s get some lunch.”
Eva let the smile drop from her face as soon as she had past him. Dan was more than an hour away , depending where they went next. Maybe they would soon be laughing about this. Maybe Eva was just being paranoid. Then again, maybe not. Dan was going to be a while. Eva had to keep things good until then.