Theo spent close to an hour going into the specifics that the restricted long-distance phone calls hadn’t allowed. He reiterated details of the wartime difficulties Partridge faced, but he also told Walter of the ingenious solutions they’d found, and about their new titles. Then he told him about the useful contacts he’d made and of the recent changes in the industry, including the opportunities for the Americans to supply books to parts of the Commonwealth and Europe, now that the British and their ships no longer could.

By the time Theo finished he was satisfied that he’d made it sound as if things were looking up, and that once the new titles were out, the annual paper rations would increase and allow George’s team to continue to build their slate for the coming years.

“There is just one small matter; there’s been an issue with the rent,” he said, making the judgment not to keep a secret that his employer was likely to soon discover. “George has been paying for it out of his personal savings for the past four months, but Clare won’t let him carry on.”

“No, I can see that . . . I don’t know many wives who would. I wish he’d told me himself, though,” Walter said, puckering his lips.

Theo grimaced as he tried to think of a tactful reply, but Walter beat him to it.

“Still no profit, then?” he asked.

“Not this financial year, but it will improve next year,” Theo replied. “The forecasts are promising.”

“And how long are you proposing that we prop them up?”

“We’re not. If you look closely at these figures, there’s no debt. Not unless this year’s books don’t sell.” Theo passed him the accounts. “There’s no reason for that to happen, though. It’s a simple case of supply and demand, Walter—there just aren’t enough books to go around.”

He’d hoped for a better reaction, but Walter just looked through the papers and made a few gruff comments. Yes, conditions were dire, but they had learned to cope; they were adjusting and improvising, and it was working, but it was hard to see that from the other side of the world.

“I really felt as if I was making a difference, and it opened so many doors being there,” Theo said, leaning forward and stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. “You know, Walter, without their drive and their lobbying and initiatives, there would be no publishing industry to speak of. What they’ve done is really quite remarkable.”

Walter remained uncharacteristically quiet, and Theo thought that perhaps he had shared too much. He knew his employer didn’t approve of his work with the council, but he was convinced more than ever of how necessary it all was.