“That’s right,” Theo agreed. “There’s not too much we can do about our fixed costs, but if we found a cheaper printer . . . maybe one that’s not so local, well, I think it’s worth looking at.”

“I don’t see why; everyone knows the printers have been taken over by our government,” Tommy said, pointedly looking at Theo.

“Look,” George said, “Theo isn’t here to frighten us or threaten your jobs—the simple fact is that we need to adapt like other publishers.”

“It’s not just about the war,” Theo put in, “it’s these new forms of paperbacks too, and the emergence of companies like Penguin, both here and in the States.” He glanced around the table. They all looked tired: Emily had dark shadows under her eyes, Tommy had the kind of stubble Theo hadn’t seen since his last visit to Little Italy, and Ursula looked distracted. Morale was certainly low. “Penguin might have only been around for a few years—”

“Eight,” Ursula said, with a decisive look on her face.

“Thanks,” Theo replied, “but they’re already taking a large share of the market.”

“The team is aware of that,” George said impatiently.

“Sure, I’m getting up to speed.” He didn’t want to worry them, and he certainly didn’t want to patronize them, but he also needed to get the job done so he could return to Virginia and his parents, and that involved laying down the cold hard facts.

“I don’t know how you do it over there, but we’ll only be able to be competitive if we get enough paper ration, and to get that we have to sell more books,” Ursula said in near-perfect English—was that an eastern European accent? “Our quota is based on what we sold last year.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Theo said, nodding. He didn’t add that it had already been explained to him several times.

“Perhaps if we take you through the planned list of titles?” Emily suggested.

“Well, it’s not complete, as we probably have to replace the title that Alice was working on,” Tommy said. “It was going to be the next big thing.”

“I know,” George said, frowning thoughtfully. “You still haven’t managed to find her, then?” He was looking at Ursula.

“She’s still helping her cousin with the baby, as far as we know. I tried contacting her and her mother, but they haven’t replied. So, no news, I’m afraid.”

“Strange—let’s hope she’s okay,” Tommy said, exchanging a look with Ursula.

“Who’s this?” Theo asked.

“Our assistant editor, Alice Cotton,” George replied. “She was developing a title with the potential to be the first in a popular series, something that might rival the Ministry of Information books—nonfiction titles about real people in wartime, remarkable true stories, that sort of thing.”

“Until she disappeared,” Emily said.