Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places, or situations depicted in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. They belong to him, and his descendants.
Her Mother's Daughter Chapter 1: No Place Like Home
Montreuil-sur-mer, 1817
A quick splash of water over her face was the best Fantine could manage at the moment. As she retied her kerchief over her hair, she couldn't help but glance about anxiously, hoping no one would pass her on the road.
"What would I say if anyone asked?" she wondered nervously as she threw her comb back into her carpetbag haphazardly.
Someone tugged on the hem of her skirt. "Maman?"
Fantine smiled radiantly as she picked up her daughter. "We're almost there, my love. Can you be very quiet, for me? There is much I have to do," she said in a whisper.
Cosette's blue eyes were large as she nodded trustingly. Despite having spent the night on the roadside, her dress was still clean, even dainty with its ribbons and trimmings. Fantine's simple garb was also neat, but if one had examined her collar, one might have spotted tearstains there.
A carriage rumbled in on its way to the town proper. Fantine quickly lowered her head in order to look inconspicuous. However, Cosette squirmed restlessly as she tried to get a look at the scene around her.
It was only after the carriage was safely inside the town that Fantine dared to breathe a sigh of relief. "God, how are we going to manage?" she asked quietly as she finally dared to trudge forward. Her feet felt heavy, almost as if they were begging her to repent of her choice.
Still, Fantine forced herself to walk down the newly-paved road towards the center of the town. There perhaps, she might be able to better get her bearings. Also, her curiosity drew her forward; when she had left, Montreuil-sur-mer had been rundown and decrepit, but now the houses were larger and more well-kept. She caught sight of a large factory near the main road, bustling with activity.
"Who owns that?" she asked a woman hurrying in.
The crone stared at Fantine as if the latter had suddenly said something very idiotic. "Monsieur the mayor of course! Why are you looking for a place there, girl?"
"Well, yes," Fantine said, keeping her grip tight on Cosette.
The older woman glanced from Fantine to Cosette with a skeptical look. "So she's yours?"
"Her father is gone," Fantine answered more curtly than she'd intended. The woman's expression softened from surprise to sympathy.
"Well, there's nothing much you can do about that, child," the crone said. "Come now, you'd better ask about your place early. The foreman won't like a latecomer."
Fantine set Cosette down, the latter having insisted through her restless stirring that she wished to walk. She linked her slender hand with her daughter's plump one as they went into the factory.