Chapter 1: How Do You Solve a Problem Like Eponine?

An Abbey in the Outskirts of Paris, 1940

"Honestly, Reverend Mother, it's getting out of hand!" Sister Marie complained to the Reverend Mother in the courtyard. Sister Eponine had been late to mass, again. 'Late' meaning she completely missed it.

"Sister Marie, I think I may have a solution for this little… problem." Reverend Mother Fantine replied, "I do not think that Sister Eponine is meant for our little abbey." The abbey was not far from Paris, but it was close to the countryside, Fantine held the abbey very close to her heart.


Eponine made her way to the Reverend Mother's office, she guessed what was coming: she was going to be punished for missing mass that morning. As she walked, she held both her hands in front of her and prayed. To Eponine, life at the abbey was tough, but anywhere was better than the streets. She thanked God for leading her to the abbey and Mother Fantine during her hour of need. She had always found the church a source of comfort and security and valued her position as a nun in the abbey. It was only the execution of her 'nun responsibilities,' as she liked to call them, which made her feel slightly inadequate in the convent. After praying extensively whilst making her way to the Mother Superior's office, she hadn't realised that she had already reached her destination. Eponine hesitantly reached up to knock on the door.

"Come in," Fantine's voice called from inside. Eponine cautiously opened the door and stepped into the office.

"Hello, Mother," Eponine spoke, looking down at her feet, "I know you want to speak to me, but if I could just explain? The sky was so blue today and -"

"Eponine," Mother Fantine began, "what do you think is the most important thing you have learnt over your year here with us in the abbey since taking your vows?"

"That I must find out God's will and do it wholeheartedly." The younger girl replied immediately.

"It seems that it is God's will that you leave us." The Reverend Mother stated quickly, trying to soften the blow slightly.

"Leave? Mother, please don't send me away! This is my home! This is my life!" Eponine protested as politely as possible.

"Are you truly ready for it?"

"Yes! I am!"

"If you go out into the world for some time knowing what we expect of you," Fantine began to get into what she was asking of Eponine, "you will find out if you expect it of yourself."

"I can! I can do it, Mother! If it is God's will."

"There is an orphanage, in the very centre of Paris, that is in dire need of maternal influence – a governess of sorts – until September or until the owner finds himself a wife." It was March.

"September?" Eponine exclaimed in disbelief. "An orphanage?"

"Yes," the Mother Superior answered, "of about 9 children, do you like children?"

"Oh, yes but nine?" Eponine responded with another question.

"I will tell Monsieur Enjolras to expect you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Eponine asked apprehensively.

"Yes, tomorrow, you can catch the train early tomorrow morning." Fantine told her.

"Okay, thank you, Reverend Mother," Eponine said, before starting to turn and leave.

"Eponine," Mother Fantine called her, causing the younger girl to turn back around, "do come and bid me goodbye tomorrow, won't you?" Eponine's heart began to swell.


Eponine left the convent the next morning with mixed emotions. It had been a year since she had even seen a train, never mind caught one. She was excited about what awaited her at the orphanage but she was fearful of being so far away from the abbey, considering her life before being a nun was one of sin and danger. She had decided that she would miss the Reverend Mother and some of the kinder nuns, most of them found her odd, but she was sure that she would make some friends at the orphanage.

After an hour-long train journey, Eponine was wandering around the very heart of Paris, looking for the orphanage in her clothes that even the poor didn't want (her hat was definitely a fashion disaster.) The Mother Superior had told the younger woman that the orphanage was a remodelled café, with the same sign on the outside as when it thrived. The Café Musain, as that's what it had been called, was on the edge of a square, two alleyways either side of it. Eponine walked towards the old café with a smile on her face – she couldn't help but grin looking at the old café sign, the paint was peeling and she could see where it had been repainted multiple times, however when Eponine's eyes travelled to the large window beneath it, she saw that it was clean, and inside the old café, there were nine children sat writing whilst a man stood at the edge of the room, watching them.

Eponine reached the door of the orphanage and pushed it open apprehensively. She was generally quite good with new people, but she found her anxieties growing whilst wanting to make friends with the children, but also the man in charge of them. As she stepped through the doorway, she smiled at the children as they turned to face the door to see who had come in.

"Hello," Eponine spoke, trying to come across as confident as possible, "I'm from the convent. You have been expecting me?" She looked towards the man in the corner of the room. He looked at her; he seemed to be investigating her face, her clothes – just her, in general. This man, she assumed, was Monsieur Enjolras.

"Yes, mademoiselle…?" He spoke with a formal accent, pausing to find out her name.

"Eponine," She held out her hand for him to shake, he took it and shook it promptly.

"This facility is run on discipline, without which the house cannot be run," Monsieur Enjolras began, holding his hands behind his back in a military fashion, "drill them in their studies, I will not have them dreaming away their summer holidays. Each afternoon they march, bedtime is to be strictly observed -"

"Excuse me, but when do they play?" Eponine interrupted the man who acted as though he was made from marble.

"You will see to it that they will conduct themselves with the utmost decorum." He stated, refusing to delve any further in the matter. "Now…" He turned to the children, "in line, please and introduce yourselves," The children formed an orderly line in which Eponine could only assume was age order.

"I'm Grantaire," the eldest of the children spoke, a lanky boy with a mug of coffee in hand, "I'm sixteen and I don't need a caretaker."

"Noted," Eponine replied, smiling at the teenager, "we'll just be friends then."

"I'm Combeferre, I'm fifteen and I like to read." The boy introduced himself, politely, holding his hand out for Eponine to shake.

"Pleasure to meet you." Eponine replied politely.

"I'm Courfeyrac, I'm fourteen," the next boy introduced himself, with wild brown curls spilling from his head, "I'm impossible!"

"Who told you that?" Eponine asked; it was a curious thing for a boy to say about himself.

"Monsieur Enjolras!" He exclaimed, laughing a bit, "it was just after he had met me though."

"I'm Joly!" The boy next to Courfeyrac chimed. Eponine was about to ask how old he was before Monsieur Enjolras spoke before she had the chance to.

"Bahorel, introduce yourself properly please." The man reprimanded the boy. Eponine turned her attention back to Bahorel, who was covered in bruises and cuts.

"I'm Joly, he's Bahorel, he's thirteen. I'm ten and I think that your hat is the ugliest thing I've ever seen," a small girl spoke up from further down the line.

"Or get Joly to do it for you," Monsieur Enjolras muttered beneath his breath, causing Eponine to grin slightly as she removed the (admittedly) ugly hat from her head.

"Joly! You shouldn't say that!" The older boy spoke up, reprimanding the younger girl.

"Why not? It's true," Joly protested, crossing her arms.

"Yes, but you still shouldn't say it." The boy with a plait turned to Eponine, "I'm Jehan, I'm eleven and I'm incorrigible."

"Congratulations," Eponine responded.

"What does incorrigible mean?" Jehan asked, looking up at Eponine.

"It means that you will never change." Eponine informed him, smiling.

"I'm Feuilly and I'm going to be seven on Tuesday and I'd like a pink parasol." Feuilly, a little girl, told Eponine, having taken a couple of steps towards Eponine.

"Is pink your favourite colour?" Eponine asked the little girl, who nodded, "Pink's my favourite colour too."

"I'm Lesgle, and I'm six too, my birthday was a couple of months ago!" A small boy piped up next to Feuilly.

"Happy birthday for then," Eponine smiled to the young boy before turning to the youngest.

"I'm Gavroche, and I'm five years old," The youngest boy on the end said, smiling up at Eponine.

"My, you're practically a gentleman!" The woman smiled at the littlest boy.

"Allow me to show you to your room," Grantaire spoke up after listening to the other children introduce themselves.

"Why, how kind of you, Grantaire," Eponine smiled at the teenager and followed him up the stairs of the old café. As she made her way up the steps, she tried to make conversation with him.

"You know, I was terribly nervous when I was on my way here, it's been a while since I've been in the city," Eponine explained to him.

"Well, you've got nothing to worry about," the teenager lied, slipping the frog that Bahorel had been playing with before she arrived into her hat, "here you are!"

"Ah, thank you Grant-ah!" Eponine began to thank the boy as she put her hat (containing the frog) back on her head.

"Well, I suppose I shall see you at lunch, Mademoiselle Eponine?" He asked, before making his way towards the steps.

"Yes, I suppose you shall, Grantaire." Eponine replied, holding the small frog in her hands.