By fifteen, Cosette was a beautiful girl with long blonde hair and a dazzling smile. She was, of course, still a teenager, and therefore convinced her hair was boring; her smile awkward and her face covered in spots, but otherwise, she was growing up to be a wonderful person.
She had a mobile phone. This was the best improvement over the past few years that she could remember. Oh, she had new games to play and she had even been allowed a desktop computer, which sat in a corner of the dining room, for whenever she wanted to go on it. However, the mobile phone was great.
She had received a basic one for her 14th birthday and she had been thrilled. It had had snake on it, and she could text and phone her parents. She enjoyed texting her Father during the day, which was the best thing to do with it.
Father still worked long hours, he did twelve hours shifts, and his brain had a tendency to switch off as soon as he came in. During the day, though. She got more of a response out of him. He still enjoyed laughing and joking with her, but in text format, he seemed to have lost the last of his reserves.
She did rather understand, because it was easier to send a text when something was wrong, than stand in front of him and say the words.
Papa had stepped down from being mayor a few months ago, saying he wanted to spend more time at home, and focussing on other things. He said it was a younger man's job now, but Cosette couldn't see her Papa as an old man, no matter how she looked at him. He was in his late fifties, but despite his greying hair and the few wrinkles around his eyes, he was her Papa, and she simply could not imagine him as old.
She could not view her Father as old either, though most of his hair was silver now. He was in his mid forties, but he claimed it was a stressful job that had turned his hair grey. Papa always laughed and said it was because he did not know how to relax that the party went to his hair instead.
His job had been split now; part time on the streets, but most of his time in the academy. He was now actually running it, rather than just as a sort of second in command. She had asked her Papa about it, having never really wondered what he had done before.
Apparently, he had been boosted to the top of the chain of command in a prison at a young age, and then when he had moved to proper policing work, for an incident her Papa scowled at and refused to discuss, he had been allowed to keep his rank.
She had asked Father about it as well, but he always just shook his head and told her not to ask.
At school, they were supposed to be thinking about what job they wanted to go into. Her Papa wanted her to go be some kind of scientist; he seemed to believe scraping As in her science meant she could do this. She had tried to tell him it was not going to happen, that she wanted a job where she was not taxing her brain all the time, but he was a little dense about things sometimes.
She did not know what Father thought she should do. He told her to do something she could put her all into, but she had not yet decided what that was. She had discovered recently that she was good at sports, and while she still did not really have any friends, she was content to focus her attentions on being able to run faster. Running allowed her mind to wander anyway, and she thought about all sorts of stuff while she did so.
She had a vague idea about being an artist when she got older, about painting wonderful pictures, and people coming from all around to see them. However, her favourite thing to paint was the night sky, as she shared Father's interest in astronomy.
While nebulas and planets looked very cool when you painted them, she did not enjoy real life paintings, or the abstract ideas the art teacher wanted them to draw. She would continue painting in her free time, the spare room was taken over with her supplies, but it would never be a career.
She would like to be a police officer, really. She always admired her Father for being able to go out, do his job, and save people. Her memories of her early life may have faded, but she still remembered how amazing it had been to see that stern face open the door and bring her out. She remembered that wonderful safe smell that was now an everyday thing to her.
She was not sure if her Papa would like the idea, he worried so much about Father in his job anyway, could he cope with two of them working this line? She contemplated it as she walked home, trying to imagine herself in the smart uniform of one her Father's police officers.
She could arrest the irritating lads who sat behind her in Biology; they were always talking about how they took drugs. She was tempted to tell her Father about them, but she knew they were often more focussed on taking out the dealers than a couple of young idiots.
As she walked down an alley, a shortcut to their apartment, she saw a young woman leaning against the wall. She was thin, really thin, with dark lanky hair and a blank look in her eyes. Cosette walked against the wall, trying to keep as much distance as possible. Her Papa may insist on giving to poor people, but she was alone here.
"Hey, don't suppose you have any Euros to spare, huh?"
She ignored the girl, keeping her head down.
"Hey, come on. I just need some help to pay for dinner. I have three brothers and a sister to pay for."
"Sorry, I don't have anything." She muttered, continuing quickly.
"Hey... Have I seen you before? I am sure I have." The woman stopped in front of Cosette, and the blonde looked up.
The person before her was much younger than she had realised, probably about 14 or 15. Her eyes looked old and tired though. She did have something familiar about her, but Cosette wasn't sure...
"Cosette? No way... All grown up, huh?"
"I don't know you." She whispered, and began to hurry.
"Not since you got whisked away, you wouldn't. I'm Éponine. We were young girls together..." there was a sigh, but Cosette did not stop.
"Look what's become of me..." It was said softly, but Cosette did not want to see. The thought that this girl was a Thénardier; that she was now so low... it made her nauseous.
Cosette hurried inside, and took a deep breath. She tried to push the memories back, to forget them again. Perhaps a cup of tea helped.
She boiled the kettle, poured a cup, and went upstairs to see if Father was around. She wondered if he knew what actually happened to the Thénardiers after she was taken away.
She went into their room, rolled her eyes in exasperation and left. She'd ask later. They were having sex again.