Chapter 9

February, 1832

Cosette was now nearly seventeen, and it had been several months since she had last seen the young man. Her papa had grown rather suspicious, and moved houses temporarily to throw him off before returning to rue Plumet after he had attempted to follow them. She had since contented herself with the fact that they had never done more than exchange glances in the park, though he had clearly shown interest in her. He had, after all, kept the handkerchief she had made for her papa after he had forgotten it on their bench, though unfortunately that had likely been part of what had tipped her papa off. That and the fact that he had followed them after her papa had changed benches. They no longer took walks in the Luxembourg, however the rest of their daily routine remained the same.

Truthfully, as much as Cosette loved spending time with her papa and enjoyed their routine, she did at times find it tedious and repetitive. She was becoming a young woman, and wanted more and had begun to grow lonely with only Toussaint and her papa in her life. There were only so many books she could read, and only so many conversations she could have with the same two people. Nevertheless, she dared not complain. Her papa meant the world to her, and the only thing worse than continuing the same routine over and over again until the day she died would be upsetting him.

And so it happened that she found herself back on the same streets she was always on with him, carrying a basket and helping him give coins and a bit of food to the poor. This time was different, however. There was a group of young men, students, talking loudly, some carrying what looked like pamphlets. Her papa, however, seemed keen on avoiding the group, and ensured that they stayed far away from them. Cosette, however, was curious, and found her eyes wandering towards them. She was certain that one seemed familiar, but her papa was keeping her too far away to tell, and seemed to be aware that she was distracted.

She forced herself to instead return her focus to the task at hand, and after a while, the student group seemed to be dispersing. Her attention was soon distracted again, however, as a pair of small girls ran by. Something was ever so faintly familiar about them, but she shook it off. With a closer look as they paused to catch their breath, she was certain that she couldn't know them. They certainly weren't from the convent, and any other girls she had seen had only been passersby on the street. They were terribly thin, and dressed in clothes so tattered that they may as well be rags. As she watched out the corner of her eye, one of the girls, the taller, older one, approached one of the students who had lingered and began talking to him. Disinterested, Cosette returned her attention once again to helping her father. She had no reason to be so interested in strangers. But something about the student that girl was talking to seemed so familiar...

Once again, Cosette glanced over her shoulder at the girl and the student and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. It was him, the boy from the garden that she had seen so long ago, she was almost certain of it. He did not turn and see her, however, instead all of his attention seemed to be focused on the girl that was talking to him. She felt almost disappointed that his attention was focused elsewhere, and felt a slight pang of jealousy at that fact. But then why should she feel hurt and jealous? She had never shared a conversation with him, only glances, and she was not even completely certain that it was him, as from where she was standing now his face was almost hidden from her. She quickly returned once more to her task, only for the girl to run past again moments later.

"Hey, Éponine!" Cosette froze, startled at the two words that were yelled as the skinny girl ran by. Éponine. She knew that name. It had been years, but the sounds were still enough to strike her with anxiety. Her eyes quickly flashed to the skinny girl that had run past her. It couldn't be... Could it? She was startled out of her thoughts as the student suddenly collided with her, knocking the basket she had been carrying to the ground. She quickly knelt down to pick it up, the young man doing the same, clearly eager to assist.

"I didn't see you there, forgive me..." the student began only to trail off as their eyes met and their fingers brushed as they each reached for her basket at the same time. Cosette felt her heart flutter in her chest and butterflies in her stomach. It was him. The young man from the garden, and he seemed to recognize her.

Her papa, however, had quickly noticed the situation and instantly helped Cosette up, nodding to the young man before hurrying her away. She cast one last glance over her shoulder at him as they left, thrilled to see that his eyes were still on her.

He had remembered her. And for now, that would be more than enough.

Cosette was still giddy the next day when she went to church with her papa, her heart full of excitement at the thought of the young man. His voice had been like the sound of angels. I didn't see you there, forgive me... Her fingertips still tingled where his fingers had brushed against her own, and his eyes, his beautiful, perfect blue eyes... Cosette was smitten, and could only hope and pray that chance would bring them together again.

Shortly after church, as she and her papa were leaving, the girl that had run past her the day before appeared and stopped them. Cosette gazed at the girl. The dark hair was tangled and dirty, and her tattered skirt fastened around her skinny waist with only a string for a belt. Her chemise, which Cosette assumed had once been white, hung off her limply, doing nothing at all for warmth, and barely serving a purpose for modesty. Hey, Éponine... Could it be Éponine? The same girl she could vaguely remember from her childhood? She cast desperately through her memories, trying to pull up something that could confirm it one way or another. The other girl that had been with her yesterday, the shorter one. What had she looked like? Had it been Azelma?

"I have a letter for you, Monsieur," the girl told her papa, handing him a letter.

"Thank you, Mademoiselle," her papa replied, taking the letter. Cosette watched as he opened and read it.

"My father would greatly appreciate your help," the girl said as her papa read. Her voice was rough, not the sickening sweet that Cosette could vaguely remember from her past. Maybe it wasn't the same girl...

Her papa finished reading. "You live at the Gorbeau House?" he questioned, eyes still on the letter.

"Yes, Monsieur," the girl replied.

"Which apartment?"

"Last door on the right at the end of the hall."

"I will be there shortly. You run on ahead and let your father know. My daughter and I will take a cab and follow. We have a bit of shopping to do first. Come, Cosette."

At the sound of her name, she noticed the other girl turn and look at her, and the expression upon her face was pure venom. Cosette froze as the girl gazed at her, the dark eyes full of a mixture of recognition and hatred. Cosette was almost certain now that it was indeed Éponine, back in her life after all of those years, and now the tables had turned. Cosette quickly looked away, hurrying off with her father as Éponine stood, watching them go before running off towards the Gorbeau House.

Maybe I'm wrong and it is just a coincidence, she told herself as she and her papa walked to a cab. It can't be her. It's just someone who looks like her. It just can't be them. Papa promised they would never find me. He promised...

"Is something troubling you, Cosette?" he asked as they got into the cab.

"No, papa, just thinking," she replied.

"About?"

"Mama," Cosette replied quickly. "I think I dreamt of her last night. I'm sure it was her. She had two, beautiful wings... She must be an angel." She glanced up at him. "Will you ever tell me about her?"

Her papa said nothing, however. He never spoke of her mother.

The Gorbeau House was as run down as it had been several years before, when Cosette and her papa had stayed there. Her memories were rather faint, but still there, nonetheless. She smiled slightly as they arrived, a package in her arms as she accompanied her papa, but the smile faded as she remembered why they were there. The girl and her family. The girl she suspected was Éponine. She tried hard to tell herself that it couldn't be, but the nagging suspicion remained there in her mind as they entered the building, climbed the stairs, and went down the hall to the door. She calmed herself as best she could while her papa knocked, and the door swung open.

"Come in, Monsieur!" a man said excitedly with a sweeping bow. "Deign to come in, my respectable benefactor, along with your charming young lady."

The man before them looked to be rather old, small, thin, and haggard. Something about him made Cosette feel instantly off, though she hid it, glancing at her papa and seeing him to be unchanged in emotion. Her eyes then slid over to where the girl who had given them the letter was standing. She appeared to be trying to stay as far from them as possible, hiding near the door, and watching her darkly. Cosette shuddered slightly at the girl's dark gaze and kept close to her papa.

"Monsieur," her papa said to the thin man who had opened the door, "you will find new clothes, woollen stockings, and blankets in this parcel."

"Our angelic benefactor overwhelms us!" the man cried in response, bowing low before appearing to whisper quickly with the taller, elder daughter who continued to send dark looks in her direction. Cosette watched hesitantly, squinting slightly in the rooms dim light, and made out two other figures, a woman in a bed and another girl, the younger one from the day before, crouching near her. Though it was late winter, there was no fire in the room, and the window was shattered, only remnants of glass remained as a cold breeze came through. Everything about the place was eerie to her, and Cosette hoped that they would leave sooner rather than later.

"I see that you really are to be pitied, Monsieur-?" her papa said suddenly.

"Fabantou!" the man quickly interjected, standing upright again.

"Monsieur Fabantou, yes, that's right, I remember."

"Dramatic artiste, Monsieur, one who has had his successes."

Something about all of it felt far too familiar to Cosette, and she felt herself growing more and more uncomfortable there. She found herself scarcely able to pay attention as 'Fantabou' as he called himself began rambling on about his misfortunes while pacing about the room.

"My kiddies have no fire! My only chair has the bottom out of it! A broken windowpane! In this weather! My missus in bed! Sick!"

"Poor woman," her papa said, turning his attention to the woman lying in the bed.

"My child hurt!" Fabantou added quickly. The girl, who had been staring at her, shrieked a moment later, and Cosette felt a wave of uncontrollable pity sweep over her.

"You poor dear child," she said gently, rushing over to check the girl's hand. It was wrapped in what appeared to be a strip of cloth torn from her tattered chemise, now soaked through with blood.

"You see, my beautiful young lady, her bleeding wrist!" Fabantou had now turned his attention on her, rather than her papa. Cosette felt a shiver run down her spine as his eyes fell upon her. "It was an accident that happened while she was working away on a machine – just to make six sous a day. They may be forced to cut her arm off!"

Cosette's eyes widened.

"Really?" her papa asked, alarm in his voice.

The girl wailed even more, clearly distraught at the thought of losing her arm. Cosette found it impossible to focus on the rambling that Fabantou proceeded to do, instead using a spare handkerchief to do a better job of bandaging the girl's hand and wrist. If it is them, they clearly have no more love for Éponine and Azelma now than they did when I was a child in their care...

"Monsieur Fabantou," her papa said suddenly, startling her out of her thoughts. She looked up. Her papa had removed his coat and set it on the back of the broken chair. "I have only those five francs on me, but I'm going to take my daughter home and I'll return this evening; it's this evening, isn't it, that you have to pay?"

"Yes, my estimable gentleman. At eight o'clock I have to be at my landlord's door." There was a strange expression of excitement and something else, possibly sinister, on the man's face. Cosette felt relieved that her papa was going to bring her home now. The sooner she was out of there, the better she would feel.

"I'll be here at six o'clock, and I'll bring you the sixty francs."

"My benefactor!" the man cried. As Cosette watched, he leaned over to whisper something in his wife's ear.

Her papa walked over then to take her arm, and felt once more safe and secure. "Till this evening, my friends," her papa said.

"Six o'clock?" Fabantou asked.

"Six on the dot," her papa replied.

"Monsieur," the elder girl said suddenly. "You've forgotten your overcoat."

"I haven't forgotten it," her papa replied with a smile. "I'm leaving it."

"O, my patron!" the man exclaimed. "My august benefactor. I am dissolving into tears! Please allow me to take you back to your cab!"

Cosette shuddered slightly. She wanted nothing more than to be away from the man. She felt almost guilty for her feelings of anxiety and suspicion, but there was just too much eerie familiarity, and the dark looks from the elder daughter mixed with the name, Éponine, that she had heard the day before were overwhelming.

"If you go out, put this overcoat on," her papa told him. "It is very cold."

The man did so immediately before hurrying out ahead of them. Cosette kept her eyes transfixed on him all the way down the hall and out the door into the cab, afraid that if she looked away, she may miss some sort of hint that her suspicions were true, but the man gave none, and left as soon as the door to the cab closed.

As the cab left, her papa looked at her, a touch of concern on his face. "Did something upset you there, Cosette?"

"Yes, I-" she was about to tell him, but as they pulled away, she thought she saw a familiar face in one of the windows at the Gorbeau House. Was it him? The man from the park and the day before? Her heart fluttered, and her fears melted away again. She had been so close to him, and yet simultaneously so far...

Her papa was waiting for a response, however, so she thought quickly, making something up. Besides, it was best not to upset him needlessly, she had no proof that it had been them.

"The girl, her hand- It's so tragic, I hope something can be done for her," she said softly.

Her papa squeezed her hand gently. "Don't worry too much," he told her gently. "I'm sure all will be fine.

Cosette simply nodded in response, only half paying attention.

"Something else is still troubling you?"

She looked up at him again, and hesitated for a moment. "I- that is- only, be careful when you return tonight with the sixty francs? I thought I-" She shook her head. "Something didn't seem quite right about that place..."

Her papa responded by kissing her head gently. "You have nothing to worry about, Cosette. I will be safe. I promise."