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New World for the Winning

Chapter Twenty-one

…

It was nearly midnight when they got back to London. Éponine, who had for whatever reason been so sporting of the return trip she'd asked to sit at the back, had ended up falling asleep for most of the ride. Azelma fell asleep not long after her, slumping sideways so that her head rested against the drawn-up window. Enjolras found that he kept stealing glances at the back seat in the rearview mirror before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. A glance at the side mirror indicated: Objects are closer than they appear.

He pulled to a stop outside his flat complex and both girls blinked blearily into wakefulness. Azelma, upon rubbing the sleep from her eyes, looked moderately confused and nervous until Enjolras said to her, firmly but gently, "Stay the night."

Her anxious expression remained only a couple of minutes longer before she smiled slightly and nodded in thanks. She spent the night in what had once been Éponine's bed, and Stephen's before that. Enjolras and Eponine crammed themselves into his own bed, Eponine nestling into the crook of his arms and fell back asleep without saying a word.

…

Enjolras found himself waking at around 5am to the sound of shuffling in the living room. He lay there for a moment, blinking in confusion, certain that the noise was part of a dream already forgotten, all the while dimly aware of the need to pee but feeling too lazy to get out of bed. It wasn't until he heard a crashing noise that he found himself getting up as quickly as he could without disturbing Éponine.

He padded quickly into the corridor and found, of all things, Azelma standing in the kitchen, on tiptoe as she tried to reach something from the cupboard. When she realised he was watching her, she blanched and wheeled around to face him, her dark eyes wide. Her thin, pale hands found the hem of her T-shirt and she began to twist at it. "I'm sorry," she burst out in a thin voice, "I-I was just… I mean, I was, well… " She swallowed. "I was… "

"Raiding the cupboards?" asked Enjolras with a raised eyebrow.

Azelma hesitated, then nodded in resignation. "I wasn't nickin' much," she said softly. "Just some o' the teabags and the watermelon chunks and the Harrods cookie jar, cos it was covered in dust and it looked like you hadn't used it in ages. Otherwise I never would have taken it, I swear! And… er… " Perhaps because she realised Enjolras wasn't shouting at her, or had not yet taken her by the scruff of the neck, her expression morphed from frightened to sheepish. "… well, I thought I might take some of the Nature Valley bars. But I knocked down the frying pan." Another pause, then she ambled on, "I left you my tenner on the table to make up for it. I know it doesn't cover everything, but I figured I'd rather the ten quid go to some decent food than Dad's beer."

"That's okay," said Enjolras in a gentle tone, and while he meant it, he was rather taken aback by this news.

"It's just something Mum taught me to do. Raid the cupboards whenever I went to someone else's house. For school projects and stuff, you know, if we had to work in groups. Told me I might as well take advantage o' the situation. 'Specially if the kid's mum put out some Oreos or something. Mum said it was practically an invitation to take more o' their food, and of course she told me to take as many Oreos as I could fit in my pockets. I used to be better at it," she finished lamely. "But… well… I really did leave you ten quid."

"That's all right," said Enjolras again. "Take your tenner. But next time you want some food, just ask, okay?"

Azelma blushed, then nodded, and removed four granola bars from the box of Nature Valley, which she slipped into her bag, still looking extremely sheepish. "I was just gonna go."

"This early?"

She nodded. "Mum'll kill me if she notices I've been out this long. She won't have noticed really," she added earnestly, "but, well, she might if I'm not at home by 6am."

"Well, if you insist, then," said Enjolras uncertainly. "Need a lift?" Azelma shook her head. "Okay. Well, see you then, I hope." Azelma nodded, then made to go. At the door to the flat, he stopped her again. "But Azelma – get out, okay? Soon as you can."

A ghost of a smile flicked over her face. "Don't worry," she said. "I will. Soon as I'm eighteen. And oi – I'll keep in touch, on and off, maybe, but… yeah. I'll keep in touch."

They were interrupted by the sound of shuffling footsteps, and Enjolras turned around. Éponine materialised behind him, blinking and bleary-eyed. She did not say a word to him, but rather, studied Azelma. Azelma, for her part, stood there, looking rather sheepish.

"Whatever are you doing?" asked Éponine at last. "You're not… leaving?"

"Yes," Azelma confirmed. "I'm sorry."

Éponine seemed to wake up a bit more. "No," she said. "You are not. Stay here with us." She did not so much as give Enjolras a sidelong glance, and there was a pointed authority in her voice that made it plain she would not take no for an answer.

"Actually," said Enjolras, glancing at her quickly, "that's a brilliant idea. Great."

Azelma stared, her eyes wide. "D'you mean… here, with you in your flat? Like, live with you? Seriously?" When both Éponine and Enjolras nodded firmly, her eyes widened and a hint of a hopeful smile lit her face. "I… I'd love to, but… " The expression crumpled. "I don't reckon I could. Mum an' Dad – "

Éponine cut across her. "If your father is anything like mine, then I quite imagine he shouldn't care, if I might say so. He shan't go looking for you. Your mother might spare herself a bit of worry, once in a while, but she shall not go out of her way to mourn you. I know what they are like, Azelma. Remember, they're nearly my parents too. You will be safer – happier – here with us. I daresay there's room enough."

"And if you like, I could help you find a job at the Musain," Enjolras added.

Azelma pressed her lips together briefly, then broke into her broadest grin yet. "If you really mean it," she said slowly, "then I appreciate it. Really. I mean, appreciate's sort of a weak word, innit? I can't really… Yes. I'll stay." Éponine moved as if to throw her arms around her neck, but Azelma held up a finger. "But I can't just leave them hanging like that. I've got to at least leave a note."

…

The back room of the Musain had come to be something of a curiosity to Éponine: she had been reasonably familiar with the room hidden away upstairs in the Musain of Paris 1832, and upon first entry of the back room of this world's Musain, she had felt terribly disoriented and out-of-place. Of course, such were all her feelings in regards to this world. Now that she had established herself a new home, she felt bizarrely familiar with the room of this world's Musain, despite that she had only set foot there once before.

Predictably, she and Enjolras were the first to arrive, so while Enjolras skimmed some articles he'd printed of newspaper websites, Éponine settled back into one of the chairs and made herself comfortable. Lily the barmaid was doing the drinks, and though she smirked when Éponine made of point of asking for a drink without alcohol, she was generally friendly.

"Grantaire's gonna be late," Enjolras announced to her at one point out of the blue.

Éponine looked up from Jane Eyre, which she was about three-quarters of the way through now. "Shall he be? Is he late every day, or has he… notified you with that mobile?"

"Well," Enjolras explained, "either he's late or he's already here by the time I arrive, and proper pissed, too. So since he's not here, I reckon it'll be the former."

"Oh." Éponine smiled and nodded, but she was remembering something Marius had once told her back in Paris. It struck her, suddenly, that she had not really thought about Marius for quite a while, neither the one of this world or of 1832, and it had been even longer since she'd yearned for him. It struck her as odd, now, that she'd ever been so very infatuated with him. He had been handsome, she could hardly deny that, and she'd been drawn to the kindness he'd always shown her. But why was it that she had not been willing to settle for the friendship that he'd been so happy to offer her? Thinking back, she felt that she had been incredibly naïve back then, so very like a schoolgirl. As she puzzled over it, Éponine found that she couldn't for the life of her understand just what it had been about Marius Pontmercy that had left her so very in love. After much pondering, she shook it off. The matter was of little import now. She had Enjolras, and he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. It was more than enough. An indifferent little sigh, and she went back to Jane Eyre.

The hour drew near eight o'clock, and in the next fifteen minutes or so the other members of Enjolras' group trickled in. First came Combeferre, who offered Éponine a friendly nod before beginning to run over some notes of his. Joly and Musichetta arrived shortly afterwards; they greeted everyone briefly, then settled down in a chair together and began snogging with a passion that seemed to border on the obscene. Laigle and Feuilly came next; followed by Marius and Cosette, with whom Éponine unexpectedly found herself striking up casual conversation; then Courfeyrac and Jehan, the both of them so deeply involved in an argument that seemed to be concerned with whether it was a vulture or an eagle eating out Prometheus' liver in Greek mythology, that no-one bothered trying to greet them. Éponine was in the middle of explaining the concept of fetching water in 1832 to a fascinated Cosette when someone else burst into the room.

"Hi, hi, sorry, sorry; I was playing football and got distracted – " Gavroche stopped and stared at Éponine with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Oh. Hullo. I didn't think you'd come 'ere."

"Gavroche." Éponine got up from the table and crossed the room to embrace him briefly. She was careful to keep her emotions in check. He may have borne her brother's name and looked like him, but he was not the child she had grown up with, and she had to remind herself that she was not his sister.

Gavroche looked at her with something resembling sympathy. It was clear from his expression that word of Cosette's theory had reached his ears, and that he did not believe it. But he was quite friendly, and genuinely so, when he said, "Enjy was talkin' to me. Said you'd need some ID and stuff so you could get a job or something."

"Don't call me Enjy!" came the automatic retort from across the room.

Gavroche ignored him. "And I guess so you two can run off and get married and such."

Enjolras glowered despite the pink tinge that reached his ears; Éponine blushed furiously, and after a pause, she managed, "Well – perhaps – we might – not yet – anyhow, but whatever do you know about us?"

Gavroche's grin was answer enough. "Anyway," he continued in lofty tones, "you'll need a passport and health ID and a birth certificate and all kinds of stuff. Don't worry, though, I'm gonna help sort all that out. I got connections." Éponine raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Gavroche immediately turned to Enjolras hopefully. "Oi, Enjy. Don't you reckon that after all the work I'll have done, I maybe deserve a chance to get into some o' the action? Maybe assume somethin' of a leadership position in this club?"

"No, Gav," said Enjolras in a tone that suggested his patience was wearing thin, and it took much of Éponine's self-control not to laugh, "you can't take my position, because you're a child."

"I'm a teenager!" said Gavroche indignantly.

"You're eleven."

Gavroche looked extremely put out by this bit of truth. "Well, I will be a teenager in sixteen months," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping over to sulk in a seat as far from Enjolras as he could find.

A few minutes went by before Enjolras cleared his throat and stood up on his chair. "Well," he said, as Éponine leaned forward with interest, "I reckon that Grantaire will only show up when the meeting's started, so let's start now. First off, we've got a new member joining us and I don't think I need to tell you who she is."

Every head in the room turned to look at Éponine.

"And look," he went on stoutly, "you've all heard her story. It doesn't really matter if you believe her or not. But she's with us now and that's all I reckon any of you should be caring about. And that's all I'm gonna say about it. Okay. Secondly, I've been checking out your latest blog posts, Jehan, and I they're great, but you should probably – "

It was that moment that Grantaire chose to burst in. He shouldered the door shut, caught sight of Éponine, grinned, and crossed the room swiftly to sit down next to her, completely disregarding the fact that Enjolras was in mid-speech.

"Hey, Mum," said Grantaire in a low voice as Enjolras went back to speaking about blogs.

Éponine arched one brow and gave him a small nod of greeting.

"Nice to see you about here," said Grantaire casually. "It true what I heard Enjy saying coming in? You a member now?"

She nodded again, not wanting to interrupt Enjolras, and Grantaire grinned. "Ah, 'Ponine. Well, of course you are. Knew he'd rope you into it eventually."

"I have joined by choice."

His grin widened. "Well. Of course you have."

The meeting continued on, Éponine listening with genuine interest. Eventually Enjolras sat down next to her and Courfeyrac stood up, beginning to discuss his ideas for a new "design" for the blog.

Enjolras leaned close to her. "Poor you. You probably have no idea what he's talking about, do you, love?"

She shook her head slightly. "I'll explain later," Enjolras murmured. He paused, then whispered, "Come here, love."

Obligingly, Éponine dragged her chair closer to his and found herself leaning against his shoulder, her eyes still on Courfeyrac. As she listened to him speak, trying to understand at least part of what he was saying, she felt Enjolras' arms wrapping themselves around her, holding her close and warming her, a reminder that, finally, after one bitter lifetime of searching and yearning, here, reborn in this reciprocal world, she was home.

…

FIN