Chapter Twenty Five

The Last Dream

Clementine cried alone in her room for the rest of the day, wishing she had Jehan's book to somehow comfort her. She finally fell into a fitful sleep not long after midnight after crying herself empty.

She somehow was not surprised to find herself in Jehan's bedroom, sat on the foot of his bed. Jehan was sat cross-legged behind her, staring into space. He wasn't even looking at her.

She twisted her body and moved towards him. "Jehan?" she said.

He blinked at her. "I'm going to lose you too," he said. "I saw the fortune teller today. She explained."

Clementine bit her lip. Her eyes felt hot again.

"It can't be true," she said. "It can't be. I refuse – I refuse to believe it." She cupped his face in her hands. "It can't be true, can it?"

He looked down at her. There was some life in his eyes, she realised, which was an improvement on last time.

"I don't see how it can be false," he murmured. "So you're going to marry my…"

"Don't say it," Clementine said, fiercely.

"Don't saying it won't make it not true," Jehan replied, but he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "What a mess we're in."

"It's not a mess," Clementine said, and the tears spilled over. "That's what you told me. The fates found a way to let us meet – surely they'll find a way for us to stay together!"

"But we're not supposed to be together," Jehan said. "I'm supposed to marry someone else, and you…" He closed his eyes. "I've seen him. He looks just like me, but his hair is a bit different. He makes you happy." He let out a low, bitter laugh. "I suppose that was the trick, really. They let me dream of you at your happiest, so I would want to make sure you lived."

"Those dreams don't mean anything," Clementine said. "Do you know why? I'm not going back there – I'm going to stay here, with you, and we're going to be happy."

"But I've seen you – I've seen how happy he makes you, my grandson. I think you're happier with him than you would be with me," he said, quietly.

"Don't say that," Clementine said. "How could you say that?"

"Because I'm broken," Jehan said. "What happened on the barricades – it's changed me. And you – you're still young and have your whole life ahead of you. You have freedom in your time. You're at university, you can speak Greek and Latin, and you want to become a teacher. You've told me this. You can't achieve any of that here. It's not possible."

"But…"

"You wouldn't be happy if you can't have any of that," Jehan said. "And that man – my grandson – he'll support you through it."

"You could come to live with me," Clementine said, desperately.

"Would I be happy there, though?" Jehan wrapped his arms around her, held her tightly. "Would I be able to just fit in? Because I don't think I would. It'd be too complicated."

"You can't just give up!" Clementine shouted, wriggling in his arms. "You can't just give up! What happened to love conquers all?"

He pressed a kiss to the top of Clementine's head and held his mouth there. "I still believe that."

"So why are you giving up?" she whispered.

"I'm not," Jehan objected. "I'm just…I'm just trying to look at this in the best way possible. Clementine, we're not meant to be together."

"No, we are," Clementine said, pulling away from him. "We are. And we will be. You know why? Because I am going back to my own time and I am going to find that fortune teller and I am going to make her let us be together. I won't give up!"

Jehan smiled at her. "And I hope…I hope you manage it," he murmured. "I really do."

She lifted her head up and their lips somehow met. But the kissing was fleeting and didn't last long enough, because when she opened her eyes, she was back in her room once more.

III

The next morning, she felt a lot calmer. She knew what she had to do. She had to go and find the fortune teller, and persuade her to change things so that she and Jehan could be together.

She woke early, showered, and dressed. She even took the time to eat some breakfast before leaving the flat. She followed the now familiar route to Margaux's shop, aware that her steps were mechanical. She was barely thinking about what she was doing, until she was stood outside the shop.

She stared up at it. It looked the same, but…different. Something was off about it. Then she realised – the sign, proclaiming it to be a fortune teller's, was gone, and there was no Open sign on the door, or a Closed one.

Clementine stepped up to the door and tried the handle. The door was locked fast. There was barely any give in it at all. It wouldn't budge.

She stepped back, confused. She moved forwards, battering the door with her fists until her hands ached and she was sure it would probably have come up in bruises by tomorrow.

"Please," she whispered, stopping and leaning her forehead against the door. "Please, just open up."

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, pressed against the door. When she pulled away, her face was damp.

"Open up," she said, looking up at the shop.

But she knew that the door wasn't going to open. She knew it wasn't going to open ever again. She knew that Margaux was long gone, and she knew she wouldn't see her again.

She sat on the bench opposite for a few more minutes, staring at the shop. What was she supposed to do now, she thought to herself. The ghost of Jehan's last kiss still upon her mouth – she could still feel the warmth of his body against hers, how comfortable it felt to be in the circle of his arms, and how gentle his touch was.

She closed her eyes, trying to make it feel real again.