52

Fantine and Inès' flat turned out to be very different than Éponine's, and Combeferre's. It had a little entrance room, rather than opening out into the main lounge; there was an archway, through which Éponine could see the lounge, and then two other doors.

One of these doors stood open, revealing a room with a fluffy green carpet and a mahogany table with matching chairs placed in the centre; the walls were covered in shining golden flowers, and large candles sat in the centre of the table.

The other door was firmly closed. Inès shut the door behind them and tucked a stray yellow curl behind her ear. Her other hand curled so tightly around her key that her knuckles went a yellowy white.

"Well, this is it," Inès said. She gestured towards the green room. "That's obviously where we eat."

Éponine nodded, and stayed silent. Inès cleared her throat and edged forwards, towards the archway, turning her back on the closed door.

"And this is the lounge," Inès continued. Éponine followed her. The lounge was nicely decorated, but not necessarily to Éponine's taste; the walls were bright red, and the furniture was all dark mahogany like it had been in the dining room. There was just so much red; there was no break in the colour anywhere, except possibly in shade, and what wasn't red was gold.

"We could redecorate," Inès said. "I never much liked it in here anyway."

"It's...very red," Éponine said.

"Yes," Inès agreed. "Fantine...She...Well, that's how she liked to decorate, I suppose."

There were more doors through here, all of them closed. Inès crossed the room and opened the first one. "This was my room," she said, then frowned. "Or is my room..."

Éponine moved forwards to have a look. Probably because it was Inès' room, this one wasn't as colourful. The walls were a pale blue, the wood pale, and there were frilly white curtains at the windows, the lace frothing down onto the floor.

"I suppose this would stay as my room," Inès said. "If you chose to move here."

"Yes," Éponine agreed. "Unless there's another room..."

"There isn't," Inès said, then backed out of her room, shutting the door behind her. She moved to the other door. "This is Fantine's...I don't know what you'd call it, really," she said. Again, the room was a wall of colour; this time, a rich plum colour. It was very dark in there, despite the light coming in through the window; there was a squashy sofa, an armchair, some blankets thrown over the arm, a bookcase and a desk, but there was also a mannequin in the corner and some fabric heaped in a pile next to it, and Éponine could have sworn she could see the glint of needles stuck into the cloth.

It was really a much smaller version of the lounge, Éponine realised.

"She liked having her own space," Inès explained. "She used to say that the lounge was for guests and this room was for her." Inès sighed, and her face looked sad. "I don't suppose we'd have a use for this room if we moved in. It'd probably have to become a bedroom..."

"Actually, I like it," Éponine said. "Having a separate room. We could change the dining room into a bedroom instead, and move around the things in the lounge to make room for a table. I don't mind the décor in here as much. It's not so...garish."

Inès' expression seemed to brighten a little at the idea of leaving this room as it was. "That sounds like a good idea," she said. "So you like it here so far?"

Éponine nodded. "It's a lot bigger," she said. "We'd have more space – Gavroche would have more space. His toys could be put in here, too..."

"It's strange being in here," Inès murmured. "I keep on expecting Fantine to just...appear."

Éponine and Inès were stood close to each other, so it was easy for Éponine to reach out and grip the other girl's elbow in an attempt to comfort her. "We don't have to do this if you really don't feel comfortable with it," she said. "I respect the fact that this is Fantine's space. I don't want..."

"It's fine," Inès said. "I'm offering, aren't I? As long as we don't touch Fantine's bedroom."

Éponine suspected that Fantine's bedroom lay behind the closed door in the entrance room.

"I wouldn't," Éponine reassured her.

"You would," Inès said, an amused twist to her mouth that almost reached her eyes. "You haven't seen it. Come on. It's hideous, it's marvellous."

Inès hurried back through to the entrance room, and Éponine followed her just as quickly. Inès pushed the closed door open and revealed a room to Éponine that was her idea of a nightmare.

Éponine wasn't sure that she'd ever seen as many different shades of pink as she did in this room. The thick fluffy carpet was a rich, almost purple colour, and the bed sheets were a soft sugary pink; the walls were stripes of cerise and white. The wooden furniture had been stained to match the rest of it, and flowers spilled out of vases everywhere, pink roses and fuchsias and carnations; the frilly curtains at the windows were the orangey pink of a sunset.

It all clashed and yet matched perfectly. Éponine wasn't sure if she'd ever seen a more horrific room in her entire life, and she had seen some terrible examples of décor in some of the gaudier houses she had helped to rob.

Inès watched Éponine's face and then sniggered. "I told you," she said. But then she seemed to sober. "But we're not touching it."

"No," Éponine said. "I wouldn't, Inès."

Inès moved towards the door so Éponine backed out; it was obvious that her viewing time for this room was clearly over. Inès shut the door, and then leaned against it.

"So," she said.

Éponine turned on the spot and cast her eyes around what she could see of the apartment at that minute. It was certainly bigger, and they probably would be more comfortable there; it was also closer to all of their friends than the other apartment, which could only be a good thing.

"Obviously Gavroche needs to see it, too," Éponine said. "It would be his home as well. It's only fair."

"All right," Inès said. "We'll see when he gets back, yes?"

"Of course," Éponine smiled.

They left the flat. Éponine stood on the edge of the landing outside; the flat was on the second floor, lower than the other flat, but she didn't really mind as long as it wasn't on the ground floor. The idea of a ground floor flat made her feel a little uncomfortable.

Inès was locking the door when Éponine gazed down at the street and saw them. She groaned internally, cursing their luck, and turned quickly to warn Inès – but it was too late.

"Inès!" Inès' mother Jeanne shouted up from the street below. Éponine watched Inès' shoulders and back stiffen at the sound; with a scraping sound, Inès shoved the key back in the lock, clearly intending on trying to disappear into the flat again.

Inès' mother wasn't alone; she was accompanied by Inès'...sister, was it? Éponine was fairly certain it was her sister, the older one, the one with the black hair and the missing tooth. Éponine didn't think she'd ever been told the other woman's name.

Before Inès could actually get the door open, however, Inès' mother had begun to climb the stairs. She was moving fast and frantic, and she shouted Inès' name a few more times.

"Yes, we've heard you," Éponine said, intercepting Jeanne at the top of the stairs. She braced her hands on either side of the rails so that Jeanne couldn't get past, although the woman did try and barge through regardless. Éponine planted her feet firmly on the ground. She'd faced down scarier people than Jeanne. "Inès doesn't want to speak to you, and for that matter, neither do I."

"It's none of your business," Jeanne snapped, trying to duck under Éponine's arms.

Éponine placed a warning hand on Jeanne's chest. "Stop," she said, keeping her voice quiet and low. "I told you. Inès doesn't want to speak to you. I suggest you turn around and go back down the stairs and carry on your way and let us go about our business."

"I just want –" Jeanne tried, and Éponine shook her head.

"I really don't care," Éponine said. "For the third time, Inès doesn't want to speak to you. I'm respecting that wish by stopping you from talking to her. Now, turn around, and go back down the stairs."

They stared at each other for a long time. Jeanne's eyes were narrowed, her brow furrowed, but Éponine kept her gaze steady and firm. She wouldn't back down. It would be Jeanne that looked away first, Éponine had no doubts about that.

Eventually, Jeanne grumbled under her breath and climbed down the stairs. Her mutters were audible the whole way. Éponine guarded the top of the landing the whole time, until Jeanne was back down on the street, and then she turned to check on Inès.

Inès had one hand on the door and her head twisted to look down at the street. "Thank you," the girl murmured.

"We should probably go," Éponine said. "Like you said before, Combeferre's isn't far away – we could go there for a bit..."

"Or we could just go home," Inès said.

"Or that," Éponine allowed. "Come on. Let's be quick about it."

Together, the two girls hurried down the stairs. Éponine could see out of the corner of her eyes that neither Jeanne nor Inès' sister had moved, but Inès didn't look at them properly or even acknowledge they were still there. So they carried on walking past them, looking straight ahead as if the two women did not even exist.

They had barely made it a few steps past them before Inès' sister spoke – or more shouted, her tone angry and clipped and offended. And she was not addressing Inès; she was addressing Éponine.

"You cannot talk to my mother like that," the woman said. Éponine stopped walking immediately, even though Inès kept on going for a couple more steps.

Slowly, Éponine turned around. "Sorry?"

"You heard me," the woman said. She folded her arms over her chest, her jewellery gleaming brightly. "You should show her some respect."

"She's upsetting my friend," Éponine said. "I don't need to show her respect. I don't need to show anyone respect. Especially people I don't think have done anything worthy of being respected."

Inès' sister's arms dropped back to her sides and she took an almost threatening step forwards. "I'm getting a bit tired of hearing about how you interfere all the time," she snapped, her tone as harsh as a whip.

"I'm getting a bit tired of your mother hovering outside my home," Éponine shot back. "I'm getting a bit tired of Inès worrying about seeing any of you, because every time she does see you she comes away angry and upset. So please, just leave us alone from now on, and I will not...ah, disrespect your mother in future. I can't if our paths don't cross, but it works both ways." She bared her teeth in something like a smile, and then turned away.

Everything seemed to happen very fast. She heard movement behind her, then a shout, and then something shoved into her hard from the side and sent her sprawling onto the cobbles. If she had hit the ground at that force when she'd been alive, she was sure she would have come away with some cuts and bruises and grazes, but here it just seemed to wind her.

She rolled onto her side, disorientated, and then saw that Inès' sister was lying on her stomach, her legs kicking up as she tried to dislodge Inès who was sat on top of her. Inès' hands were knotted in her sister's hair, as she lifted the other woman's hand.

"Don't try and hurt her again," Inès said, her voice fiery and cold all at the same time.

That was when Inès' sister managed to dislodge Inès and slapped her across the face. It was a good slap; Éponine felt it through the cracking sound that ricocheted through the street, and she winced on Inès' behalf. The sight of the violence stirred something in Éponine's stomach. Angry, she scrambled to her feet. Her ire only increased as Inès' sister managed to land another slap against Inès' other cheek.

It had been a long time since Éponine had been in a fistfight, if you didn't include her scuffles with Douvillier. Particularly a fistfight with another woman; goading other street urchins into provoking a fight with Éponine had been a favourite pastime of some of her father's friends. She'd always preferred her scuffles with men – she knew where she stood with punches and kicks. On the whole, the women she had fought were different, not averse to scratching and biting and hair pulling, and it had always annoyed her (even though she was guilty of doing the same herself).

She was readying herself for wading into the scrap, which now involved Inès actually belting her sister across the face with her hand curled into a fist rather than just slapping her, when Enjolras seemed to appear out of nowhere and wrap his arms around Inès' waist. He yanked her backwards, and she kicked and screamed the whole way, until he set her down on her feet.

Éponine lurched forwards as Inès' sister lunged towards Inès, but it didn't matter, because Enjolras had put his body firmly between Inès and her sister. The expression on his face was downright terrifying, mainly because of the lack of expression; it was all in his eyes, and they were cold, hard chips of ice as he stared down at Inès' sister.

"Gabrielle!" Jeanne shouted. "Stop it! Come on – we should leave!"

"Listen to mother, sister," Inès snarled, and she spat on the floor.

Inès' sister – Gabrielle – looked torn between trying to shove Enjolras out of the way and attacking Inès once more or doing as her mother asked. Eventually, family duty seemed to win out and she trailed after her mother, shooting them furious glances over her shoulder as she retreated.

Éponine recalled the way Inès' head had snapped to one side when Gabrielle had hit her and shouted after the pair, "Stay away from Inès!"

Then she turned her attention back to Inès, and to Enjolras as well.

Inès' cheeks were flushed, her dress was rumpled and her hair was a state; she was also breathing very heavily and her eyes were shining just a little too bright.

"Are you all right?" Éponine asked.

"I hate her," Inès said. "I hate her!"

Éponine took a step towards her, arms outstretched with the intention of doing something comforting, possibly a hug, but Inès veered away from her and took off at a run down the street. She knocked into Enjolras, what with the suddenness of her choice to flee, and he stumbled into Éponine. Éponine gripped his arms to steady him. When she looked, Inès was flying around the corner.

"Thank you," Éponine managed to get out, releasing Enjolras.

"I thought it would be best for me to intervene before you got yourself involved," he said, tone modest. "Should we go after her?"

"Yes," Éponine sighed, rubbing her head. "We probably should."

They nodded at each other, and then set off at a brisk pace to try and catch up with Inès.