53

As they rounded the corner themselves, they saw the hem of Inès' skirt disappearing around yet another building.

"How did that even start?" Enjolras demanded, quickening his steps as Éponine began to move faster.

"I'm not really sure," Éponine said, "But I was having a – uh, well, an argument, I suppose, with Inès' sister and then they were fighting. I think, but I'm not sure, I think that Inès' sister may have tried attacking me?"

Enjolras sighed. "You don't seem able to keep yourself out of trouble," he said, his tone lightly chiding.

"I didn't ask for Inès' sister to start arguing with me," Éponine objected, and then broke out into a run. She could hear Enjolras' footsteps speed up behind her.

The scene that met her eyes as she rounded the next corner was one that surprised her. Inès was a small figure, still running in the distance, but Valjean was kneeling on the ground, collecting together what looked like a heap of shirts lying amongst some torn brown paper.

Enjolras suddenly overtook Éponine to crouch besides the older man. "Do you need some help?" Éponine heard Enjolras ask. Éponine came to a halt next to them.

"Yes, thank you," Valjean said, sounding incredibly weary. "I assume she was in a hurry..."

"Inès knocked into you?" Éponine said through a groan. "I am so sorry, monsieur – she's just had a shock, that's all..."

"It is no matter," Valjean sighed, wrapping the brown paper the best he could around the shirts lying on the ground. Enjolras held a few out to him as well. "I can't get the hang of this conjuring business – so I went to some shops...Your friend...The nice fellow..."

"Combeferre?" Éponine guessed.

"Yes," Valjean said, accepting the shirts off Enjolras. "He accompanied me, and we had just parted ways...Ah, do you think that girl will be all right?"

"She should be," Éponine said, taking the hastily wrapped parcel off Valjean so he could get to his feet. She watched as he brushed dust off his coat. "She's just a bit...uh..."

"Fragile," Enjolras supplied. "That's one word for what she is. Temperamental might be more accurate. She's..."

"She's recently been reunited with her family," Éponine explained. "But she doesn't really get along with them, but they're very persistent and she finds them very stressful. She's also just lost..." She realised who she was speaking to, and cleared her throat. "She lived with Fantine. I think Fantine was like a mother to her, they were very close, and she's still...grieving."

"As I said, it is no matter," Valjean said, gently taking the parcel back off her and tucking it under his arm. "I should have been paying more attention myself."

"So should she," Éponine said, shaking her head. "She'll apologise to you at some point, I promise –"

Valjean held up one hand. "There's really no need, Éponine," he said. "I am not hurt, and dust can be brushed off my clothes. I just hope that she is all right..."

"She'll apologise," Éponine said, firmly.

Valjean smiled, and glanced at Enjolras. "If you insist," he said. "I'll be on my way though...It might be best for you to catch up with her..."

He bade them goodbye and carried on walking.

"Try not to worry too much," Enjolras said in a soft voice as they began to move again, tracing Inès' path. "She'll be fine."

"I know," Éponine muttered, wanting to start running again. Inès could no longer be seen, but Éponine had made sure to watch her disappearing form so that they knew what direction she had gone in. When they reached the end of the street, Éponine indicated they turn left.

That street was empty, but there was only one turn at the end of it, going right, so they took it. At the end of that street there was a group of people, all of them familiar. Éponine broke out into a run.

"Inès!" she called.

Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Prouvaire and Feuilly were stood around her, and Bahorel actually had his hands on her shoulders. His massive frame dwarfed her, and he was bending down slightly so that their faces were level with each other.

"Let – me – go!" Inès was shouting.

"Calm down," Bahorel said, his voice almost as loud but not quite a shout.

Éponine reached them. "Inès," she said. "Please, don't run off, I just want to talk to you..."

"I don't...I hate them," Inès said, wrenching herself out of Bahorel's grip and turning towards Éponine. There were tears running down Inès' face and her nose and mouth were all scrunched up. Her head suddenly tipped forwards heavily onto Éponine's shoulder, as if it was the heaviest thing in the world and she simply couldn't hold it up any longer.

Éponine wrapped her arms around Inès and held her tightly. Her eyes met Bahorel's, who was still hovering behind them, and then she let them travel so that she had exchanged a nod with Prouvaire and Courfeyrac too.

"We should get you home..." Éponine murmured against Inès' head.

"You can go to ours," Enjolras spoke from behind her. "It's nearer."

"Thank you," Éponine said, stroking a hand over Inès' hair.

"Is she going to be all right?" Bahorel said.

"Yes," Éponine said with a nod. "Come on, Inès..."

Inès didn't move, just burrowed her head further into Éponine's shoulder.

"What happened?" Bahorel pressed.

Éponine tilted her head backwards and glanced at Enjolras. He seemed to take the hint and spoke. "She got into a fight," Enjolras said. "With...Her sister, I think?"

"She's not my sister," Inès spat, wrenching her head away from Éponine and glaring at Enjolras. "Not anymore. Until she died I hadn't seen her since I was nine, I barely know the woman –"

"All right, all right," Éponine murmured. "Come on, we're going to Enjolras'..."

This time, Inès allowed herself to be turned around slightly, and Éponine kept her arm around Inès' shoulder. Bahorel and Prouvaire stepped out of the way, their faces grave.

As they began to move away, she heard Bahorel speaking quietly and the voices of Enjolras and Courfeyrac replying. Then Bahorel's voice filtered out until it was just Enjolras and Courfeyrac. A quick look over her shoulder told her that the two men were following them. She managed a small smile when she saw that Courfeyrac was still wearing that bright blue coat.

" – Enjolras, I don't know what you find so objectionable –"

"It's just inappropriate!"

"How is it inappropriate? Actually, don't answer that, because I don't want to hear it –"

"Of course you don't," Enjolras responded. Éponine didn't have to look at him; his tone was scoffing enough.

"It is none of your business," Courfeyrac retorted, his tone uncharacteristically hot.

Éponine glanced over her shoulder again. "Is everything all right?" she said.

Both men nodded. She didn't believe them, but then Inès let out something like a whimper so she turned her attention back to her and squeezed Inès' shoulders.

A few moments passed, and then the men began to whisper again.

"Just stop being so awkward," Courfeyrac hissed. "Now isn't the time for your –"

"I just don't want anyone being hurt," Enjolras cut him off. His voice was a little louder, and harsher.

"Neither do I!" Courfeyrac now sounded exasperated. "My god, what do you think I'm going to do?"

"I thought everything was all right?" Éponine called back to them.

"It is," Courfeyrac replied easily, his tone now lighter and more warm than hot. "Is Inès...?"

"I'm awake," Inès spat.

"Don't be rude," Éponine admonished.

"Who? Me or them?" Inès glowered up at Éponine. "They're the ones acting like I'm not here –"

"Both of you," Éponine said, squeezing Inès' shoulders once more.

The two men didn't squabble anymore, and they walked the rest of the way to their flat in silence.

Enjolras let them in, and they found Combeferre inside with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow, slicing a loaf of bread. His eyebrows disappeared into is hairline when he saw them all.

"I thought you were going drinking with Bahorel...?" Combeferre said, putting aside the knife.

"Inès is upset," Courfeyrac responded.

"Yes, I can see that," Combeferre said. He let out a little sigh. "Sit down. Would you like something to drink?"

"Do you have any Bliss?" Inès asked, voice watery.

Combeferre glanced at Éponine. "It can't hurt," Éponine said. "I won't let her drink too much."

"We do have some," Courfeyrac said, brushing past Enjolras towards one of the cabinets whilst Éponine and Inès sat on their sofa. Courfeyrac crouched in front of the cabinet and opened it, pulling out two bottles containing the clear liquid. "Enjolras, would you please get us some glasses?"

Enjolras' face was oddly stony, but he turned on his heel and walked over to another cabinet, retrieving a selection of short crystal glasses that he placed on the side next to Combeferre's loaf.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?" Combeferre said, sitting on the sofa opposite them.

Éponine watched Courfeyrac walk past them towards the glasses and begin to fill them. She remained silent in order to give Inès a chance to talk for herself. Eventually, Inès began to talk in a shaking voice, explaining about her mother turning up outside the apartment and then Éponine's altercation with Gabrielle.

"Then, when Éponine turned away, Gabrielle...She went for Éponine." Inès coughed and accepted the glass that Courfeyrac was pressing into her trembling hands. "And it made me angry, because Éponine is my friend and I don't understand why the violence was needed...I know I reacted...Violently, but..."

"I could have handled it myself," Éponine murmured. Courfeyrac held out a glass to her. She took it, and their fingers brushed together. She looked up and their eyes met; he gave her a small smile and then let go of the glass and stepped back. Composing herself, Éponine turned towards Inès once more.

She watched as Inès tipped the entire contents of her glass into her mouth and swallowed with one practised gulp. Éponine sighed quietly, and took a sip of hers.

"We were always...arguing, even as children. Misbehaving. Up to all sorts, all the time, and I always felt like they all hated me, even then, because I was..." She pressed her face into one of her hands. "I used to argue back with them. But we were just...children. I don't even remember how we ended up drifting apart, but we did, and I can't say that I ever...I can't say I ever loved them. Not really. When we were together, I was too young and we were too mean, and when we were older...Well..." She gestured at herself and let out a mirthless laugh. "I never really got much older. I couldn't have been away from them for more than...say, a couple of years I suppose, before I..." She suddenly lurched forwards and put the glass down on the small wooden table between the sofas.

The word 'died' remained unsaid, but it hung heavy in the air between them. Inès kept her hand on the top of the glass, one finger tapping lightly as she stared into space.

"You don't have to see them," Éponine said. "Remember that."

"I know," Inès said. "I didn't plan on it. I really...I really do hate them. Gabrielle." She closed her eyes. "Is that bad? To hate your family?"

"No," Éponine said. "I hate most of mine. I'd hate to see how they would be if they suddenly died and turned up here."

Courfeyrac appeared, with the bottle of Bliss. "Would you like some more, Inès?"

"Yes, please," Inès said, moving her hand out of the way so he could pour some of the drink into her glass. As she had before, Inès drank it all at once, but kept the glass cradled in her lap this time, turning down the next offer to have her glass topped up.

"We'll just try to stay out of their way," Éponine said, taking another sip of her own drink.

"What do they want from you?" Enjolras asked. He had been hovering somewhere behind them, but now he came to stand beside Courfeyrac next to the sofas.

"They want..." Inès let out a short bark of a laugh. "They – my mother – wants us to be a family."

"And that is a repellent idea to you?" Enjolras looked thoughtful.

"Have you not been listening to me?" Inès spat. "I don't want anything to do with them! They're not my family, not anymore. I've never needed them before, and I don't need them now, and I don't want to be a part of it."

"Why are the rest going along with it?" Enjolras asked, folding his arms over his chest. "Surely they all feel the same way that you do?"

Inès rolled her eyes. "I drifted from them, and they drifted from our mother, but they...They more or less stuck together, until they all died, one by one," Inès said, her voice bitter. "They always got along better than I ever did with them."

Éponine reached out on instinct and curled her fingers around Inès and gave them a small squeeze. Inès had been the odd one in her family; Éponine thought she knew how that felt, in some ways, because of her occasional rebellion against her father. But she had never been as submissive as Azelma, but she'd also never been as openly rebellious as Gavroche. Éponine had been the only one of their family to even try and bridge the gap between her and her youngest sibling, but even then Gavroche had initially protested the idea of having to live with her. Could that have been because he felt the same way as Inès about his family? The idea made her feel unwell. Maybe Gavroche would understand how Inès felt a little better. He, too, had been the one to strike out completely on his own.

But she could empathise in her own way, because she knew she would object just as strongly at being expected to live with her mother and father if they suddenly turned up.

That thought on her mind, Éponine gave Inès' hand another squeeze. Her eyes met Combeferre, and he gave her a small, encouraging smile.

"Sometimes," he said, "it is the bonds we choose to make that are more powerful than the bonds we have in blood. I, for example, feel that Courfeyrac and Enjolras are like my brothers; they really might as well be, for all the difference it makes."

This time, it was Inès that squeezed Éponine's hands. "I know," she whispered. "It...It doesn't make me a bad person, does it?"

"Never," Éponine said, her tone fierce as she pulled Inès into a hug. "You are not a bad person, not for this. Never for this."

It was about an hour later that Éponine and Inès decided to return back to their apartment. They had it from good authority from Courfeyrac that Gavroche had spent the day with Feuilly, and had said he would be back that evening, so the two girls had decided they'd conjure some cakes for him. Éponine knew that it would distract Inès and hopefully help to ease Gavroche into the idea of moving.

Combeferre was the one to show them to the door. Ines hurried down the steps, but Éponine hovered in the doorway a little while longer; she looked past Combeferre and saw that Enjolras and Courfeyrac were beginning to talk to one another. She remembered their bickering from earlier on in the day.

She nodded at the two men, then looked up at Combeferre. "They were arguing before," she said. "As we walked over here. I think they thought they had fooled me, but I noticed. I just thought I would tell you, so you're aware."

Combeferre looked weary and wary both at the same time, and his head twitched, as if he was going to turn and look at them. "Yes," he said. "That does seem to be starting to happen with alarming frequency, unfortunately. Try not to worry about it. I'm sure they'll...I'm sure they'll sort it out eventually."

"Éponine! Can we go?" Inès called, her voice coloured with impatience.

"Coming!" Éponine shouted in response, then said in a lower voice, "Good luck with them."

Combeferre smiled at her. "And good luck to you too, in dealing with them," he said.

She returned his smile and turned on her heel, starting down the stairs to meet Inès on the street. However, she could not miss the sounds of raised voices coming from within the apartment she had just left, and they echoed in her head even once Combeferre had closed the door.