Author's Notes: So here we are….the end. This is the first of a double-update, with the epilogue coming in about *looks at watch* five minutes. I haven't actually looked to see if I have any reviews for the last chapter, but for anyone who did review – thank you. It means a lot.
There's a darkness, which comes without a warning
And so I finish as I began – alone. After I fainted the mayor brought me to the factory infirmary, and when I awoke he explained that he has paid all my debts. But still the Thernadiers write, asking for more and more. Inventing silly things they've had to buy Cosette that they've "just remembered". At my dictation the mayor wrote a short letter to the Thenardiers, instructing them to "hand Cosette to the bearer". As soon as he had time, he promised to send someone to fetch her.
I hope it will be soon – I don't think I can last much longer.
What a change from the pretty girl who ate apple-turnovers at the Tete-Noire only a few years ago. My hair, my beautiful hair, cropped to a blonde crown on my scalp. I don't smile anymore, no matter how hard the nuns try to make me laugh, because I don't like to show my gap – on the top, in the middle.
They gave me a mirror, but I smashed it.
Monsieur Madeline hasn't been to visit for a long time. My cough has grown worse, my ribcage rattles with every breath and my head pounds. My sleep is ruined my nightmares that I die before my Cosette is returned to me. I want to tell him all of these things, hoping that the nightmares at least will make him go and fetch Cosette himself.
I shouldn't say that. He's been very kind to me; he's just too busy at the moment. That's what he said.
The clock on the wall (the one that keeps me awake with it's terrible ticking) shows that it is three o'clock. The mayor always comes to see me at three. I sit up straight, preparing myself. The sisters smile and whisper amongst themselves – with occasional glances in my direction. I hear the word "prostitute". For a moment I wonder who they're talking about. I nearly ask if there is another woman here, a prostitute.
But then I realise they're talking about me. I was a prostitute. I was one for such a short amount of time, but that's how they refer to me. A prostitute. They don't care that I can hear them – to them I'm a ghost. A thing not capable of speaking or hearing or even having an opinion. A thing they only put up with out of respect and affection for Monsieur Madeline.
Everyone likes Monsieur Madeline. He's kind and gentle. He's going to bring my daughter back.
Four o'clock. My rigid posture slackens a little. The sisters leave, still whispering. They don't think he's coming, they think he's finally forgotten about the prostitute. I know he hasn't, the mayor doesn't forget things easily.
Five o'clock. I finally admit defeat and sink back against my pillows. He's not coming. He's doing something more important. Lots of things are more important than coming to talk to a dying prostitute. Because I am dying. When you're dying, you know. We had a boy, under our bridge, who caught cholera – or some such disease. He knew he was dying four weeks before it actually happened. He said, "I feel like I'm sinking slowly into a black hole" and that's how I feel.
"But since I shall be going tomorrow, it is wrong of him not to come today" I murmur, before realising I was speaking aloud.
I returned to my thoughts. What could he be doing? He's never missed our three o'clock "meetings" before. And then it hits me. Cosette! Of course, he's gone to fetch her as a surprise for me! He did talk about her a lot yesterday, wanting to know her birthday, her favourite colour and what she likes to do. It was yesterday that it really struck me – I know nothing of my daughter. She is eight years old now, and I haven't seen her since she was nearly three. I don't know what she likes to do, although I made some things up for the mayor, I don't even know if I would recognise her now.
Something suddenly brought me out of my thoughts. One of the sisters and a girl I didn't know were talking quietly about the mayor.
I thrust my head through the curtains surrounding my bed. "You're talking about Monsieur Madeline! Why are you whispering? What is he doing? Why hasn't he come?". My voice sounds rough and hoarse even to me, I haven't spoken louder than a whisper for so long. The two women stare at me blankly.
"Answer me!" I wailed desperately.
The girl I didn't know stammered that the mayor couldn't come today, and the sister ordered me to calm down.
I didn't listen, and raised my voice even higher. "He can't come? Why not? You were talking about it, I want to know!"
The girl whispered something to the sister, who flushed slightly before fixing her eyes on me. "The mayor has gone out of town"
I remembered my thoughts from earlier, and believed them to be confirmed as true. I broke into my first real smile in months – not caring about my missing teeth. "He's gone out of town? He's gone for Cosette!"
My headache was gone, all my aches disappeared. I had something to live for. I gave the sister another wide smile. "I'll lie down again. I'll do anything I'm told. I behaved badly just no, I shouldn't have shouted. I hope you will forgive me. I'm happy now. Monsieur Madeline is kind. He has gone to Montfermeil to fetch my little Cosette!" I lay back and helped the sister to tidy up the bed.
"You must rest child," she said gently. "You mustn't talk anymore"
How could she ask me not to talk when there was so much to talk about? "When I asked him about Cosette yesterday he said "soon" – do you remember? He wants to surprise me!"
The sister sighed, and attempted to shush me.
I ignored her. "Please sister, don't stop me talking. I feel so happy. I feel so well. I shall see Cosette again! Oh, and it's so good of Monsieur Madeline to have gone for her! And they'll be here tomorrow. Tomorrow is the great day!".
The sister smiled at me.
I was startled by how normal my voice sounded; I was sounding like myself again. I hadn't coughed between words. When the sister begged me again to lie down, I obeyed.
Tomorrow! I would finally see Cosette tomorrow! My doubts were gone, she'd recognise me – mothers and daughters have a bond. We'd meet again, and she would know me at once.
The doctor called, and I told him I hoped a little bed for Cosette would be put beside mine. He nodded, and went to speak with the sister. I could tell he was surprised by how much better I was. I overheard him say "there's a real improvement" and "perhaps we shall save her after all."
I slept well that night.
And I woke calmly, to find Monsieur Madeline stood over me – lips moving silently in prayer. I peered behind him, and finding no sign of my daughter asked "and Cosette?"
I was certain his face fell slightly.
"Why did you not sit her on my bed ready for when I woke up?"
He murmured. Something about the journey being very long.
"She could have slept here" I told him. "They're going to put a little bed for her, right next to mine. Why don't you bring her here?"
The doctor arrived, and stopped the mayor from answering me. He smiled and said, "you must keep calm. Your little girl is here"
"Oh!" I cried, unable to make any other sound. "Won't someone bring her in?"
"Not yet" the doctor said. "First you must get well"
"But I am well!" I shrieked. "Why have you brought her here, only to keep her from me? I want to see my baby!"
The doctor shook his head. "See how quickly you become agitated. When you are calmer, I will bring her to you myself."
In desperation, I looked at Monsieur Madeline – surely he could see how cruel they were being? But he stood still in prayer, not even looking at me.
I turned back to the doctor. "I beg your pardon, Monsieur le Medicin. At one time I wouldn't have spoken like that, but so many things have happened to me now I don't always know what I'm saying." I continued to tell him I understood, but really I didn't. I was calm, the calmest I'd ever been.
My attentions now returned to Monsieur Madeline, who had moved so that he was sitting on my bed. I enquired about his journey, about the Thenardiers – all in the calmest tone I could manage, with sideways glances at the doctor. The questions were all answered with nods.
"Did you think her pretty Monsieur le Maire?" I asked. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
He took my hand. "Cosette is beautiful. You will soon see her, but now you must rest."
I obeyed and we sat in silence. All of a sudden I heard a child laughing and singing in the yard. Cosette!
"I can hear her!" I cried. "My darling, I can hear her!"
The laughter disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. I wondered if maybe I had dreamt it, indeed the mayor did look at me rather strangely – as though he could not hear it. I quietly began to tell him of all my plans for Cosette; her first communion, how our house would have a little garden. But, mid-flow, I glanced up to the doorway and saw a figure.
A tall figure. One dressed in the uniform of an inspector. It was Inspector Javert! He'd come to take me away, why else would he be here? But not now, not when I finally had Cosette!
The mayor hadn't seen him, he was sitting with his back to the door. But he saw the horror on my face. "Fantine, what's the matter?"
I simply pointed behind him, my hand shaking. "Monsieur Madeline! Save me!"
The mayor turned, and calmly said "he hasn't come for you". Then sharply to Inspector Javert – "I know what you're here for"
I didn't understand. My headache came back with vengeance, and I rubbed my forehead with my hands, which were hot. Bravely, through my fingers, I glanced at Inspector Javert.. He was glaring at the mayor with the same look he'd given me the night I was arrested.
Inspector Javert suddenly grabbed the mayor's collar, and the mayor let him!
I cried out the mayor's name in disbelief, massaging my aching head – coughs beginning to shake my body.
Inspector Javert laughed. "He isn't the mayor any longer!"
I was starting to weep, every sob sending pains through my head. Suddenly I heard Inspector Javert say "to fetch the woman's child? That's rich!"
I trembled. Cosette wasn't here? They'd lied! The mayor! The doctor! Even the sister! "Where is Cosette? I want to see her!" I cried.
Inspector Javert turned to me. "I tell you there's no mayor here! There's no one but a criminal, a convict called Jean Valjean." After this he looked at the mayor.
It's not true. I looked around the room wanting someone, anyone, to tell me it wasn't true. I tried to talk to the mayor, but all that came out was a whimper. I reached out to him, but my hands groped only thin air.
"It's like sinking into a black hole" the boy's voice echoed in my head. A black hole I was drowning in right now. I made another noise , a gurgle, which sounded like "Cosette", and then fell into the hole completely.
It was like my nightmares. I died without seeing my daughter again.
