Chapter 3: Absence

A heated argument, loud enough for Fantine to hear from outside, was taking place inside the Thenardiers' inn. An angry male voice was speaking: "I don't understand you, Fauchelevent. You come in, order the best room in the house and throw money around like a millionaire, and now you want to steal this girl away from us?"

Fantine heard Monsieur Madeleine respond, his tone of voice much calmer than his adversary's. "Reuniting a child with her mother can hardly be called stealing."

"Her mother? Who, that old hag you brought with you? Ha! Fantine was about twenty years old when she came here with that baby. Don't think you're fooling me for one moment, swindler."

Fantine rushed into the room, holding Cosette's trembling hand. She wondered how to warn her benefactor about Inspector Javert without giving away his identity. Madame Thenardier sat up from her chair and advanced on her. "So, you say you're Fantine, eh? Aged four decades in as many years?" She looked down at Cosette, who was furiously clutching Fantine's waist. "Even got the little girl convinced, too?"

Fantine protested feebly, "Listen to me, I--"

Thenardier stroked his chin. "Maybe we should get the police on these two. They seem like robber types to me - I'll bet they're wanted for something or other. We could get a little reward, no?"

His wife nodded. "Good idea. I saw a few officers over at the town square today. Ponine, dear, go tell them there's a mean-looking couple here trying to make off with our, uh, adopted daughter." A girl of about Cosette's age, with a frilly dress and braided pigtails, turned around in her seat by the fire. She looked confused; apparently, her parents did not usually make her do chores. Eventually she realized what was going on and stood up.

Eponine's delay gave Fantine time to notice her opportunity. Acting the part of the contemptuous "old hag", she spoke up: "Ha! Just see if you get any help from those policemen in the square. They don't have time for money-grubbers like you. I saw them--they're only concerned with catching some runaway criminal. His name was...something like Valjean or Jeanval."

She saw Monsieur Madeleine jump back in surprise, but fortunately, both of the Thenardiers had their eyes focused on her. Their faces were scrunched with frustration. In the moment it took them to turn back to Monsieur Madeleine, he had regained his composure. He took a deep breath and asked experimentally: "How much money will it take to let us leave without bringing the police here? One thousand francs, perhaps?"

Monsieur and Madame Thenardier grinned at each other excitedly. "Well, not turning you in would go against my conscience," the husband said, "so it'll have to be fifteen hundred."

"Done." He reached into his valise and counted out a thick wad of bills. Fantine went wide-eyed; she'd never seen this much money in her life. "And how much to take Cosette with us?" he added.

Madame Thenardier laughed, intoxicated with excitement. "For all that money, you can have the little brat!" The couple nearly skipped up the stairs, clutching their money. Monsieur Madeleine led Fantine and Cosette out the back door, completely unnoticed in the hubbub.

"What was that all about?" Fantine asked. "Has Cosette been living here all this time?"

"Yes" was all the answer he gave. "No more words, now. I must return to Montreuil-sur-mer. I will give you the money I promised you, and the address of your new employer." He fumbled in his valise.

It hurt Fantine that this man would try to deceive her even now. "I know who you are," she said, quietly but firmly. "You're Jean Valjean, aren't you? The criminal?" He said nothing, only averted his eyes in shame and nodded. "What was your crime? How did you hide in our town for so long? Why did you finally leave, and - and - why did you bring me along?" Her eyes filled with tears. "I thought you were my friend. I thought I understood you, when in truth I knew nothing about you at all."

He responded with pain in his voice. "I'm sorry, Fantine, but I can't answer your questions right now. I have no time; I must escape before Javert finds me. All I can do is promise you this. Go to the address on this card." He handed her a piece of paper and some money, all without looking up from the ground. "As soon as the police stop searching so heavily for me, I will come to you and tell you everything you want to know. Perhaps then you will forgive me." Before Fantine could respond, he was gone, picking nimbly through the woods that bordered the town.

Fantine felt sad--angry--hurt--nearly every negative emotion combined into one. Yet life must go on. She hired a coach to Paris, then sought out an educated-looking passerby who could read her card to her. The address meant nothing to her - the neighborhood was much wealthier than any part of Paris she had seen - but the name meant something. Remy Tholomyes. He had the same last name as Felix Tholomyes, Cosette's father. Could they be related?

They arrived at a stately three-story mansion. The well-dressed man who answered the door informed them that the owners were out for the evening, but that they were expecting Fantine and Cosette. Would they like to go upstairs and join the servants' dinner? There would be enough food for them both. He led the pair into a small room where three women, two middle-aged and one young, were sitting around a wooden table. As soon as Fantine and Cosette entered, the younger woman picked up her piece of bread and hurried out of the room.

Noticing the awkwardness, one of the remaining two stood up to greet the new arrivals. "Good evening," she said warmly. "We've been expecting the two of you. Sit down, take some bread and cheese, and let me introduce you to everyone. My name's Yvette; I cook and do a little cleaning as well. You've already met my husband Richard; he's the butler. And that's my cousin Marie, the maid.

Richard swallowed his bread and joined in. "I've heard you're going to take care of little Albert and Amelie, but you still seem a bit sick. We'll ask Madame if Louise can stay a few more days."

"Louise? Is she the one who ran out of the room?" Richard and Yvette both nodded. "Why did she leave?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing that you did," Yvette reassured her. "It's only - wouldn't you be upset if your replacement walked in the room? You were hired because Madame fired her."

"Why?" Cosette asked the obligatory six-year-old-girl inappropriate question.

Yvette's face turned indignant. "It was the most ridiculous reason I've ever heard: because Louise took a lover. She never brought him into the house; they found out from overhearing a conversation between her and me. But our mistress is extremely uptight with morality and religion. Let me give you a word of advice - if you've ever done anything not expressly permitted by the Pope, keep it to yourself!"

Fantine gulped. An hour before, she had hoped that her new employers were related to Felix. Now she was horribly afraid of what might happen if they were.

Madame Tholomyes' behavior the next day completely matched Yvette's description of her. The very first question she asked Fantine was, "You are a widow, are you not? Your daughter is legitimate?" Fantine felt apprehensive - the last time she had lied about Cosette's father, it had ended with her being fired from the factory. The other instructions, such as "Take my children to mass three days per week" and "Ensure that they learn their catechism", did not help matters. Fantine had not been inside a church in years; she had always worked as many hours as possible to pay for Cosette.

The master of the house talked quietly and not often. Fantine later found out that he had not always been so meek. Before his wife had made him give up his "ungodly" ways, he had been a generous and jolly party-goer, loved by everybody - just like his brother Felix. Madame Tholomyes would not let her husband see his "libertine" brother, but Fantine's job was still at risk. Someone might notice the resemblance between Felix and Cosette...

Fantine and Cosette shared a bedroom on the second floor, next to the nursery where the Tholomyes children slept. After Louise left, Fantine took over their care full-time. Albert was five years old, and Amelie was four.

Fantine thought her daughter would be happy to have playmates, but Cosette didn't seem to notice them. She sat in the corner, singing or talking to herself, ignoring the happy laughter of the other two. Even when Amelie offered one of her dolls, Cosette shook her head without a word.

After a few days of this, Fantine began to worry that her daughter's poor health might be to blame. "How are you feeling, my love? Do you still feel sick?" she asked as she tucked Cosette into bed. She was ready for neither the subsequent response, nor the nonchalant way that Cosette gave it:

"Huh? I was never sick. Ponine and Zelma were sick a lot, but not me."

Fantine's voice trembled as she tried to make sense of this. "Then why are you so thin?" she asked lamely.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because Madame Thenardier didn't give me much to eat. She said I was there on charity, so I should be happy I got anything at all."

"Cosette, my dear, I'm so sorry this happened to you..." Fantine wrapped her arms around her as tight as she could. She cried, but her daughter did not. The little girl had stopped crying over her plight long ago, and this broke Fantine's heart more than anything. "What about the new clothes I saw you in? Didn't the Thenardiers buy those for you?"

"No, Monsieur Fauchelevent did. They were the only warm clothes I've ever had. Madame Thenardier used to dress me in Eponine's old cast-aways. She and Azelma said I looked like a scarecrow. They were always so cruel! They wouldn't play with me, or let me play with their dolls, or even talk to me except to be mean. And I had to work all the time, and sometimes they even made me go to the well at night..." Cosette babbled on in this fashion, then stopped abruptly. "Oh, Maman, I'm so sorry! I forgot, Monsieur Fauchelevent said not to talk about this."

Fantine was concerned. "Why did he say that?"

"He said it's over and it doesn't matter anymore. Will we ever see him again, Maman? I like him."

Fantine remembered his promise to visit her, but worried that the iron-willed mistress might somehow fire her before then. She could only say, "I certainly hope so. I like him too."

It was true. She knew her friend was a convict, but the more she thought about him, the more his kindness overshadowed that fact. She tried to think of what crimes a good man might commit--maybe he had stolen something to help someone he loved. Food, perhaps, to feed a starving family? She would have done the same for Cosette.

Then why did the police want him so badly? She could not come up with an explanation, but insisted to herself that some part of the corrupt justice system was to blame. She knew nothing about how the French government worked, but she had the acute awareness of every poor person that it was terribly unjust.

Indeed, she liked this Jean Valjean. And though her rational mind pushed the thought away, some purely emotional part of her felt that she might somewhat, slightly, possibly love him.