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The next morning, after a sleepless night for both of them, Enjolras and Combeferre caught the coach out of Paris and east into the country, where both their neighbouring family estates were located.
Enjolras was silent for the majority of the journey. He spent his time gazing out of the coach window with unfocused eyes, savagely biting his bottom lip and absently toying with his hair.
Combeferre, predicting this turn of events, had brought a novel with him. He and Enjolras had been inseparable since they were children and as a result he could read his friend just like a book. He knew that the blond wanted to be left alone to his thoughts for a while, so they rode in a tense, but companionable silence for the most part. However, from time to time, Combeferre reached out to grasp Enjolras's hand or squeeze his shoulder. Enjolras would return the gesture with a watery smile, glad of the unspoken support.
Generally, Enjolras hated having to having to go home. He was constantly criticised and put down by his bourgeoisie father, who looked down on his youngest son's radical beliefs. His mother had no affection for anything but her public image and she simply agreed empty-headedly with everything his father said.
This time, Enjolras was dreading going home even more than usual. As well as having to face his father and vindictive brothers Louis and Antoine, he was going to have to say goodbye to Christine too – one of the only members of his family that he actually loved. He wasn't sure he could deal with it.
The journey took most of the morning, and the sun was high in the sky before they arrived at the town that was two miles from their family estates. They were grateful to finally be able to stretch their stiff legs and be out in the fresh air once more.
"Shall we just walk up to the house?" asked Combeferre, as they shouldered their bags.
"Yes." answered Enjolras, shaking his hair back. "I think my legs would prefer it and I could do with the air. How about you?"
"The same." said Combeferre and they set off together in the direction of the woods. They made quick work of the paths they had run along as children and were soon deep in the middle of the old trees.
"Etienne?" asked Enjolras quietly, hating the uncertainty in his voice.
"Yes?"
"Isn't there any cure for appendicitis? I don't know anything about medicine. René said they had tried everything but…" his voice trailed off sadly.
"I'm afraid there is no known cure at the moment." said Combeferre gently, touching his shoulder. "They can try and bring her temperature down, they can sedate her, they can give her medicine to keep sustained, but otherwise they can only let it run its course. I'm sorry, Julien, I wish I could say more, but there is no point in getting your hopes up. There is talk of an operation to remove the appendix altogether, but it will be years before the research is completed."
"Thank you." Enjolras sighed, lowering his head sadly. "God, Etienne, I don't want to do this! I hate being in that house, this is going to be even worse than usual!"
"You'll manage, Julien." said Combeferre, tightening the pressure on his shoulder. "Remember, I'll be right beside you every step."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
They stepped through the main door and walked into the large grand hall.
"Julien! It's about time, petit, I was getting worried!" called a deep voice, as a blond figure rushed down the stairs.
"Bonjour, René." replied Enjolras, as he was pulled into an embrace by his eldest brother. René was twenty-nine – ten years Julien's senior – and, while he had not the revolutionary mind of his youngest brother, he was not cold-hearted and arrogant like the rest of the family either. As a result, the eldest and the youngest of the Enjolras brothers got on very well and were quite close.
They both had the same pale skin, sculpted features, blond hair and bright blue eyes but they were the complete opposite in build. René was about half a head taller than his brother and was broad and well-muscled, while Julien was slim and slender.
"Etienne. It is good to see you again." said René, turning to shake the hand of his brother's friend. Combeferre returned the sentiments warmly, noticing how tired and strained Julien's eldest brother looked. "It was good of you to come with him."
"That's what friends are for." replied Combeferre with his usual gentle tone, while, next to him, Julien seemed almost beside himself with impatience and anxiety.
"How is she, René?" he asked urgently. "Can I see her?"
"She's in a bad way, petit." sighed René. "And she's getting worse. Etienne, your father is with her now, but we don't think it's going to be very long."
Julien shut his eyes against the sting of tears and René put his arm around his brother as he led the way upstairs.
"Isn't…isn't there anything you can do for her, René?" asked Julien fearfully, sounding like a lost little seven year old to his protective older brother.
"Julien, I wish there was something I could do!" said René fervently, squeezing his brother tighter. "But she hasn't responded to any of the drugs we gave her. I came straight here from Marseille when Papa let me know she was ill, but we haven't been able to do anything for her."
Julien nodded despondently, knowing that his brother – one of the best surgeons in France – would have done all in his power to save his sister if he could.
"How long has she got?" he asked quietly.
"Three or four days, perhaps." whispered René. "A week at the very most. I'm sorry Julien, but there is nothing else we can do."
Julien blinked his tears back fiercely, as Combeferre squeezed his arm on the other side. Together, they approached the door to Christine's bedroom and the two students waited apprehensively while René pushed the door open silently and stepped inside.
They followed him quietly into the bright room, where they found a familiar brown-headed figure packing several medical implements back into a doctor's bag. He looked up at smiled at the three young men who entered.
"Bonjour Papa." smiled Combeferre, going to embrace him.
"You look well, Etienne." said Dr Combeferre, holding his son back to get a decent look at him. "It is good to see you again. I wish it was in happier circumstances, though."
Etienne nodded sadly and turned to look at the young girl lying in the bed. He barely recognised her.
Christine Enjolras had always been a pretty girl and her face had glowed with health and high spirits. Now her young face was gaunt and horrifically pale, and it was evident that she had lost much of her already slender figure. Her blond ringlets were clinging to her neck and forehead and her face was glistening with perspiration.
Julien swallowed hard. His beloved brother Nicolas had looked like this, a few years ago before he had succumbed to pneumonia and passed away. Seeing his sister look like this brought back painful memories and filled him with dread. The small hope inside him, that somehow there had been a mistake and Christine was going to live, died instantly.
Suddenly, her eyes flickered open and a weak smile crossed her face as she noticed the figure seated next to her bed.
"Julien!" she breathed happily. "You came!"
"Of course I came!" her brother reached out to hold her hand. "You know I'll come any time you need me, ma petite." He deliberately spoke in the future tense as he didn't want to alarm her.
"Hello Etienne!" Christine gasped in surprise, smiling shyly as she suddenly noticed the third young man in the room. She had always had a special fondness for her brother's handsome, gentle friend.
"Hello there, Christine." answered Combeferre softly, crossing to stand beside Julien. "I noticed you've got plenty birds' nest in the woods." He tried to keep the conversation on everyday things and not on her illness.
"Yes, there were dozens of chicks this year!" Christine smiled, despite the evident pain she was in. René moved to clean the sweat from her forehead with a damp flannel. "You should see the ones in the oak in the garden."
She groaned as a spasm of pain shot through her and tired to draw her knees into her stomach to ease the pain.
"Easy, sweetheart, lie still." admonished René, brushing her hair back. "I'll get you something to calm the pain." Christine nodded quietly and looked back over at Julien, squeezing his hand tightly.
"I'm so glad you came!" she smiled, her breathing heavy and laboured. "The house is so unpleasant when you're away. How long are you staying?"
"Well…for a while anyway, Christine." answered Julien evasively, suddenly realising that his sister had no idea of the severity of her illness. "I'll stay as long as I can."
Christine smiled, sinking back onto her pillows and drifting into sleep once more, comforted by the thought that her favourite brother was home again. Julien sighed despondently, gently rubbing her hand between both of his.
"Hold on Christine, please." he pleaded in a murmur. "Please hold on. It's too soon!"
Suddenly, the door swung open again and a cold disdainful voice floated across the room.
"So, you're back again, are you?"