Lisette

Chapter 14 ~ If We Don't Believe in Things, How Can They Become?

Grantaire noticed Enjolras before I did, and rose to go and speak to him and Courfeyrac, leaving me on the bench. For that I was grateful - to have to explain everything again - to relieve and re-live the entire experience would have been too much, there and then. I could see them looking over at me with concern, as Grantaire continued his explanation. Finally, Enjolras came over, and sat down next to me. 

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

I nodded, thanked Grantaire for his kindness towards me, and took the arm that Enjolras offered me.

As we walked the short way back, he stayed mostly quiet, books under his left arm, and my arm linked in his right. Eventually, as we were turning down the Rue du Gindre, almost home, he turned to me, and asked, softly: "What can I do? How can I help?"

I shook my head, looking down, and shrugged. "I don't think there's anything practical you can do. There's no real way of preventing him from finding me again, is there? Aside from me staying locked indoors all the time, or perpetually being accompanied wherever I go."

"Even so," he said, loosing my arm and unlocking the door. "I hate seeing you like this. I wish there was something..."

"The fact that you're here," I bent down, and began unlacing my boots. "Sometimes the only thing you can do for people is to be there for them." 

I dropped my petticoat and jacket bundle on the floor by the bed, and, sitting down on the bed, began untying my garters and pulling my stockings off. Enjolras sat down next to me.

"I'm no expert in these things at all, but if it would help to talk? I don't know if you've really talked to anyone about what happened that afternoon, beyond the basics that Combeferre and Joly managed to get out of you. If you think it would help, I'm happy to listen."

It was hard to begin. I sat on the bed next to him, hugging my knees to my chest, and began to talk of what had happened for the first time, of my fears, of how desperately I tried to ignore it, and yet how the memories crept up on me whenever everything was quiet and still. As the words poured forth, so did my tears, and as night drew in he held me close, stroking my hair, and seeking to comfort me. 

When I had cried all the tears it seemed possible for a person to cry, it was too late to go out and find anything to eat. We made do with some old bread and cheese, and Enjolras made certain that I got plenty to drink - "to make up for the lake I had just cried." Unlacing my stays and taking off my pockets and petticoat by the light of the dying fire, I couldn't help but notice him watching me, face full of concern. I took up my bit of comb, to try and put my hair in order before going to sleep, but before I could get very far I felt Enjolras sit down on the bed behind me, and take the broken piece of comb from my hand. 

"This was going to be a present," he said softly, "but I don't know when your birthday is, so I might as well give it to you now."

He replaced in my hand a beautifully carved ivory comb, inlaid with swirling mother of pearl flowers.

"You have so few pretty things - I thought you ought to have more."

I scarcely dared use it to comb my hair, for fear of breaking the teeth with my somewhat unruly waves, but when I moved my hand back to continue combing my hair, he took it from me, and began to undertake the task for me. It suddenly struck me that he was probably the only person in years who had seen me with my hair down. I tried to concentrate on the feeling of his fingers and the comb running through my hair, but every time I closed my eyes, I could see that man's face again. In the silence, all I could hear were echoes of his voice. Perhaps ignoring what had happened so many months ago had made this worse, now. Perhaps if I'd gone a different way - taken a different route back...