A/N - Hello everyone. I'm sorry I kind of abandoned this and all my writing in general. It's been a busy and emotional couple of months. But I intend to finish this and my Shakespeare story. Now, onto it.
Fantine awoke the following Monday to the distant sound of a rooster and the smell of cooking porridge. She dressed hurriedly and tended to her long, flowing hair before heading downstairs. To her surprise, the room was nearly full of people, as it had been the night of her arrival.
That weekend, she decided to explore the town and observe its inhabitants. She spent a good deal of time sitting in the park observing the local villagers and how they interacted with one another. She watched small children run around with their dogs or playthings. Watching their carefree games made her think of her own Cosette. She imagined her daughter running after the Thenardier children and laughing in her innocent joy.
She watched multiple couples courting one another, some with nosy chaperones trailing closely behind. She frowned as she wondered why she had been so unlucky to have been born an orphan without a single person to attend to her or even to protect her. Perhaps if she had had such a guardian, she could have avoided the whole affair she had gotten herself into. The fact remained, however, that she was not born into nor entitled to that privilege as so many other young women were.
She greeted the innkeeper, who handed her a bowl and offered her a smile. She smiled back, and tried to find a seat. When she did, she scarfed down her meal and brought the bowl back to him.
"Most people aren't that eager to arrive at work so early," he commented, throwing a glance around the room.
She grinned at him, throwing her coat over her shoulders. "Well, I am not most people."
They bid one another goodbye, and she started off down the road to the factory. The sun had just risen overhead, and a stream of warm light shone down on the village. The crunch of gravel echoed through the air as everyone hurried down the street to his or her respective places of employment. Fantine reached the factory after some time and passed by a line of workers assembled to receive their instructions for the day. She averted her eyes as some of the men looked her over as she walked by. She found Madame Pascal who took Fantine to her office on the second floor of the factory. Fantine took a seat and looked around the room until Madame's voice caught her attention.
"Firstly, Mademoiselle, I would like to start by telling you how lucky you are to be employed in our factory."
"Yes, Madame," she nodded obediently.
"Monsieur le Mare was actually considering laying off a decent amount of workers and docking many other's wages until he was convinced to do otherwise." Fantine looked at the woman in disbelief for a second. Was she talking about the same man who had been so kind and hospitable to her the other day? Surely not. "Now, then. You will be working in the women's section of the factory, naturally, where the women cut and mold clay to make bricks, pottery, and so forth." She paused for a minute, looking Fantine over. "We cannot have our factory become reputable for having low-life and immoral workers employed here. I'm sure Monsieur Madeline spoke to you about such things already, but just to reinforce the fact, we have rules. Such rules include no fraternizing with the men, no drinking on the property or coming to work with the affects of drinking, and no speaking of crude or inappropriate matters. You must also inform the staff in the event of illness, marriage, or pregnancy. If a pregnancy is out of wedlock, the result will be immediate dismissal." She leaned closer to Fantine. "We do not tolerate such behavior, and we are not fond of having secrets kept from us."
Fantine remained as calm as was humanly possible in such a situation. The woman couldn't be onto her, could she? No, of course not. It was simply a standard speech given to all the new girls in order to frighten them out of their wits, and it was working, for Fantine grew more nervous every time a new word escaped Madame's lips. She nodded her head and smiled slightly. "I understand, Madame."
Madame leaned back and surveyed her one last time. "Good. As for the matter of your salary, you will be paid weekly, on Saturdays. Five francs a week is the standard pay." She stood from her chair. "Now, if you will follow me, we will set up a workstation for you downstairs."
Fantine breathed a sigh of relief and followed the woman all the way downstairs. Madame Pascal seated her between two girls who were already well into their work. Madame gave her some materials and promptly went back towards her office. Fantine opened her mouth to ask what she was supposed to do, but Madame was out of earshot before she could get to it.
Fantine looked between the two girls. One was lean with blond hair tied back with a scarf. The other looked somewhat older; her tired dark hair and features were either a sign of age or overwork. Fantine looked down at her station and then noticed the blond smiling at her.
"You must be new."
"How could you tell?"
"Obviously, you have no clue what to do." She wiped her hand with a cloth and offered it to Fantine. "I'm Emilija."
Fantine took it, smiling. "Fantine." She paused, looking down again. "I don't suppose you could..."
"Of course!" Emilija motioned for Fantine to come sit on the bench at her station, which she did. She handed Fantine a handful of clay. "We make bricks," she explained. "One of the less exciting jobs, but also one of the easiest. You need to mold the clay to form a good sized brick, like this," she said, producing one she had finished. "When the three of us have enough bricks, we load them into the kiln over there." She pointed to a large stove off to the side. "You also need to be careful there are no cracks or air bubbles in the clay before you heat them. Otherwise the bricks will fall apart and be a waste of clay."
Fantine nodded and looked to the other woman, who was deeply engrossed in her work. "And she?" she whispered.
"Her name's Charlene..."
"I can hear everything you're saying," Charlene murmured. "Just because I don't respond doesn't mean I'm deaf, you know."
"I was only telling her your name," Emilija responded sheepishly.
Charlene looked up and threw a glance at Fantine. "Don't expect me to be great friends with you, girl. I work for one reason, and that's to earn money. I don't need to socialize with girls half my age."
Fantine's eyebrows were knotted with pain and confusion for a moment, but she shrugged it off. "I understand. I won't trouble you a bit." She took to the clay and started to mold it as Emilija had instructed her.
A short time later, Charlene pulled a batch out of the kiln. She let out an aggravated grunt, making Emilija look up from her place.
"What is it?"
"A whole bunch of these are ruined. Completely unusable." She looked over at Fantine, who averted her eyes. Emilija looked over at Fantine.
"It's an honest mistake..."
"Well, you and I have never made mistakes, so it must be her fault!"
"Are you saying you never made one bad brick in your whole life?"
Charlene exhaled heavily. "You teach her to do better than that. I will not be penalized for your mistakes," she spat at Fantine.
At the end of the day, Fantine practically stormed out of the factory and back to the inn. She sat down and the innkeeper brought her a mug.
"I told you that not many were eager to go to work."
"I know that now," she said disinterestedly, taking a long sip from the cup.
"Let me get your supper," he said, getting up from the table. She ran her finger over the mug as someone took a seat at the table. She looked up and saw Monsieur Madeline sitting across from her. She straightened up.
"Monsieur le Maire..."
"I'm sorry. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"
"No, no of course not. Can I help you with anything, Monsieur?" The innkeeper came back with Fantine's dinner.
"Ah, I'd love some of your soup, Michael. That is, if Mademoiselle Fantine doesn't mind my company."
Michael smiled. "Of course, Monsieur le Maire, I'll be right back." He was gone a moment before returning with a bowl for the mayor. He left, and Fantine offered him a smile.
"So, tell me, what did you think of the factory?"
"Oh, well, I thought it was very nice, Monsieur..."
"And the other women?"
She paused, biting her lip. "Well, I can't say that all of them are ... nice."
"Well, some people aren't. I wouldn't let them get you down. I'm sure you'll fit in nicely."
"It isn't a matter of fitting in, Monsieur. I can work without having to speak or interact with anyone. But I can't work if I can't do the job properly."
"Well," he said, setting his spoon down, "every job has acquired skills one must learn, and skills that one already has that they need to employ into that job. Mademoiselle, you have the heart and the dedication, but you cannot be the world's greater brick maker after only one afternoon. Rome was not built in a day, you know."
She nodded her head. "Thank you, Monsieur. I just don't want to get fired over something trivial."
"I'll have you know that all finalizations on employee terminations must go through me. Never fear. I always make sure I know the whole story before dismissing a worker."
She smiled. "That's good to know, Monsieur."
They ate the rest of their meal in silence, and he excused himself to take care of further business. After he left, she sat contemplating the table top. Why was he being so kind to her? Surely he was on his way now to enjoy another bowl of soup with some other employee. Wasn't he? She had never had a man pay so much attention to her, except for Felix. She suddenly shuddered at the thought. She never wanted to trust a man like Felix ever again, nor did she want to slip into any man's trap.
She rubbed her eyes exhaustedly and retired to her room. She sat at the window for a moment and watched the streetlights get lit. She laid down and slowly closed her eyes, letting all of her bad experiences disappear just for that moment.