Chapter Twenty Six

The Beginning

Months went by.

For a while, she often visited the fortune teller's shop, but Margaux never returned. She'd never really thought she would, but she could always hope.

She didn't dream of Jehan again – either visiting him, or even dreaming of him. After a while, she began to find it hard to imagine his face sometimes, and on days like that she didn't feel like doing much apart from sitting there and wallowing.

But she knew that wouldn't do her any good, so she threw herself into her university work. She remembered Jehan's words to her, about her wanting her degree and so on, and that gave her the motivation to study even harder.

Clementine was given the option of completing her degree in France. She decided to take the offer. She found that France suited her, and she managed to find a house to rent with Noémi and Élodie. She wasn't too sorry that Pauline and Sophie went to live elsewhere, but she still considered them to be friends.

She decided to stay in France over the summer, save one week she went back to England to see her family. Noémi and Élodie had gone back to their respective homes for the summer, so she lived in the house by herself. It was lonely at times, and there were occasions when it gave her too much time to think, but she was managing to get by.

She used the time to indulge herself in seeing tourist attractions she'd not taken the time to see when she was studying. It became a pleasant past time, and was almost a suitable distraction from the fact she was never going to see Jehan again.

That was something she had managed to come to terms with. As much as she wanted to see him, she knew deep down that it wasn't going to happen, no matter how much she wished for it.

But there were nights when all she could think about was kissing him and hugging him and their funny little conversations, and then all she could think about was that book and his poems, the words still etched firmly into her brain, and then she thought about the sounds of gunfire and the brightness lighting up the sky and searing pain in her shin…

She wondered how he was getting by. Had he missed her? He was dead by now, of course, but…She couldn't help but wonder if he thought about her again. He must have done, she told herself, because he loved her too. But the niggling little voice at the back of her head tried telling her he had probably forgotten about her.

On one of her walks around town, she found a rather familiar looking café. It was still called the Musain, to her sad amusement, even though it now looked brand spanking new and shiny and clean. She stared at it for a while, turning in a small circle to look around. She could still see the barricade if she squinted hard enough and remember how the cobbles felt beneath her back as she lay there bleeding. She could almost see Jehan as well, running towards her, asking her to leave.

Putting all that aside, she opened the door to the café and went inside.

She ordered herself a coffee and a pastry, and sat by the window, watching the world go by. No matter how hard her imagination tried, none of the faces that walked past were Jehan or his friends.

But then – then she saw someone. A man. He looked just like Jehan, but his hair was a little shorter around the sides, curlier on top. He wore a tight-fitting green T-shirt, grey skinny jeans, and scuffed, dirty, white Converse shoes. There were bracelets around his wrists and a backpack on his shoulders.

He was walking up to the café, she realised, and she leaned over the table to watch his progress as closely as she could.

Then he was inside the café, strolling through the tables to the counter. He ordered, and then turned to face the room, leaning against the counter as he waited for his order to be prepared.

He caught her eye. She couldn't help but stare. He was the spitting image of Jehan.

He smiled at her, a slow, lazy kind of smile. It wasn't Jehan's smile at all, but somehow, it was still almost familiar.

He turned around again to accept his order of a hot drink, and then he was weaving through the tables towards her. He dropped down into the chair opposite her without asking.

"Bonjour," he said. "My name is Alex. You?"

"Clementine," she said, slowly. "It's generally considered polite to ask a stranger if you can sit with them before sitting down."

"We don't have to be strangers," Alex said, sipping at his drink. "Your accent is funny. Where are you from?"

"England, and what kind of chat up line is that?"

He snorted. "One I hoped would work. Did it?"

She sniffed. "Buy me a chocolate brownie and we'll see," she said, secretly pleased to be able to talk to him.

He did buy her a brownie, and then they talked. She found out he was at university, too, studying Fine Art, and that he was born and raised in Paris. It turned out he could speak a little English, but not much. He was delighted to hear that she was studying Classics.

"I almost studied it myself," he explained. "But I'm more an art person. I taught myself Latin, though, and I took classes in Greek when I was a teenager. See –"

He rooted in his rucksack and pulled out a book. She started. It was Jehan's book – it looked just as battered as she remembered it.

She looked up at him. "That's very old," she said.

"Yeah, it's my grandfather's," Alex said, running a reverent hand over its surface. "Well, kind of. It's been in the family for over a century. My great-great – you know, lots of greats – grandfather owned it originally. He was a poet." He pushed the book towards her. "It's Aeschylus' plays. It's what got me into it. We've always kept the book in the family but no one's ever tried reading it until I got my hands on it. I always carry it around. It's like a lucky mascot, I suppose."

She touched it, smoothing her hands over the surface. "Was he happy, your grandfather?" she asked. "The one who owned it first?"

Alex looked a little surprised, but he nodded. "Yeah, I think he was. Jean Prouvaire, his name was. His family wasn't from Paris but when he married he stayed here."

"What was his wife's name?" Clementine knew she sounded odd, but she couldn't help but ask.

"Hélène," Alex said. Clementine remembered curly hair, kindness and soft discussion of survivor's guilt, and smiled.

"Good," she whispered.

Alex raised his eyebrows. "You know, it's funny," he said. "Your name is Clementine, yes?"

She nodded. He took the book off her, and flicked to the back of it. "Jean Prouvaire wrote in this all the time," Alex said. "Poems and notes and everything else you can think of. And then, there's this…"

He pointed to a note scrawled on the very last plain page. It had never been there before, so it must have been written after the last dream.

To my dearest Clementine,

I'm assuming it did not work, whatever it was you tried to do. I am sorry for that. I do love you, and I think I always will; but I also believe that we were not meant to last forever.

But I will not let the sadness I feel for our parting colour what short time we did have together. I enjoyed everything about our time together and I will always, always, always remember it fondly. You were a good thing in my life, Clementine. One of the best things, and I will never forget you.

Everything we went through together was so you could be happy, and so I could be happy. I will love you forever for giving me a second chance to live. Live your life for me and live it well. Enjoy yourself. Become a teacher as you want to be. Be happy. Love him.

I love you, Clementine. Do not forget me.

With all my heart,

Jehan Prouvaire

She felt tears in her eyes, and dashed them away with her fingertips. "That's…that's so…"

"We don't know who she is," Alex said. "And we don't know what they went through together." He studied her closely. "It's a sweet letter," he murmured, and then, in a louder voice, he asked, "Would you like to get a drink with me sometime?"

She stared at the open book beneath her hands and then looked up into his face.

Be happy. Love him.

"I'd love to," she said, and closed the book.

A/N: Well, it's done. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and enjoyed this story, and to everyone who left a review!

I'm probably going to do an alternative ending to this at some point. It will be posted as a separate story if I do. I'm not sure when it'll be done because I need to work out the details first. Look out for it though if you're interested :)

Thanks again!