Christine looked at him without speaking as the echo of the words died away then she sighed softly and spoke quietly though she really wanted to shout.
“Why must I go back? Could I not just...stay?”
Erik would have preferred being shouted at to the soft pleading expression in her dark brown eyes and he had to struggle to think of a good reason why she should go back.
Because you cannot simply kidnap the newest star of the Opera Populaire and expect them to do nothing, he answered himself. Not to mention the fact that Madame Giry will be seeking her lost girl very shortly and she knows exactly where to look.
“Don’t you want to sing the role of the Countess?”
He had already told Christine that was what he intended to demand of the managers and she had accepted the entire fact of his being the Opera Ghost remarkably well; no shocked gasps or outraged declarations against his activities, barely any reaction at all.
“Yes of course but...”
“But?
“What about you? When would I see you? I won’t go unless you promise that I will see you again!”
“Christine…”
“Don’t you want to see me again? We can not be good friends if we never see each other!”
“Christine…”
“Yes?”
“What will you say when they ask where you’ve been?”
“I told you I’m not going back!”
“Suppose, for a moment, that you were. What would you tell them? You could not tell them the truth, they think I’m a criminal, or a myth made up by silly girls.”
“Now there is a thought to think upon,” said Christine. “What possible excuse could I have for being away all night? I know! There’s nothing simpler, I’ll tell them I was overwhelmed by the gala and spent the night in one of the empty dormitories…if I was going back, but I’m not, at least not until we finish our discussion.”
“Do you really think you could keep from telling anyone about me…now that you know the truth?”
“Of course! I would never betray your trust again Erik! Do you believe me? I want you to be able to trust me but I’ll understand if you don’t.”
“I’m trying to take you back, Christine, I’m trusting you with my life.”
“Why so you are…I didn’t think of it that way. What if they don’t believe me? Oh good heavens what if someone saw Raoul come into my dressing room and thought…”
Christine shuddered and pulled a face at the mere thought of such a thing.
“That would be awful!”
“If he is an honourable young man he will surely deny such a rumor,” replied Erik noncommittally.
“He was a frightful bore when we were children, and he didn’t believe me when I told him I was visited by an Angel,” said Christine sulkily.
“He wasn’t entirely wrong, my dear.”
“Yes he was, he was completely wrong!”
“I’m not an Angel.”
“Not the kind I thought you were, no, but that doesn’t make him right in…in mocking me about it!” Christine’s expression grew wicked and she looked speculatively at Erik.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to tell him he was right and the angel wasn’t an angel at all but a Phantom, do you think he would believe me?” She laughed and continued without waiting for a reply. “I think he’d think I’d lost my mind! But he’s such a sweet boy he’d never say anything about it! I’ll bet he has them all in a panic looking for me, what a joke!”
“What a joke indeed…it sounds like the plot of a bad opera, ridiculous but amusing.”
“Ridiculous?” exclaimed Christine. “You don’t think I could convince him? You think I couldn’t play the part of a poor scared little girl? I’m not but I could make him think I was. I could convince him so well he’d never guess that I was really…that I really knew and liked you!”
He knew it was a terrible idea but Erik couldn’t help wondering how long the pair of them could draw out such a game, and what she was going to say before she changed her mind.
“Almost like playing a part in a performance that no one else knew they were a part of.” He remarked, finding the idea very appealing.
“Our very own opera?” exclaimed Christine. “Oh wouldn’t that be fun, and no one would ever suspect that there was something more to it and even if they did between us we can keep them from guessing our secrets!”
“Shall we play a game with the good people of the opera house then, my dear?” said Erik smiling, smirking really, at her.
“Yes let’s!” She held out her hand to him. “Lead on, Monsieur.”
Christine started off sitting on the floor of the boat while Erik poled it along the underground waterways but, very soon, complained that she was cold and wriggled under Erik’s cloak with her arm around his waist for balance.
“Erik?”
“Yes?”
“Nothing really, I just wanted to say your name. My friend Erik, I do love words don’t you? There’s something so magical about being able to express yourself with mere sounds, of course music and songs are even better for that…oh! I am rambling on aren’t I? I’m not distracting you am I?”
“Not at all, I’m just not used to talking to you without any walls between us…I rarely talk to anyone at all, it makes me feel rather clumsy.”
“I truly hadn’t noticed.” Christine reassured him enthusiastically. “You always seem so wonderfully sure of yourself to me.”
“Thank you. As you can imagine I haven’t had much contact with people.”
“Have you always lived here?”
“Since I was about twelve or thirteen, I’m not exactly sure how old I was. A long time.”
“What about before then?”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” snapped Erik, far more harshly than he intended and Christine drew away from him.
“I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.” She apologised rather stiffly then lapsed into an icy silence that told him far more expressively than any words that he had misread the intent of her question. They had nearly reached the other side of the underground waterways before she spoke again.
“I can understand why you would suspect me of invading your privacy again. You will forgive me won’t you?” She added the last words rather desperately as the thought of him not forgiving her again entered her mind. “I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t!”
“Dear sweet Christine,” murmured Erik pulling her close with one arm and halting in his poling of the boat to embrace her awkwardly with one arm. Christine smiled widely and tried to turn around to return the embrace only to lose her balance and end up flat on her back in the bottom of Erik’s boat.
“Are you hurt?” he exclaimed, dropping the pole next to her and kneeling down. Christine blinked, not quite sure how she had lost her balance, and then shook her head.
“I’m fine, I just…slipped, I think.”
Erik helped her stand up and she immediately wrapped her arms around him explaining that the fall had given her ‘quite a fright!’
“You should be more careful,” he reprimanded her gently, “The water is very deep here. If you fell out and got caught in the current you could end up in the river!”
Christine’s eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder at the still water and she nodded, the river was quite a distance from the Opera house and she (along with nearly everyone there) had no idea that the underground flooding was from the river.
Erik waited patiently for her to let go him and, when she didn’t, cleared his throat softly and pointed out that he couldn’t move the boat while she was standing there and it was getting late.
“Oh of course!” replied Christine blushing and sitting down in front of him.
The rest of the boat journey passed in silence, Erik helped Christine out of the boat at the other end then onto the horse to go back upstairs. In one of the lower cellars he told her that this was as far as he could go.
“Can you find your way back from here?”
“Yes. Meg and I used to play down here when we were younger.”
“I know, I used to watch you,” admitted Erik, not entirely meaning to reveal that fact. Fortunately Christine was delighted rather than upset, she smiled at him.
“My guardian angel…and don’t argue! You don’t have to be an actual angel to be a guardian angel you know!”
“I wouldn’t dream of disagreeing with you, my dear, but I really must be going. I’ll talk to you later, come to the chapel before the performance.”
“Of course…Erik?”
“Yes?”
“Before you go…”
“Yes?”
“Wouldn’t you like to kiss me goodbye?”
Erik stared at her in shock he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Christine stood about a meter in front of him smiling hesitantly. When he didn’t answer she blushed and looked down at her feet, feeling that she must have misjudged him because she had thought he would…well say yes! She couldn’t help feeling rejected and it showed in her posture.
“You want me to kiss you?” whispered Erik. Christine’s head shot up at the disbelief in his voice. He was looking at her with the oddest expression, half expression really but that wasn’t the point, at first she thought she was being too forward – technically they had only just met after all then she realised that he wasn’t shocked by her manners he was shocked by the fact that she wanted to kiss him!
“Of course I do,” she said, standing in front of him and lifting his chin up. “Here. I’ll make it easy for you…”
He didn’t blink, or even breathe, as she stood on tiptoe, tilted her head, and pressed her lips against his in a rough approximation of the kisses she had observed then pulled away again. As first kisses go it was quite mediocre. Fortunately for the pair of them, the second kiss was much, much, better.
When Erik rediscovered the ability to use his hands he pulled Christine closer and ran his hands through her hair while he kissed her and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck. Breathless and shyly avoiding each other’s eyes they broke apart, Erik kissed Christine’s hand then disappeared into the shadows while she set her face into a suitable expression for the part she was about to play and opened the door that led to the main part of the Opera House.
It was Madame Giry who found her, Christine made sure of that by appearing practically on top of the woman’s room and calling out to her quietly.
“Christine Daae! Where have you been?” demanded the ballet mistress. Christine turned and looked at her in confusion.
“I was just on my way to meet Raoul for supper,” she replied, “I only came to tell you before I got changed.”
Even in the middle of the day, or early morning as it was now, it was impossible to tell what the time was in the depths of the opera house.
“Me dear child,” said Madame Giry when she realised that the girl had no idea what time it was. “It’s morning…you must be freezing! Come here and put my shawl around you.”
“Thank you…is it really tomorrow? But I swear I just left my dressing room! Poor Raoul must be so worried!”
“Perhaps you fell somewhere and didn’t realise, come you should lie down.”
Madame Giry called out for Meg who walked down the hall towards her mother’s room then ran when she saw Christine.
“Christine! You’re back!” The girls hugged each other then Madame told Meg to take Christine to the dormitory.
“No wait.” She changed her mind. “Take her to one of the empty rooms so the girls don’t disturb her. I’ll go and tell the managers that you are back, and the Vicomte if I see him.”
“Thank you Madame,” said Christine with a grateful smile. Madame Giry nodded and went back to her room to finish dressing. Meg and Christine made their way through the maze of corridors to one of the empty rooms.
“Would you be a sweetheart and get me some clothes to change into?”
“Of course! Poor Christine you must be frozen after spending the night in your underthings! Here’s a spare blanket for you and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Thank goodness Mama sent the girls to practice or I’d never get back!”
Christine smiled to herself as Meg left; the blonde girl was very sweet even if she didn’t believe in Christine’s Angel of Music.
She must have dozed off under the blanket for a few minutes because the next thing she knew Meg had returned with some of her daytime clothes.
“Christine? Are you asleep?”
“No, no, Meg. I was just resting for a moment.”
“I brought your clothes with me,” said Meg, stating the obvious since she was carrying a bundle of clothing. “Christine?”
“Yes, Meg?” replied Christine as she started loosening her corset – her ribs felt bruised all over from sleeping, and walking in it – she decided it wouldn’t hurt to have it a bit looser for awhile.
“Where did you go?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well you were gone all night!”
“Oh of course! I’m sorry, Meg, I’m fearfully sleepy. The last thing I remember is that I was on my way to tell your mother that Raoul was taking me to supper.”
“How very odd. Did you fall over or something?”
“I don’t remember doing that but I suppose I must have…”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Well I couldn’t be since I don’t recall any details of last night, after Raoul left.”
“I’m not sure if I should tell you this, Christine,” said Meg anxiously. “I don’t want to distress you but I went to the dressing room last night, the door was locked from the outside but the room was empty and the mirror, Christine, the mirror isn’t a mirror at all! Well it is but it’s also a door with glass on the other side! You can see straight through it and there’s a dark passageway behind the door!”
“I had no idea about any of this,” exclaimed Christine, only half lying since some of last night was still a bit blurry. “Do you suppose someone…but no, how could I not remember someone being in my dressing room? It’s probably just another of Joseph Buquet’s peepholes. Now I’m going to go and…oh you wonderful girl, Meg, you brought food with you! I was just dreading going down to the kitchens and having everyone question me.”
“That’s what I thought!” replied Meg happily. “I have to go to practice now, will you be all right?”
“Of course but please would you tell Madame, and anyone who asks, that I need rest and don’t want to see anyone.”
“Of course you need rest, I wouldn’t dream of letting anyone disturb you,” answered Meg, straight away. “Christine, are you sure you feel well? You don’t seem quite like yourself this morning.”
Meg would notice, of course, I should have expected it since she is my closest friend after Erik. I had better reassure her very well or I might have Madame asking me more awkward questions later.
“I am fine, Meg dear, truly I am. I just need lots of rest.”
“I’ll see you later then,” said Meg, still sounding concerned but resigned to the fact that Christine couldn’t give her a better answer.
Erik watched Christine make her way up the main staircase that led through the cellars to the backstage area then made his own way to another, much less often used, staircase on the opposite side of the cellar. He would have gone straight back to his home but he had a strong feeling that Annette Giry would be looking for him as soon as her lost ballerina was returned to her so he decided to make it easy and meet her in the usual place.
Sure enough he’d just had time to settle himself on a chair when Annette Giry burst in, looking furious.
“What did you do?” she demanded angrily.
“Do?” repeated Erik causally.
“To Christine! I saw you lock the door and take the key. I saw your spying mirror!”
“The girl is completely unharmed, my dear Madame Giry…”
He only called her by her formal title when he was being stern with her.
“In fact she is quite well and I have a note for you to give to the Managers regarding her. She will be playing the role of the Countess tonight.”
“Erik…you must be careful that you do not go too far and do something that I can not help you with.”
“As long as they do what they are told no harm will come to them.”
“And what about Christine? What did you do to her to make her forget where she had been last night?”
“A simple hypnotic trick,” replied Erik straight away, giving no hint that he had no idea what she was talking about. In his mind he congratulated Christine on creating such a clever, and believable, story. “She may even remember parts of what happened eventually. Really did you think that I would hurt her? I would like to know how you knew she had a ‘great teacher’ and thank you for the acknowledgement of my skill.”
“I overheard her speaking to you in the chapel once. Of all the blasphemies, to impersonate an Angel!”
“God clearly already finds my very existence a blight upon His world,” retorted Erik carelessly. “Why should I care if I offend Him a little more?”
“As for your claim that you wouldn’t hurt her…all I can say is that I know your temper, Erik, and I know how you are when you don’t get what you want.”
“Do not believe me then,” Erik shrugged. “Just don’t interfere with me.”
“Have I ever?” she responded rhetorically, he knew that she felt responsible for his actions but also pitied him for the life he had now and the life she had rescued him from – hence her mixed response to his actions.
“Very well,” she said, when he didn’t; answer. “Where is the note? I must go and tell the Managers that Christine is no longer missing.”
Erik nodded and took the last note out of his pocket – he’d delivered the others, or had them delivered, while Christine was asleep.
“Good day, Annette.”
He heard her sigh as he left and smiled – it was so nice of her to put up with his little eccentricities.
Now to see if she will actually do as I have asked.
There was a passageway leading to a hollow space behind one of the walls of the foyer, from there he could hear all of the voices in the foyer but not see them.
Hearing them will be enough for now.
The first thing he heard as he settled himself in the dark space was the voices of the new Managers.
“Far too many notes for my taste and most of them about Christine. All we’ve heard since we came is Miss Daae’s name.”
“Miss Daae had returned.”
And there is Annette, right on time, thought Erik smugly.
“I hope no worse for wear, as far as we’re concerned?” said one of the Managers, Erik hadn’t bothered learning to tell them apart yet.
“Where, precisely, is she now?” inquired the second Manager.
“I thought it best she was alone.”
“She needed rest,” added Annette’s daughter, Meg.
“May I see her?”
Erik frowned and cursed silently when he heard the Vicomte’s voices, clearly that young man could not follow instructions.
“No, Monsieur, she will see no one,” answered Annette firmly.
“Will she sing? Will she sing?”
Ah, thought Erik, sarcastically. The ‘dulcet’ tones of Carlotta drowning out Piangi as usual.
“Here, I have a note.”
“Let me see it!” demanded three or four of them at once.
“Please,” added one of the Managers.
Erik smirked to himself as the man read out the note with a growing tone of indignation in his voice. He was half hoping that they would disobey just to give him the pleasure of making them do what he wanted.
“Christine!” exclaimed Carlotta, when the note was read.
“Whatever next!” added one of the Managers.
“It’s all a ploy to help Christine!”
“This is insane!”
“I know who sent this!” declared Carlotta. “The Vicomte, her lover!”
“Indeed? Can you believe it?”
Erik chuckled at the outraged tone in the younger man’s voice.
And this is the part where Carlotta storms off to her dressing room, guessed Erik as the diva started shrieking in Italian and the voices trailed away. If they follow Lefevre’s pattern they’ll probably bribe her into staying. What a pity… for them.
Christine went to sleep, quite unintentionally, after Meg left and was woken up very suddenly when the blonde ballerina came rushing into the almost empty room.
“Christine!”
“What? Meg? What’s wrong?”
“Carlotta is back!”
“That’s not really a surprise, is it?”
“It was all so exciting though! The Managers got a note form the Phantom!”
“The Phantom?” repeated Christine, stirring uneasily as if the name disturbed her.
“He demanded that you play the role of the Countess tonight but they refused – in fact they’re doing the opposite and casting you as Serafimo!”
Meg’s habit of talking without pause when she was excited gave Christine time to think. She decided that she had to talk to Erik as soon as she possibly could.
“Well I suppose that means I’ve had my night of glory doesn’t it?”
“Don’t you mind?” asked Meg, appearing confused by Christine’s lack of reaction.
“Oh of course I mind but what else could I expect them to do if Carlotta came back? And playing one of the main characters, even if it is a silent part, is hardly a disaster. Doesn’t Mademoiselle Delacroix normally play the part of the Serafimo? I hope she won’t be too upset.”
“Fuchsia likes you and you know how she hates being made to play the male parts anyway.”
Mademoiselle Fuchsia Delacroix’s aversion to being cast in a male role was a running joke at the theatre since it had taken three months before anyone discovered that Mademoiselle Fuchsia Delacroix was, in fact, Monsieur Dante Delacroix. There had been a bit of an uproar but the ‘lady’ was a fine actress and sang excellent alto so Lefevre had simply insisted that ‘she’ was not allowed to share the women’s rooms anymore and let ‘her’ continue to be a Mademoiselle.
“This is France, after all,” murmured Christine, finishing her thought out loud.
“I beg your pardon?” said Meg.
“Oh I was just thinking about Fuchsia and wondering if anyone would bother telling the new Managers about her.”
“Hmm, I don’t see why anyone would,” replied Meg. “Not unless she put frogs in Carlotta’s shoes again. Oh! I’m supposed to be bringing you down to rehearse…if you’re feeling well enough?”
“The thought of being onstage with Carlotta isn’t doing wonders for my health,” admitted Christine plainly. “No doubt she has it in for me after last night?”
“Just a little,” agreed Meg. “Are you feeling well enough?”
“Yes, I think so,” answered Christine. She hadn’t felt poorly anyway and she needed something to keep her going until tonight – she couldn’t wait to see what Erik had planned for Carlotta.
“Was there anything else you had to tell me?” asked Christine. She was certain that there would be because Meg was terrible at remembering messages.
“No, that was…oh wait, the Vicomte De Chagny was there as well asking about you! But he had to leave for a while. He said he would be back before the show started.”
“I’m sorry I missed him. He must have been so worried when I didn’t meet him yesterday evening.”
“While the Managers were…talking to Carlotta I heard him say to Mother that he heard a voice in your dressing room last night.”
“Well I do sing to myself sometimes.”
“A man’s voice, Christine!”
“What?” exclaimed Christine in genuine surprise – she didn’t remember Raoul coming back to her room while Erik was talking to her.
“But how could someone have been in my room without me knowing he was there? No, it must have been after I left because I certainly did not invite any man into my room! You believe me, don’t you Meg?”
“Of course I believe that you didn’t invite anyone in but what if someone tricked you or…or drugged your drink or something like that?”
“Or maybe the Opera Ghost slipped through my locked door and sang me to sleep,” countered Christine sarcastically, but not harshly. “Really, Meg, that’s as likely as anything you’ve suggested to…”
“Christine?”
“I do remember hearing a man’s voice but Raoul couldn't possibly have heard it!”
“Why ever not?”
“Because it was the Angel of Music’s voices and no one hears him but me,” stated Christine in a matter of fact tone. Meg looked troubled and didn’t speak for a minute or time.
“Christine…I don’t want to upset you…but what if the Angel isn’t an Angel but just a man playing a cruel trick on you? It’s possible, you know, and that would explain why Raoul heard it too…”
“Oh Meg!”
Christine’s eyes filled with tears, though she was actually upset about the fact she had betrayed part of her knowledge of Erik.
“Do you really think my Angel isn’t real?”
“It just seems like the only way someone else could hear him,” answered Meg miserably. “It could even have been the Phantom! Everyone says that He can appear by magic! He could have mesmerised you so that you wouldn’t remember Him taking you!”
“Meg, I’m so scared!”
Christine wrapped her arms around the other girl, an action to match the desperation in her voice, and secretly smiled to herself.
“Don’t cry, Christine, don’t cry!”
“Oh but do you really think that someone…that He kidnapped me?”
“It’s the only thing that explains Him bringing you back,” said Meg certainly. “He wrote ‘Christine Daae has returned to you and I am anxious her career should progress’ – He brought you back so it must have been him who took you! Oh Christine how horrible for you!”
“Meg I think…I think I almost remember…a voice…yes, from behind the mirror – just where you found the passageway!”
“Did you see Him? Was He real? I mean physically, obviously He was there.”
“I…”
Christine paused and squinted, as if trying to recall an image.
“No, just a voice, a powerful hypnotic voice. I don’t even remember what He said.”
“Well He brought you back so whatever you did must not have made Him angry.”
Dear, sweet, Meg. If only you knew how angry I did make him and he still brought me back!
“I suppose it’s because He wants me to sing, like the note said.”
“Perhaps,” added Meg, ever the romantic. “He tried to make you sing for Him and you wouldn’t so He decided to make you famous instead. If it had worked He would still be able to hear you sing and it would be for Him because He arranged it that way.”
“That’s certainly as likely as any reason,” agreed Christine wearily.
“You won’t worry about it too much, will you?” said Meg, who apparently felt that since Christine was safe the singer shouldn’t worry anymore.
“Of course I’m worried,” disagreed Christine. “But I’m going to be surrounded by people onstage and I’m back in the chorus girl’s dressing room now so He can’t use the same trick to lure me away. I’ll be fine; I can hardly be upset about something I barely remember now can I? Especially when I have come back unharmed.”
Ignoring Meg's dubious expression Christine stood up and walked towards the door.
“Now I believe we are late for rehearsal.”