I am thrilled to already have had two reviews keep them coming folks! Please! Next chapter is up wooo and i had some real trouble thinking of where i wanted to go with this!
Enjoy it :D
Chapter 2
The soft clump of hooves on fresh grass flashed by in the crisp spring air as the blossoms on the nearby cherry tree caught the sudden gust of wind and twirled merrily in the sky, only to be disturbed by a second pair of hooves. One particular blossom danced in the morning sky before settling itself right on the nose of a midnight black steed who snorted at the nasal intrusion and jittered the fine carriage, with a quick snap! The two horses stopped all together in front of the huge Parisian Opera house. The coachman sprung to open the carriage door only to find it opening by itself, revealing a finely trimmed man in a navy suit, who was staring up at the familiar abode with quiet tenacity.
"Monsieur…"
"I am more than capable of opening a door on my own Jean."
"Of course Vicomte."
The coachman instantly took up his position at the head of the horses as the Vicomte made his way to the Opera Populaire's steps; he paused and turned.
"Be ready to leave in ten minutes time, I do not expect to stay for long. Shelter them in the stables."
The coachman nodded and pressed the horses onwards leaving the Vicomte to grimly admire the stunning edifice before him once again. Memories swam hauntingly before his eyes and pulling his suit jacket a little tighter round him, made his way inside.
The startling grand foyer of rich gold statues and marble greeted him, a solitary cleaner was busily polishing the stairs so much that the Vicomte could almost see his reflection. As he gracefully swanned up the stairs the cleaner upon seeing him instantly removed herself uttering a small apology which the Vicomte casually waved away. Pushing open the double doors of the auditorium the Vicomte instantly smiled at the rouge plush seats and boxes that lined the walls, he habitually glanced at one box in particular, box five, before being distracted by what was occurring onstage.
A woman dressed head to toe in black with a long, sharp cane was busy ordering the ballet girls into a formation, attempting to be heard over the general hub of noise.
"Girls…girls grande… girls!"
"You will get nowhere unless you bang that cane of yours on the ground Antoinette." Said the Vicomte from behind her with mirth.
The ballest mistress wheeled round and her aging features lit up. "Vicomte, it is a pleasure to see you again." She swiftly approached him and placed two kisses on each cheek, the Vicomte accepted the gesture without question.
"Madam Giry, will you ever refer to me by my name?"
"I am afraid the habit is not yet instilled in me Raoul." She replied with another smile.
Raoul returned it and clapped his hands together as the volume of noise increased, Madam Giry glared at a group of flowers in pointe shoes who were busy giggling at the Vicomte.
"Go on, bang that infamous cane. You know it is the only way." Insisted Raoul.
"Oh very well" Muttered Antoinette, she raised the cane and the sound echoed throughout the auditorium. The girls instantly fell silent. "Thank you." Antoinette cast a glance at the Vicomte before resuming her teachings, "Once again from the second variation if you will Monsieur Reyer."
The conductor nodded with a slight air of boredom, not bothering with a reply as the orchestra's beauty rose from the pit below. The girls set off in leaps and twirls across the stage, some of the moves almost super human feats of grace as Vicomte watched slowly taking in the majesty once again. Madam Giry turned towards him once again.
"Why the sudden visit Raoul?" She inquired, folding her arms.
"I am having a brief word with Firman and Andre about the financial state of the Opera Populaire, yet have been unsuccessful in locating them."
"They are in a meeting Vicomte." Answered Madam Giry as she began to tap out the rhythm for the girls who were beginning to struggle.
"What? I am the patron, why am I not involved in this?"
"Because this meeting does not require your services." Madam Giry now had her eyes focused on the rafters above watching a stagehand staring hungrily at the girls below, the Vicomte had a sudden flash of a body dangling from the very same rafter a good nineteen years ago.
"So he is conducting his own meetings now is he?" Asked Raoul with a bitter note in his voice.
"He has always had meeting with the managers."
"One would hardly call them meetings when one does not even show their face." Bit back the Vicomte harshly.
"On the contrary, he does show his face. It is only when the need be that he remains in the shadows."
"Remarkable, the man has some courage after all."
"Have you learned nothing over the years Vicomte?" Asked Antoinette with a touch a frost. Raoul stared into her jade eyes for a moment before pulling away.
"Inform the managers I stopped by and will return tomorrow for a meeting of my own."
"All the managers?" Madam Giry took a step forward in a challenging nature.
"If the third wishes to be present this time then so be it all the managers." Spat back Raoul and with an abrupt turn he set off down the aisle and through the doors.
Antoinette turned back to the dancers who had finished and had been watching the conversation with keen ears. "Again." Antoinette yelled, "And if it does not improve soon, you shall be rehearsing tonight with my daughter as well." The girls sighed collectively moaning about sore ankles and bruised bones but leapt once more into the routine, only one girl refused to move at all. She was sitting on the stage and holding her ankle, trying to hide the pain etched on her face, Madam Giry gently approached the girl and knelt down beside her, a feat which caused her some pain herself.
"Rosaline, my child what is the matter?"
The girl shook her head and tried to stand only to fall the floor if not for Antoinette's helping hand. She pushed some of her chocolate hair out of her eyes. "I hate pointe shoes, I keep falling." To prove her point Rosaline slipped again and quickly steadied herself, "Ah, my ankle."
"What have you done?"
"I think it is twisted." Admitted Rosaline as this time she used Antoinette's weight as a support, he ankle a little out of place.
"I believe you are right my dear. You are off dance for the rest of the week, until it heals." Madam Giry helped the girl into a nearby chair before summoning over two of the other girls. "Please assist Rosaline in walking to your dormitory, I shall attend to it soon." The two nodded happy to be relieved from the rigorous training and eagerly supported the young ballerina.
The girls swiftly made their way through the winding Opera House and to a wooden door, they carefully helped to lie Rosaline in the bed nearest the small circular window.
"Have you twisted it Rose?" Asked one of the girls, Rosaline nodded.
"Yes it is rather painful. Can I be cheeky and ask for a cold compress?"
"Not at all, it happens to all of us." Answered the other girls as she turned to walk out of the room.
"Yes rather now than on-stage like Bella did." Called the other girl teasingly. There was an indignant cry from down the hall which made the other two laugh together, Rosaline's a bell-like quality.
"I am so envious of your laugh." Said the other ballerina, returning with the compress. "It is so melodious."
"Well I am jealous of your eyes Bella, they are such a beautiful shade of brown." Answered Rosaline taking the compress and pressing it on her ankle with a hiss of pain.
"We should return or Madam Giry will shout at us." Said Bella as she turned to leave.
"Or stamp that dreadful cane again." Whined the other, Rosaline waved them goodbye and took the compress from her ankle only to quickly put is back there when Madam Giry's frame filled the doorway.
"Good the girls got you a compress, that will keep the swelling down."
"How long before I can dance again, at least two weeks yes?" Asked the girl, a little bit of hope in her voice.
Antoinette laughed, "Only a few days ma cherie, now come on you enjoy dancing."
"I enjoy normal ballet, pointe shoes are so painful."
"You have only had a weeks' practise in them, of course they will hurt. Do you expect to be perfect at once?"
"Yes." Answered the girl at once. Madam Giry could not resist laughing.
"If only the world worked that way." She rose to leave but was stopped by a call.
"Madam, did my father see me?"
Antoinette turned back and smiled at the innocent rose, one hand still clutching her ankle and her mother's hair falling across her eyes, straight and sleek. "No, he did not."
"Thank goodness, then he did not see me make a fool of myself."
"Child, you should shine, show him what you are capable of."
"Why isn't normal ballet good enough for a singer?"
"It is your mother's wish you are trained in pointe work before you begin to take on arias and the like. She believes it the added posture and core strength will aid your voice."
"Alright." Rosaline gave up and flopped back onto the pillows with a small frown. "Can I return home tonight?"
"I am sure it can be arranged." Madam Giry smiled as she made her way out of the door, "Try and rest my dear sweet Rose."
The door closed and Rosaline waited till she could no longer hear footsteps, counted to ten, pushed the useless compress off her ankle and jumped out of bed and through the door as quiet as a mouse. Hiding in the shadows she quietly made her way through the busy opera house, avoiding all the "flowers" she saw till she ended up in the library. Rosaline moved straight to where the opera's were kept and began perusing them.
"It must be here somewhere." She muttered as she flicked past Don Giovanni and Madam Butterfly. She continued looking so much so that she was unaware of the light footsteps behind her.
"Rose? Mother said you have injured yourself."
Rosaline spun round, a copy of Carmen in her arms. Opposite her was a lithe ballerina in her early thirties with long golden locks and a heart shaped face.
"Meg, i…"
"Rose, did you fake an injury?"
The girl nodded solemnly, she had never been able to lie to her mother's friend.
"I would understand it to get out of dancing, but why on earth are you in the library for?' She wrinkled her nose in distaste, Meg did not frequent the library, Rosaline thought this to be the first time she had ever seen her in there.
"I needed a score."
"A score? What score? Do you want to practise it at night?"
Rose opened her mouth to answer truthfully then changed her story slightly, "Yes, I wish to learn an aria from it."
"Alright, but you could have simply asked me."
"Not for this score."
"Why which opera is it?"
"You would not happen to know where the score for Hannibal is by any chance?" Rose regretted asking straight away as Meg's face turned to stone.
"You are forbidden from singing anything from that opera."
"I know I am, but this is important."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know what song it was that made my mother's career."
"You mother is the one who has forbidden the staff to let you have it. It has been filed away in a secret place along with the other secret operas."
"And where is that?"
"The manager's office." Meg slapped a hand over her mouth the minute the words came tumbling from her mouth. Rosaline smirked in delight and placed Carmen back on the shelf, Meg was never one to entrust with a secret.
"Oh goodness, please do not tell them it was I who told you."
"I will not Meg, you are a good friend to me as well as my mother."
Rosaline began to leave but was stopped by Meg's voice. "I may as well as give you the key since you are going to go there straight away." She pulled it from round her neck and handed it to Rose.
"How long have u been hiding that?"
"A little over two months now." Admitted the ballerina, "And I will warn you because I like you that Firman and Andre and in a meeting right now so you had better try and get it after six."
Rose could not help giving Meg a hug, she was a gossip but a good-natured one. Rosaline pretended to limp down the hallway in over exaggerated movements that cause the older ballerina to laugh.
"Oh and Rose." She called, Rosaline stopped once more, "Please do not try and tempt him with music."
"I have no intention of luring him to me." Answered Rose blankly, "But if he comes anyway I will not resist his pull."
And with that final statement and a small curtsey, Rose set off back down the hallway.
Once back in her dormitory Rose lay down on her bed and pulled a shoe box from underneath a small loose floorboard and opened it, digging round for papers. She took out a couple of sheets of music and arranged them on her bed, her hand also found an old pure red rose with a black ribbon tied round it. She stroked a petal lovingly and set it down beside her with a faint gleam in her eyes before taking a pen and some ink and writing in big letters,
THE STORY OF LITTLE LOTTE
Rosaline whiled away a few hours till six by writing out her mother's childhood story she had been told many times.
"Father still calls her Little Lotte." She mused fondly as she wrote another line, before picking it up and trying to sing it.
"Little Lotte, let her mind wander,
Little Lotte am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins or shoes…"
She could not resist a little chuckle to herself as the pen busily scraped away, just before six she lay the pen down. "Finally finished," She murmured, "Little Lotte with a little part of Angel of Music." Noticing the time she quickly hid all the items back in the shoe box, and placed it in the little floorboard below. "Now to work out what comes before."
The hallways were aglow from the single candle which cast ominous shadows on the walls, it was silent with everyone at supper. Rosaline was completely alone. She tip toed along and saw the Manager's office door left slightly ajar. She sighed in relief that the door was not locked, opened the door and dropped her candle in shock plunging the room into darkness. She scrambled round till her hand found the candle and relit it, her heart in her throat. The shadow inside had frightened her half to death, only one thought raced through her mind, if he was here Rosaline's instinct was to turn and run down the hallways as quick as lightning but the determined, tired side who has been scheming this injury for a week would not allow her to give up and with a deep breath she walked into the room.
Rose wasted no time in taking the key from around her neck and fitting it into the desk drawer, open it only to find a stack of financial records. She cursed with a sigh before trying the wardrobe. Nothing, becoming paranoid with the amount of time she had been in the room for Rose began to panic, she wheeled about and took notice of a small hole in the wall just behind the chair. She would not have noticed if it weren't for the plant just below it, as she approached she realised it was just big enough for a key. Rosaline eagerly put the key in the hole, turned it and with a click a small compartment opened very much like as safe does. Inside was a black leather folder with thick gold letters, Rose nearly dropped the candle again as she seized the score, locked the secret compartment again and raced out of the door making sure to close it behind her.
Fearing the demons snapping at her heels she did not stop running till she was safely back in bed holding the precious item in her hands as she ran her fingers over the score.
DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT
Rose opened it and did not stop reading even when the other girls all entered by hiding it in an even bigger score, while all the others slept Rosaline read like a woman possessed. The sheer brilliance of the complicated score was astounding with notes and rhythms she could not comprehend. The man was a pure genius, already knew this. This man was surely the god of music himself blessing her with his greatest treasure. Only when the whole score was read and processing in her mind did Rosaline finally let sleep enfold her in his loving embrace.
She woke the next morning with the sunlight streaming in through the small window, all the others girls had left for morning practise not bothering to wake Rose as she was strictly off dance. Only Bella remained clutching a letter in her hand, her face as white as a sheet.
"This was on your bedside table." She whispered. Rosaline has never seen the girl look so pale and frightened before, as soon as Rose had took the letter Bella ran from the room before a word could be said. Rosaline turned the letter open and her own blood chilled as her eyes raked the blood red skull seal. With trembling fingers she broke that terrifying seal and removed a sheet of paper, she was so wracked with fear she could barely read the simple sentence.
It is not nice to steal from others my petite Rose.
O.G
Well we have met our main character and well done to those who caught on to who our woman from Chapter 1 was, i think it is clearer now. ;) What do you think guys? Please please PLEASE keep reviewing! :) xxx