Chapter 2

The next month passed in a whirlwind of activity for me as preparations were made for the wedding. Raoul's parents must have come to some understanding, for his father no longer protested our marriage, though he was always rather short with me when we chanced to meet. The Countess, by contrast, was unfailingly kind to me and took me under her wing, so to speak, helping me to learn the social graces of which I was sadly ignorant. She persuaded Raoul to postpone the marriage for at least six months so that we may have a proper wedding. Raoul, for his part, grew ever more attentive, presenting me with gifts and flowers, taking me to the park where we walked for hours, laughing and teasing, planning our life together. Each night I fell into bed, completely exhausted, nearly asleep before my head touched the pillow. It was a time, during which, I should have been blissfully happy.

I had taken to rising before dawn each morning, cherishing those moments of solitude. I would slip on my dressing gown and sit by the fire, letting my mind wander where it would. Most often, I found it returning to the opera house and all that had taken place. I could not help but wonder what had become of my Angel. I had not dared return to the opera house since the night of the fire. I had learned, from Raoul, that the damage had been extensive. It could take years to rebuild the destroyed opera house, he had told me. Some of what I had been feeling must have been evident in my expression for Raoul hurried to assure me that he had already taken steps to ensure that the opera house was restored. He had, in fact, already acquired contractors to begin rebuilding in the spring. My relief, at hearing this was great, however, it did not ease that gnawing sense of unease that had been growing steadily within me since I had come to stay with Raoul's family.

It was during one of my morning contemplations that I first began to think that the only thing that would cure me of this odd malady was for me to go visit Madame Giry. I knew that she and Meg, along with the rest of the opera staff, had been forced to seek rooms after the fire as the ones in the opera house were now uninhabitable. It wouldn't be difficult to find them and, after all, I hadn't seen either of them since the fire. I had received a note from Madame Giry about a week after I came to stay with the De Chagny's inquiring after my well being. I had answered in kind, explaining that I was content and happy and inviting her to visit and to please bring Meg round to see me once they had settled in to their new quarters and were up to visiting. I had heard nothing further and I longed to see them both, but I knew, even then, that there was more to it. I knew that Madame Giry had been closer to the Phantom than anyone else at the opera. If anyone knew what had become of him she would. I had nearly convinced myself that my concern was only natural as he had been my tutor for so many years. Once I was able to ascertain that he was alive and well, I would be able to put it all out of my mind and move on with my new life with Raoul. Once I had decided upon this course of action, I quickly began to make plans.

Nearly two months after I arrived at the De Chagny household, I found myself in their liveried carriage, being driven to the small home that Madame Giry now shared with Meg. I had sent a note the preceding day so as not to come upon them unexpectedly. As the footman helped me down from the carriage, Meg rushed from the house and nearly bowled me over in her eagerness to embrace me. I was not prepared for the rush of emotions I felt when I saw her. Immediately, my eyes filled with tears as I realized how much I had missed them both.

"Oh, Christine, I have missed you so much!" Meg cried as she stepped back to look at me. "It has been so long since I've seen you, I hardly recognize you! Oh, do come inside so that Mama can have a look at you. You've lost weight and you hadn't any to spare in the first place!"

Meg chattered on as she led me up the front steps of the little chateau and into the foyer. I had just removed my cloak when I looked up and saw Madame Giry in the doorway leading to the small kitchen.

"Oh my Christine," was all she said as she held her arms out to me. I crossed the room and flung my arms around her, suddenly sobbing as if all the world were coming to an end. All of the pent up emotions just seemed to come pouring out in a flood as I stood there crying into her shoulder. She had been a mother to me after my father died and I hadn't realized how I had needed to see her and talk to her about all that had happened.

Madame Giry allowed me to gather my senses while she busied herself preparing lunch for Meg and me. Feeling a bit embarrassed by my outburst, I washed my face and composed myself while Madame Giry and Meg laid out our tea and sandwiches in her small drawing room. We talked of insignificant things while we ate, each of us reluctant to broach the subject that lay like a weight upon all our minds. When we had finished our lunch, I followed Madame Giry into the kitchen with the tea tray.

"My Christine, I am so happy to see you", Madame Giry said, taking the tea tray from me and setting it upon a nearby table. "There is something else you wish to speak to me about, though, isn't there?"

"Yes, Madame," I answered quietly.

"Then, come into the drawing room where we will be comfortable. Agnes will be in later to help so, please don't worry about helping clean up." I followed her back into the drawing room where Meg remained, poking at the dying remains of the fire. I settled into a large, comfortable chair near the fire and Madame sat across from me while Meg paced restlessly around the small room.

I began with the night of the fire and told everything, ending with the wedding plans and my unexplainable sense of growing apprehension. When I had finished, the room was silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the mantel. Even Meg had ceased her pacing and now perched on the small settee by the entrance.

Madame Giry rose and gazed into the fire for what seemed like an eternity before she turned back to me, her eyes boring into mine with their usual sharpness. I remembered suddenly all the times that Meg and I had gotten up to some mischief. Madame Giry had known that the best way to find out what we'd been up to was to fix me with that intent stare. She knew I could not bear it for long before I tearfully confessed all of our crimes. Madame must have sensed the direction of my thoughts for she suddenly smiled and took my hands in hers.

"My dear Christine, after all you have been through, I would not blame you if you never wanted to see the opera or any associated with it ever again. I fear that I share responsibility for all that has happened. If only I had realized earlier that Erik's obsession had grown into madness. By the time my eyes were opened to the truth, it was too late. He had spirited you away to his dungeons under the opera house. Until then I had convinced myself that love would soften his violent temper. I believed his love for you would be his salvation, you see. If anyone could save Erik from himself, it was you, Ma Cherie. But Erik had never been shown love and so he did not know how to give love. He was unable to love without letting his love be poisoned by his fear and jealousy. I was sorely afraid that he would kill you and the Vicomte both in his rage. But I, once again, underestimated him. When all is said and done he loves you too much to condemn you to a life of what would amount to imprisonment. And now you have come here to ask me if I know his whereabouts and if he is well."

"Yes, Madame. I would know that he is well. I...," I fell silent, unable to say what was in my heart, but determined to know the truth.

Madame Giry sighed and turned to the fire once again. "He is alive and well. I have seen him several times since the fire, and I assure you that, physically, he is well. He is not the same, however. The life has gone from his eyes. He refuses to hear your name spoken. He has not composed at all and only comes out of his underground home to check in on Meg and me, to make sure we have all that we need."

I can not describe the immense relief I felt upon hearing that he was alive, but to learn how he had changed quickly swept all relief away. I didn't realize that I was clutching the arms of the chair in a white knuckled grip until I felt Meg's hand close over mine.

"Christine, you must put all thought of the opera and Monsieur Erik from your mind," she implored. "Maman and I will look after him as much as we are able to. You must concentrate on the Vicomte and your future together."

"Meg is right, my dear. You can only bring more pain if you continue to dwell upon the past. It is time for you to let it go," Madame Giry said gently. "I know that it is hard to let go, but you must try. For your sake and the Vicomte's." Her gaze met mine then. "And for Erik's."

I looked away. There were so many warring emotions within me that I began to be afraid that I may be going mad. I loved Raoul, so why could I not just be relieved that Erik was well and let it go? I had no answer, and there wasn't one to be found within the dancing flames of the fireplace.

"You are right, as usual," I said with a weary sigh. "I have no wish to hurt Erik any further. But, Madame, I am unable to put him completely from my mind. I love Raoul and I want only to be a good and loving wife to him when we are married, but I fear that I will never be free from Erik. Worse, I am not certain that I want to be free! Oh, Madame, I am so confused! I thought I had put it all in the past and that I would simply make sure that he was well and that would set my mind at ease, but it has only served to confuse me more."

I saw Madame Giry and Meg exchange a glance, then Meg rose and went to the kitchen. She was soon back with a tray bearing more tea. I reflected that it seemed as if every time one was in emotional distress all that was needed to bring about clarity of thought was some hot tea. The absurdity of it hit me and I was suddenly seized with a hysterical need to laugh. I am ashamed to say I burst out in loud guffaws that eventually gave way to intermittent, tear filled chuckles and sniffs. Poor Meg looked helplessly at Madame Giry who gazed at me, concern evident in her eyes. Unfortunately, this set me off again and Meg quickly set the tea tray down and asked me if I were quite all right. Unable to answer, I simply nodded. The laughter eventually died away and I felt lighter somehow. I had not laughed like that since Meg and I were still young and running around the opera house getting into all sorts of mischief. I looked up and Meg was smiling at me uncertainly.

"I am all right," I assured them both. "I have only just realized how fortunate I am to have both of you. When Papa died, I was so afraid that I would be turned out to live in the streets. I am indebted to you for all you have done for me."

I stayed at Madame Giry's home until it had begun to grow dark outside. I had not realized how late it was getting, I was enjoying my visit so much. After my hysterical outburst, our conversation had turned to other things. Meg had filled me in on the latest gossip concerning the opera cast and staff. When I glanced at the clock on the mantel I realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh my! I'm afraid the time has quite gotten away from me." I said, dismayed. "I was having such a wonderful time I didn't even give a thought to the hour." I rose, setting my empty tea cup down on the tray.

Meg quickly moved to block my way to the door. "Christine, it is far too late for you to attempt to go back now. You will stay here tonight."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly stay. They'll be wondering what has become of me and," I started.

"No, Christine. Meg is right. You should stay here tonight. No lady should be out alone after dark. No, not even with a driver." Madame Giry raised a hand to quell my protests. "Besides, my dear, that driver is at least seventy-five by the look of him. No, you will stay here, no more argument. We shall simply send a note back with the driver and he can return for you first thing in the morning. I am certain Raoul would agree that you should stay. It is decided, then. Meg, be a dear and fetch Christine something to sleep in. We are very fortunate to have an extra guest room here, so don't worry that you are imposing. We shall be absolutely delighted to have you here for the evening. Now, I am going to inform Agnes that we shall need an extra setting at dinner for our guest." With that she turned and strode briskly through the door to the kitchen and was gone. I stood there for a moment, unsure, then decided that perhaps Meg and Madame were right. I busied myself cleaning up our empty tea cups.

After a wonderful dinner, we moved back to the drawing room and, once again, fell into an easy camaraderie. Not long after dinner, Meg and I were both suppressing yawns and Madame Giry insisted that we get to bed. Meg stood and said, "Come, Christine, I'll show you to your room." She linked her arm through mine and led me down a narrow hallway past the stairs. We came to a small room at the end of the corridor and she moved to light a small gas lantern that was hung outside the door. Inside, the flickering light shone upon a modest room, with walls a lovely pale purple color. There was a small bed in one corner and a wash stand beside the armoire. I saw that Meg had already laid out a dressing gown for me.

"Thank you, Meg," I said, kissing her and bidding her good night. When I was alone, I looked again around the room, thinking it was quite lovely and cozy. I hurriedly removed my gown and slipped on the shift Meg had left for me, then got into the small bed. Closing my eyes, I began to drift toward sleep.

I don't know how much later it was when I was awakened by the sound of voices in the kitchen. My first thought was that Madame Giry must be speaking to her housekeeper, Agnes, and I closed my eyes to go back to sleep. Then I heard his voice. My eyes flew open and I sat up. It was Erik! He was here! I grabbed the sheets and flung them back. I was scrambling out of bed, mindlessly, intending I know not what; my one thought was that I must see him. He was here, and I was going to him, regardless of the consequences, when good sense once again prevailed. I stopped, my hand on the door. Closing my eyes, I laid my forehead against the cold wood of the door and tears filled my eyes. I knew I could not go to him. Madame Giry had warned me that I would only hurt him more if I did not let him go. I knew this was true, but how I longed to see him! I pressed my ear against the door, but was unable to make out what they were saying. Silently, I crept back into my bed and pulled the sheets up to my chin, using them as armor against the pain. I lay there, looking out the darkened window for what seemed like hours, listening to the cherished sound of his beautiful voice in the other room.

I slowly became aware that the voices had ceased and I now heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Madame Giry? No, the steps were too heavy for her small frame. My heart began to pound in my chest as I watched the door intently. The footsteps stopped at my door and I waited, hardly daring to breathe. The knob began to turn and I knew an instant of panic before I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to feign sleep. I knew it was Erik and I was terribly afraid he could hear the pounding of my heart in my breast. I made myself take slow even breaths even though my pulse was racing. He walked slowly across the room to stand beside the small bed. I could hear his ragged breathing in the dark along with the whisper of his cloak as he moved through the darkness. I heard him sit down in the chair by the bed and I was once again filled with panic. I knew I couldn't keep up this facade very long. When his fingers brushed my cheek, I could no longer pretend. I opened my eyes and gazed up at him. His eyes widened in surprise, but he did not move away. Slowly I raised up on one elbow until my face was inches from his. I reached up with one free hand and caressed his masked cheek. I was beyond thinking, I could only feel and react. I pulled the mask away and touched his cold, bare skin. I heard his indrawn breath as I touched him, but still he did not move back. His breathing became shallow as I pulled his face to mine and our lips met. I would look back on this later and blush at my boldness, but in that moment, I was not thinking of what I was doing. It was as if some power beyond us both had taken hold. I felt his poor deformed lips yield beneath mine and soon we were melded into one. His arms went around me and nearly lifted me from the bed and I clung to him as if I never meant to let him go. Our kiss deepened and soon we were both breathless. I never wanted it to end. When he finally broke the kiss, I tightened my arms around him and buried my face in his thin chest. I could hear his heart beating rapidly against his ribs. We remained like that for a moment, slowly returning to reality. I finally dared to look up at his face and saw that his eyes were once again filled with tears and something else, some emotion I did not recognize.

"Erik...," I breathed his name like a prayer against his shirt. I felt him stiffen and my heart plummeted. "No.." I pulled him closer, but he grasped me by my arms and set me away from him. I could feel that he was now shaking. When I looked into his eyes now, they were filled with rage.