Gustave was with their nanny for the evening, keeping the young woman entertained with his chatter about whimsy and music. The young woman had been caring for Gustave since he was six, and didn't seem bothered by the young boy's overactive imagination and panache for creation. Unlike Raoul's intolerance, both Christine and Maria loved to listen to Gustave.
Tonight the ship offered a dance for the adult patrons on the voyage. Though Christine would have much rather stayed in her cabin, she allowed Raoul's pleas to dance sway her into attending. She had to bend to Raoul's desires occasionally, even when she knew they'd end with him sitting at the bar drinking himself into oblivion.
Not matter what she said or did, Raoul still found himself finishing off drink after drink. The past ten years had not been kind to him. Where she had grown from immature young woman into a motherly and determined woman, he changed from handsome young man into a drunken ogre. But he was her husband one way or the other.
"You look beautiful tonight." Raoul stated, taking her hand for the first dance. "You look as beautiful as you did that first night that I danced with you."
"That was an awful long time ago." Christine replied, putting on the bravest face that she could. She had pushed away the thoughts of that gala for so many years. She had been so naïve then. So young and so foolishly innocent.
"The night that we had meant to announce our engagement." Raoul smiled at his still young and vibrant wife, "You were so afraid of what… he would say about it."
"Let's not talk of him. Let the ghosts of the past stay in the past."
"He was a monster."
"I won't speak ill of the dead." Christine looked away from Raoul's face.
"I am sorry." Raoul broke away from her, leaving her standing on the dance floor. He strode across the hall, stopping at the bar. He laid a coin down on the counter, rubbing his hands together as the mug was filled before him.
"Raoul," Christine started as she walked up behind him. "Why must you drink so much?"
"It makes me happy."
"I do not make you happy?" Christine asked, cautious of any one around them hearing her.
"Not for a long time." Raoul replied, seemingly uncaring if the world heard their conversation. "You are not that girl any longer."
"You are not that handsome young boy anymore either." Christine frowned, "Raoul, please… be him again and I can be her again. In love… Happy."
"Happy." Raoul laughed. "What's that?"
"Oh." Christine bit her lip, turning away. It was hopeless. "I'm going back to the room."
"No." Raoul grabbed Christine by the wrist. "Stay here."
"Let go of me Raoul." Christine replied firmly, shaking his hand off of her. "I won't have you acting like this in public."
"Go back to the room then." Raoul snapped. "I'll see you when I get there."
"No." Christine paused, "I'm going to make a bed in Gustave's room."
"That damned boy!" Raoul slammed his mug down at the bar, the well-dressed bar tender eyed them.
"He's your son." Christine retorted, stepping back incase Raoul lashed out again. "It's only for tonight."
"I will not have us sharing separate beds on this ship."
"You hardly make it to bed every evening. You and your lover," Christine gestured to the mug. "Are too busy at night to come to bed."
Raoul didn't speak.
"I'm going to our room. I'm tired. Good night." Christine said with a little bit a bristle in her voice. She placed a chaste kiss to his cheek and retired from the dance hall. She knew she wouldn't see him until he crawled into the bedroom in the early hours of the morning, with just enough time to wash off and change his clothes.
Breakfast would never be any better than dinner. He was always bitter and hostile. One word and he would attack. Where had their vows gone? On her part she carried on being his wife, loving and caring for him as much as she could. But she never seemed to have the care returned to her by Raoul. In ten years she had seen a man deteriorate.
She did love Raoul. Not nearly as much as a wife should, but she did. She loved her memories of him in the beginning of their marriage. Before he started to lose himself to the bottle.
Everything would be different now. She would refill their bank account with her performances for Roger's and Hammerstein and it would fix everything. Perhaps they'd get a little apartment in New York and she could start a new career. Perhaps the rumors from ten years ago would be lost in a new country. She would be the famous French soprano and not the soprano with her name tied to the Phantom of the Opera Populaire.
New York would bring her something new. She could feel it in her bones. Something exciting was going to happen there. Everything was going to change and she just knew it was going to be for the best. She just knew it.