Tears in a Bottle

Chapter 4

The very next day, Christine returned to the Lechmere chateau, ready for her first lesson with Arabella.

As she headed to the music room to meet her new student, she looked around her in wonder. It was like walking through a museum. Everywhere she looked there were antique vases, statues, paintings and music boxes. If she did not already know that the owner of the house was a very wealthy man, she would have been able to easily tell. Erik Lechmere clearly liked old and expensive things and was very happy to spend his money on them. He clearly enjoyed showing off his wealth with ostentatious things.

And now he was spending his money on her. It could hardly be called spending, she thought bitterly. He had bought her. Like a painting or piece of jewellery – or a prostitute – he had offered her a price and she had accepted.

Thanks to her anger, she had just made a deal with the devil. The moment she had agreed to it, she knew it would not end well. She wanted to back out, but knew instinctively that no one crossed Erik Lechmere. And after hours of thought, no matter how she looked at it, she knew she was not going to win. It was clear that whatever Erik Lechmere wanted, Erik Lechmere got.

She looked about her, desperate for a way out of the situation her anger had got her in. First her father and then her adoptive mother Mama Valerius had warned her that her temper would get her into tricky situations of which she may not be able to get out. They had warned her numerous times that she would have to face the consequences and it would be nobody's fault but her own. This was apparently one of those situations.

So, with nowhere to go and no other option but to teach Arabella to sing, Christine set about making the best of an unexpected situation.

For a week, Christine taught Arabella the basics of singing and helped her with her homework. It had taken very little time for the pair to fall into a routine and become friends. Arabella would come home from school and Christine would be waiting. Together they would have afternoon tea at the island counter in the kitchen, sitting on matching stools and telling each other about their days. Then Christine would help Arabella with any homework she had before going upstairs to the music room to practice her singing.

After her lesson, Christine would head out the front door, forced to face the reality of earning more money at the club. Along the way, Arabella, bursting with excitement and pride, would knock at Erik's study door, hoping to share her progress with him. Every day, she would ask if she could tell him about her lesson and every day he would say something to cause Arabella to close the door, her little face downcast.

Christine felt sorry for the girl who was all but ignored by her uncle. She could see just how lonely and grieving the child was. Arabella was trying to reach out to her uncle – the only person still left in her family – and he was ignoring her. That was why Christine stayed with her until she had to leave for the club. She wanted someone to be there with her at all times.

When her father died she had needed the company. If Mama Valerius had not been there, she was not sure how she would have coped dealing with her father's death as a six year old.

If only Erik wasn't so blind that he could not see how desperately the little girl needed her uncle.

"I'd like a word!" Christine snapped the moment she pushed through the door of Erik's study and saw him sitting at his desk poring over a pile of papers.

"Of course," he responded mockingly. "I'm sure you'd like more than one."

Christine ignored that – as she did a lot of what came out of Erik's mouth.

She could not understand how he could ignore such a vibrant and intelligent child like Arabella. But in the two short weeks she had been acting as a tutor or music teacher or nanny or friend, she had learnt almost as much about Erik Lechmere as she had learnt about Arabella. No doubt he had realised at their first meeting how much she talked and how willing she was to speak her mind.

"You need to spend time with your niece! She's missing her parents and is in need of her family," Christine informed him without preamble.

"I'm sure she doesn't need me. She has you. Don't think I haven't noticed the way that you spend more time with the girl. I only hired you to teach the girl how to sing and help her with her homework, and yet you stay for hours longer and watch TV with her. She clearly doesn't need me," Erik responded with a sharpness to his voice that Christine could not understand.

Christine slammed her hands down on the desk and leant across the space to glare at him. "She does, you idiot!"

"Idiot?"

"You're the last link she has to her mother and the only family she knows. And also, if you paid any attention to her, you'd see that she's missing her parents. You can't expect her to stop mourning them in a few weeks. You're also an orphan," she stated, having read the fact in a magazine article. "Didn't you mourn your parents? Didn't you just want to lie in bed and cry until you thought your tears would somehow bring them back? You have to know how she feels."

Erik shook his head and fixed Christine with a furious look. "If you must know, Miss Daaé,I never met my father so, no, I didn't mourn him. I was glad when my mother died. I was at school when she died. I was called from my class to see the dean of students. When he told me I just shrugged and asked to go back to class as if I had been informed of nothing more important than that I was going to have to get the metro home after school. I danced down the deserted hallway back to my classroom. So, don't tell me how I should be feeling, Miss Daaé. My parents didn't care about me and I didn't care about them when they died."

Christine wanted to grab Erik by the collar of his expensive shirt and shake him. She could not understand how he could be so callous about his parents and his niece's family. She suspected there was a world of suffering and pain behind his anger but could not even begin to guess at it.

Storming out of the study, Christine doubted her words had had any affect on Erik. Closing the door without looking back, she failed to see the tormented expression that crossed Erik's face.

You're the last link she has to her mother and the only family she knows.

Sleep had evaded him all night. Erik had paced the floor all night long as Christine's words echoed through his head. Usually he would open the curtains at night so the moon could shine through and light the room with its softness. But tonight, even the moon refused to shine. It was as if he had shamed it and it could not bear to see him. Feeling caged inside his bedroom, he headed outdoors to wander the dark gardens.

Christine's words prevented him sleeping. She told him in no uncertain terms that he had been ignoring Arabella and she would not allow it any longer. He was aware that he was doing it, but with his own childhood as a poor example he did not know what to do to reach out to a child he did not know. He wanted to hold her and let her cry into his shoulder, just as he had always imagined his mother doing for him. But how could he offer comfort to a stranger?

How did someone who lived alone in the darkness for most of his life reach out to a child who had only known a happy family and brightness? Yet, how could he inflict what he had gone through as a child on Arabella? He had yearned for someone to reach out to him and change his hatred against the world into trust. If someone had been there for him, things might have been different.

Somehow, he had to save Arabella from this life he had suffered.

The next morning, Erik was down in the kitchen eating a plate of plain toast. In the darkness before the dawn, the only one awake in the house, Erik's bitterness at the world, and also Christine, seemed to be greater than usual. Normally he did not mind eating bland food – he could taste nothing and saw no point eating anything with flavour – but this morning it only added to his resentment.

He had spent hours trying to find a way to connect with Arabella, but still he had no idea what to do. He had heard stories of fathers taking their sons out to play football, and mothers going shopping with their daughters. But he was neither of those. He knew nothing about Arabella.

When she came down to have breakfast, he found himself speechless as he struggled to find something to say. The room was so tense that he had just had to get up and walk out; he couldn't bear it. If he were brave enough to face the bright light of day, he would have taken Arabella to school so he could get to know her a little better on that short journey. Instead, his hands quivering anxiously behind his back, he had let her go, missing the opportunity.

Rather than meet her after school, Erik had ensured he was on a phone call to his lawyer. He knew Christine would arrive within minutes of Arabella's return home and the pair would spend hours in each other's company. He would have a few more hours to gather his courage.

From his study, he could hear the two at the piano. In only a fortnight, Christine had brought about a change in Arabella's voice. He didn't know how to tell her that he was proud he was of her progress. For a moment, he debated whether he should go into the music room and listen to her. That would have been a perfect opportunity to tell her she was doing well. He wanted to, but was worried that if he did, he would distract her from her singing.

He waited for the end of her lesson, waiting to see if Arabella would come to see him as she usually did. The real question was what he would do if she came to see him. Listening closely, he heard Christine's and Arabella's voices getting louder as they walked along the hallway and held his breath.

"I have to go, Bella," Christine said. Erik could hear nervousness in her voice as if she was not sure what would happen when she left. "I'll see you tomorrow, poppet." Then her heels clipped down the hallway.

The door squeaked open and Arabella's blonde head ducked around the corner. "Erik? Did you hear me singing? I think I'm making good progress. Christine says I am. Do you think so, too?"

Erik drew in a shuddering breath and gripped the arms of the chair to try and still their shaking. She had given him a perfect opening. He could comment on her music. He could say how impressed he was that her singing had progressed in such a short space of time. He could say he was proud of her and the commitment she had made to her voice. If he were brave, he would have said that.

But he was not brave. Instead he glanced briefly at Arabella and gave her a vague smile. His fingers gripped the armrests so tightly the bone began to show through the skin. "I did hear you, Arabella. Now, you must go; I have work to do."

Dejected, Arabella closed the door.

Cursing himself for being a fool, Erik returned to his work. He did not know how to be an uncle. He could not save Arabella from the fate that awaited her.

"Why do you always sit here by yourself, Arabella?"

Surprised, Arabella looked up from her book. It was the first time anyone had approached her during lunch. She had been so sure that no one would find her under the tree. But as she looked up at the speaker, she felt herself begin to smile. Sofi, the smartest girl in her class, was talking to her.

"I don't have anyone to play with," Arabella confessed softly, looking down at her book in shame.

"What are you reading?" Sofi asked as she sat down beside Arabella, her back also resting against the trunk of the tree. Using her finger to mark her page, Arabella showed Sofi the cover of the book. "I love those books! My favourite was the first one? What's yours?"

For the rest of the lunch hour, Arabella and Sofi spoke animatedly about the books and their favourite characters. They walked back to class together, asked their teacher to sit together and walked to the gates where they waved goodbye – but not before exchanging phone numbers.

Christine had just changed out of the short dresses she was expected to wear when performing at the club into a more conservative outfit of an ankle length dress. Usually she and Lola, another performer at the club, would walk out to their cars together but with Lola unwell, Christine had to brave the crowds of drunken men on her own.

She stood at the door of the staff room and checked she had all her belongings before pulling out her keys. Ready to make a quick dash through the hallway to the car park, she pulled open the door and checked to see if anyone was waiting for her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no one.

"Hey! Christine, right?" a slightly slurred voice stopped her for a moment. "Can you come home and sing for me?"

Christine shuddered at the suggestion and the sight of the drunken man with bloodshot eyes. "Come back another night and listen to me here at the club," she said before increasing her pace, desperate to get home.

"I have to pay to get into the club. Why don't I just pay you the cover fee instead when you come home with me?"

"No, thank you."

The man let out a growl of annoyance and reached out to grab her arm. She tried to dance out of his grip but wasn't fast enough and found herself trapped. His hand was so large his fingers circled her entire forearm. She was wondering how she was going to escape the man – he was too big for her to push away – when the giggle of a woman who was escaping the club to get home with her partner pulled the man's attention from her. Using his distraction, Christine tugged her arm from his grip and raced to her car, trying not to hear his curses.

Breathing heavily from her run and fright, Christine locked herself in her old car. Once she felt a little more in control of herself, she headed to Mama Valerius's home. The drive to Saumur gave her enough time to calm down before her adoptive mother saw her upset. She did not want to imagine the questions she would be forced to answer if Mama Valerius saw her in this state.

She pulled up outside the small house and instantly felt herself relaxing. She had spent most of her life in this little house and no matter where she lived it always felt like home. The square house had a little dormer window in the attic that Christine had always loved and large garden that Mama Valerius enjoyed tending. The paint was peeling off the bricks but it gave the house a homely feel.

However, the moment she stepped into the house and embraced Mama Valerius, the older woman knew immediately something was wrong. So, once she handed a cup of chocolate to Christine and they were seated in the brick-walled living room, their bodies sinking into the soft cushions of the lounge, Mama Valerius began her questioning.

"I was accosted outside the staff room tonight," she admitted, knowing she was entering into a conversation that they had had numerous times over the last few years.

"Christine!" Mama Valerius gave Christine a suffering look. "You need to leave that place. You're a clever girl with a good voice. You need to get out of that place. You can do so much better than that club!"

Christine sighed. "I know that, Mama V. But I can't."

Mama Valerius shook her head. "You can, Christine!"

Agitated, Christine surged to her feet and began to pace the room, her heels clicked against the tiled floor that reminded Christine of the knitted rug Mama Valerius used to have draped over the end of her bed. "I want to leave that place. I hate it but I can't. I've lost all my savings! Have you forgotten about that fiasco with Lechmere Enterprises?" She looked around the cluttered living room and picked up a figurine of a clay horse – that looked more like a cartoon Shetland pony – she had made for Mama Valerius one day at school and then set it back down.

"Of course I haven't," Mama Valerius answered calmly. "I know you lost a lot of money. My offer to lend you money still stands. Don't be proud, Christine."

"It's not up to you to fix things. It's Erik Lechmere's responsibility. He was the one who took my money and lost it. He should pay it back. The man's a lying, manipulative thief!"

"And you work for him."

"Don't remind me. The man is a cunning devil. He's trapped me into the role of tutor for his niece with an offer he knew I couldn't refuse. He's saved himself the effort of hiring a tutor and paying back the money he stole.

"I adore Arabella. If it weren't for her, I would have left after the very first day. The man is antisocial, mocking and peculiar. I don't want to have anything to do with him!"

Mama Valerius reached out and grabbed Christine's hand as she passed, pulling her down on to the lounge beside her. "Calm down, Christine. Arabella is your main concern. All you need to do is stay out of Mr Lechmere's way and be polite whenever you're around him."

Christine rested her head on Mama Valerius's shoulder. "I don't think it'll be that easy, Mama V."