I DO NOT OWN THE SONG IN THIS CHAPTER. IT IS FROM OZZY OSBORNE'S LATEST ALBUM BLACK RAIN. THE SONG'S CALLED LAY YOUR WORLD ON ME. READ AND REVIEW. SORRY IT MOVES SO QUICKLY. AU REVOIR. AND THE WEDDING PLANS ARE QUITE DULL SO..FORGIVE ME, PLEASE.
Kiera
A week has passed since Nadir's death; we wanted to take his body back to Persia to bury him beside Reza and Rookheya, but the police would not permit it. Instead, we were forced to lay him to rest in a local cemetery. On his grave we placed peace lillies...a sign of our forgiveness. Madam Mardon didn't want us to put anything besides his name on the gravestone; however, the daroga was our friend for quite a while. Carved into the stone, by Erik himself, is Nadir Khan Beloved Father, Husband, and Friend.
"I'll miss him, despite everything that happened." I sigh heavily, gazing over his grave after the funeral. "The poor man had been through a great deal of loss during his time here."
"Indeed, but he's better off now. We should go, cherie; it's getting late." Erik kisses my hand and pulls me towards the carriage waiting for us with Madam and Anna inside it. With one last glance at Nadir's grave, I get in and keep my eyes lowered as we make our way back to the inn.
Once we return and have settled, Madam and I serve tea as Anna teaches Erik a new game she learned. "I tire of all this sorrow. Let's switch to a happier topic." When we all give her a questioning stare, she says, "The wedding. You haven't planned anything, have you?"
"No, Madam."
"Well, then, let's decide right now. Sit down, and we'll start."
"Fine...but let's be quick about it. I hardly think it's a appropriate to plan a wedding when we should be mourning." I sigh.
"Then we'll just get the basic things taken care of: size, wardrobe, place, date. We'll plan a bit more later on." Seeing that Erik and I are seated next to one another and Anna has relocated from the floor to the footstool, she begins, "What size?"
"Small," Erik and I chime together.
"Two guests...you and Anna." Erik looks to me for approval.
"Yes, and the priest shall keep our marriage from the papers but binding and legal," I add.
"Wardrobe?"
"I think Kiera should wear a long, beautiful, white gown with a veil," Anna interjects.
"Anna, let's keep it simple. The midnight blue evening gown that Madam gave to me will do."
"I will wear my normal suit."
"Rings?"
"I will make them. I've got something special I want engraved in Kiera's," Erik is quick to say.
"Very good. How about location? There is a nice, small church just outside Paris near the place where we picnic that seems suitable. I know the priest; I'm sure he'd agree to your terms and be more than happy to marry you."
A knock at the door distracts us. "I'll answer it." I wriggle out of Erik's arms and open the door to a young mail carrier. "Can I help you, Monsieur?"
"I'm looking for a Kiera Torque; I'd heard she stayed here."
"I am Kiera Torque."
"This is for you, Mademoiselle." He hands a large envelope to me and leaves without a word.
I read the writing on it: To Kiera Torque From Madam Ariana Bardoix. "Madam Bardoix!" I gasp. Opening the envelope, I find several documents that, after some investigation, I find to be her will. "Oh, dear God!" I exclaim.
"Kiera!" Erik rushes up to me. "Cherie, are you all right? What is that?"
"It's Madam Bardoix's will."
"Madam Bardoix? The elderly woman who took you in when your father tried to kill you?" Erik takes the papers and looks over them. "She's willed her home and everything in it to you." He narrows his eyes as though there is something that he cannot believe. "And/or husband..."
"Well, once we are married, it will be our house, but she has two sons who are married and probably have children. Why wouldn't she leave the house to them?"
"Here's a letter from her." He hands me a letter written in Madam's script.
"My dearest Kiera,
I hope this letter finds you where ever you are at this point in your life. If you are reading this letter, you know that I have passed. You're probably wondering why I have willed my house and all its contents to you. Well, allow me to explain. When I first met you, I knew you were a beautiful and talented young woman. You're parents loved you, child. Your father should have never resorted to drinking after your mother's untimely death, but he truly did love you. When you came into my home, you filled me with joy that I had not felt in a long time. I'm sad to say, not even my own children, Henri and Pierre, could compete with the overwhelming glee I felt in my heart while you were with me.
Everything in my home, including the house itself, is yours. You don't have to worry about that old house of your father's...by the time you recieve this letter, it will have been torn down. Your instruments, such as the piano, piccolo, flute, trumpet, French horn, and clarinet...along with all of the sheet music that could be found are in your old room.
Sincerely,
Madam Bardoix 'Maman' "
"It seems Madam Bardoix had all of this planned out long before your father decided to go completely insane. However, how did she know that your father would no longer be in that house?"
"She had notified the police of his brutality towards Kiera," a new voice answers from the doorway.
"Pierre?" I ask at the sight of the man.
"Bonjour, Kiera. I'm sorry for just waltzing in. The door was unlocked." He bows and then kisses my hand. He is much older now...probably in his late thirties or early forties. "She intended to have Monsieur Torque taken to the asylum, and then take you in to raise herself. She never thought that your father would stoop to murdering anyone else just to get to you."
"I'm honestly amazed that you haven't blamed me for her death."
"Henri and I both blamed you at first; however, we realized that Mother loved you like her own and you loved her. We knew you could never hurt her. I apologize," he explains. "For that day when we came to visit with our wives and treated you so poorly. I'd never seen Mother so happy. You have my apologies for everything."
"I accept. Allow me to introduce my fiance...Erik Mardon. Erik, mon chere, this is Pierre Bardoix...Madam Bardoix's eldest son."
"Fiance? Well, it's an honor to meet you, Monsieur Mardon, and my congratulations. I hope the two of you have a wonderful life together. Au revoir." He turns to leave.
"Pierre, won't you stay and have some tea?"
"I wish I could, but Laurette is waiting for me in the carriage. Thank you for the offer though." He closes the door behind him leaving Erik and I both baffled.
"What will you do with her house, darling?"
"We'll restore it and then live there after the wedding. I don't think the cellars of a burned opera house are the best place to live..." I glance at him and smile. "And perhaps raise a family."
His eyes soften and his lips curve into a grin. "Perhaps."
"Who was it, dears?" Madam greets us.
"You remember the woman I told you about who cared for me for a short time?"
"Yes. Why?"
"In her will, she gave me her house and all its contents. Here is the deed." I show the document to her. "The other man we spoke to was her oldest son."
"Then the two of you will have a house of your own to stay in. Now, shall we get back to planning the wedding? All that's left is to set the date."
"How about three weeks from now? April 29th?" I suggest. "That will give us time to make sure the priest can be ready, and we'll also have time to fix up Madam Bardoix's house."
"Very well. I shall speak with the priest tomorrow." She sighs. "Wonderful."
Two days have passed since I recieved word that I am the new owner...as Erik will be soon...of Madam Bardoix's estate. Erik and I have decided to go see what the years have done to my old home. If we are to live and possibly have a family of our own, it will need renovation. Nothing extravagant for now.
"Here we are," I sigh, stepping from Madam Mardon's carriage. "Isn't it lovely?"
"Quite ordinary," Erik begins. "Yet, beautiful. Shall we see the inside?"
I smile and pull the key from my pocket. As we walk up the path to the front door, I look to where the house I was born in once stood. Tears come to my eyes, the memories from the happier days I spent with my parents returning to the forefront of my mind.
"Madam wasn't lying, then?" He puts his arm around my waist.
"No. I suppose Pierre and Henri went through with her plan." I wipe away a stray tear. "I shouldn't regret that it's gone; there were so many horrible memories in that house, but there were also a few good ones."
"Your real mother?"
"Let's inspect the Madam's house." I walk up to the door and unlock it.
"Kiera...if you want to go to the site..."
"No." I turn the nob and push the door open. All of the furniture within view is covered by white sheets; however, it all seems to be right where it was that night. The pictures on the wall are the same: the small one of Christ hanging over Madam's armchair, the one on the mantle of her husband, and of course, the enormous painting of her entire family hanging proudly above the fireplace. "Everything seems in order here."
Erik pulls the duskcover off the item...the old sofa. "Do I dare ask what memories you have of this?"
"Madam Bardoix would sit there and listen to me play my violin for hours. I remember the first time she convinced me to sing for her. She was sitting right there, and I was standing on the rug, there..." I point to the elaborate multicolored rug covering a great deal of the floor in a circular pattern. "My knees were trembling; I was twiddling my fingers and singing more to the floor even though I knew that I should hold my head high and project my voice." I go to the very place I had stood then and look about, recalling that day.
"What song did you sing?"
"I'm not sure if I remember it."
"You're a terrible liar. Please, sing." He sits down on the sofa and waits.
I agree at last and close my eyes.
"I know you think you're all alone,
I haven't been there when you needed me,
I didn't deserve the love you gave,
But now I'm telling you, I'm here, if you need a friend.
Give me your pain,
Give me your anger.
Let me be your rock,
I can be the pillar of strength that you need.
I'll help you keep it all together.
It's not too late remember,
Lay your world on me.
I can take the weight.
Don't let it twist you up inside,
Time never fails to make the heart ache stop.
You gotta let those feelings go.
I'll give you everything I can,
If you say the word.
Give me your pain,
Give me your anger.
Let me be your rock,
I can be the pillar of strength that you need.
I'll help you keep it all together.
It's not too late remember,
Lay your world on me.
We all laugh and we all cry,
We all hurt the same inside.
We all fall down when we lose faith,
In who we really are.
But if we bend instead of break,
The choice for us is to make it together(together).
Lay your world on me
I hope you keep it all together.
It's not too late remember,
Lay your world on me.
Lay your world on me.
Lay your world on me.
I can take the weight."
"That was lovely, and it holds a great deal of meaning." Erik stands up, clapping with a smile on his face. "Brava, cherie!"
"Merci, mon chere." I curtsy and then return to him.