VII

Christine stared out the window of the flower shop and sighed. Meg had been partially right, they had been able to learn most things quickly. But she found that she didn't like the job at all, it bored her and kept her busy when she would have much rather been idle.

He was dead, she had decided that shortly after the fire. Her angel was dead, killed by an angry mob or the fire that had ravaged the theatre. She had heard his final cries and they had torn her heart apart. The fact that he still seemed to haunt her dreams only made it worse.

She wanted to cry, in fact, it was all she ever felt like doing. But there was no time. Meg would drag her off to work in the morning, and they would not return until evening. Then there was dinner and then there was bed.

"Christine?" Antoinette asked, "my dear, you look unwell. Perhaps you should not go out tonight."

"I'm fine," Christine replied, looking at her own pale reflection in the mirror, "just a bit tired."

"You are always tired," Antoinette sighed, "if there is something bothering you-"

"There's nothing," Christine lied, smiling at her guardian, "I'm just a bit nervous about going out with Raoul tonight. I'm supposed to have dinner with his family again."

Raoul, she hadn't seen him in nearly a week, though she didn't find that she missed him very much, which only served to make her feel guilty. So, when he had discussed a dinner with his parents, she said that she would be happy to attend. Even though it was far from the truth.

"He's here," Meg said, poking her head into the room, "oh, you look beautiful, Christine."

"Thank you," she replied, hurrying towards the front hall.

"Good evening, Little Lotte," Raoul greeted, a warm smile playing on his features.

"Raoul," she smiled, "its so good to see you again. I've missed you."

"And I you," he replied, kissing her hand, "come, we'll be late otherwise. Madame Giry, I promise to have her home at a respectable hour."

"You had better," she shot back.

"I promise," he repeated, "ten o'clock, midnight at the latest."

"Very well, have a good time," she said.

Christine smiled at her and allowed Raoul to lead her to the carriage. Once inside she let out a small sigh and smiled at him. He looked well, for the first time in a what seemed like forever there were no dark circles under his eyes and he didn't' seem so pale.

"You look tired," he said sadly, "are you feeling well?"

"Fine," she replied, "though I guess a bit tired. Meg is very enthusiastic about our working to help Madame."

"When we get married," Raoul said happily, "you won't have to work."

Christine smiled, but found the thought of it a bit unsettling. It wasn't that she didn't like to work, in fact she had loved working at the theatre. It was just the job, at the moment, she had never really been one for flowers. Yes, they were pretty to look at, but what was the real point other than that?

"Think about it," Raoul continued, "we could be happily married, no more secrets, Christine!"

"Yeah," she agreed, "that would be wonderful."

Raoul smiled and placed a kiss on her lips as the carriage jostled to a stop. The driver quickly opened the door and Raoul climbed out, turning to help her.

The house was beautiful and they were both greeted warmly by Raoul's parents. They were just as Christine remembered them. A larger man with thinning grey hair and a moustache, and a lovely woman with greying blonde hair, pinned up so it would stay out of her face.

"Mother, father," Raoul said cheerfully, "you do remember Christine, don't you?"

"How could we forget?" the comtesse replied.

"Yes, you are looking well," the comte muttered.

"Its good to see you again," Christine murmured, forcing herself to smile.

"Yes, indeed," the comtesse agreed, "come now, dinner is ready to be served."

Dinner wasn't as bad as she had thought it would be. Raoul and his father talked about business and Christine nibbled on her food. She didn't really feel very hungry, but she didn't want to appear rude.

"You are looking a bit pale," the comtesse commented after a while, "are you feeling well?"

"Oh, just a bit tired," she said, "its been very busy lately."

"Ah yes, that whole affair."

"You've heard…"

"My dear girl, I believe that all of Paris knows of it," she said with a light chortle.

"I see…"

"You are sure that you are well?" she repeated.

"Just tired," Christine repeated.

"Yes, well the city never was a good place to get any rest," the comtesse commented, "I always found that some time in the country does me well when I am under the weather. Have you ever considered that?"

"I couldn't," Christine replied, feeling herself shrink in the chair, "I have work."

"Poor dear," she said, placing her hand over Christine's, "it must be hard to work after such a traumatizing event. You should really be resting."

"I don't' mind," Christine lied.

"You're very brave," the comtesse said, "Albert, when was the last time we went to the country?"

"Hmm, I believe it was last summer," he replied thoughtfully, "before we went to Spain."

"Of course, how could I forget? I was just telling Miss Daae that she could benefit from some time in the country."

"Mother," Raoul groaned.

"Oh shush! She is terribly pale, I am just suggesting a few weeks to improve her health."

"That seems a splendid idea," the comte agreed, "don't you agree, son?"

"Christine has to work," Raoul argued weakly.

"If you say so," his mother sighed, "however, insist upon you coming with your father and me. You've been under a lot of stress lately, don't you think a few weeks will be nice?"

"I have work," Raoul argued, "I cannot leave Paris for at least three weeks, and neither can father."

"So I am to go alone?" she sighed, "oh well, I'm sure you will visit, no?"

"Of course," Raoul agreed.

"Good, now if everyone is finished with dinner, how about dessert?"

After dinner Christine felt entirely drained, and was glad to get into the carriage to go home. Raoul also seemed a bit exhausted, his mother had continued to fuss over Christine's health throughout the evening.

"Maybe, you should just go with her," Raoul sighed once they were in the carriage.

"Raoul I can't."

"She has a point," he said earnestly, "you're quite pale, and with everything that has happened perhaps you should get some rest. it's a beautiful place, it would do you good."

"I don't know…"

"Please," he said, taking her hands in his, "Little Lotte, just think about it. I could come out and visit for a few days, it would be very romantic."

Christine just sighed and looked out the window and watched the houses flit by. The country did sound welcoming, but the thought of spending so much time with the comtesse made her stomach turn.

"I'll think about it," she said once they reached the small flat.

"Thank you," Raoul said, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek, "I will see you tomorrow, Little Lotte."

Christine nodded her head and went inside the small flat. Antoinette was waiting up for her and offered to help her get out of the dress.

"I'll be fine," Christine said, "but thank you. I'll see you in the morning, Madame."

"Sleep well," she replied.

"I will, thank you. See you in the morning."