Disclaimer - I do not own any of the character form he phantom of the opera, whistle down the wind, cats or for that matter, evita. Nor any of the songs from ubove musicals.
Chapter 8 My Angel Once More
They got back in hardly any time. In fact, Eric barely remembered the trip back. His only thought was of Christine. She had actually stood up for him and against Raoul no less! It was brilliant, it was fantastic, it was a miracle, and it was the greatest feeling in the world.
As soon as the tip of the boat his solid ground, Grizabella leapt off, her fur lank and greasy and thin. Blake looked after her, a worried expression marring his handsome features.
"You sure she's alright?" he murmured under his breath so she couldn't hear. Eric shrugged.
"Who cares!" he hissed. "Do you believe that the First Lady of Argentina gave me a pardon!?"
Blake gave him a look of disgust and went to see to Grizabella on his own. She did look a bit bedraggled, he admitted. Even a little sick. But she was a strong cat, she would manage without him. She would probably be too proud to accept help from him anyway, he sniggered.
He pushed the boat away from the bank with the staff, carefully manoeuvring it round to face the exit, and heaved it forward, going the way he had come. Somewhere in the labyrinth of tunnels, he chose a different rout. His heart was thudding hard against his ribcage. He could never believe his luck. His head was filled with a swirl of confused emotions. His common sense told him to leave Christine alone but he couldn't bare not seeing her again even for a second. He longed for her presence, ached for her voice, craved her touch.
This is madness indeed, he thought. But all is fair in love and war… Well, maybe not war. He had seen too much fighting to call war fair. But to fight for Christine? He would give his right arm to smell her perfume again. No, he would give his life to have even one hour with her. He pushed on feverishly, his face creased with the effort and his shoulder numb.
Soon he came to a brick wall. On the other side was a small and pretty chapel. Often, Christine would come to light a candle for her father. She wouldn't be there now, but maybe, just maybe… he put his ear to the stone, cold and wet and frighteningly thick. But he know all he had to do was simply call her name and she could hear him.
"Christine!" he called desperately. "Please, Christine, are you there? Please be there!" he pounded on the stone. "Christine! Christine!"
He didn't really expect her to be there, but he shuddered and moaned in longing. Oh, just to hear her voice! His hand soon became red and sore from hitting the hard stones, his voice rough from calling her name. He was about to give up when he heard her. A sweet angelic voice singing for him.
"Angel of music
Guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory!"
He gasped. Her voice still had such power over him. For a while he couldn't speak. "Christine…?" he whispered.
"Angel…?" her china voice.
"I am your angel of music…"
He could hear her sighing with relief. He wished, he longed to see her through the stone. He sang, his voice tired but determined.
"Angel of Music
You denied me
Turning from true beauty
Angel of Music
Do not shun me
Come to your strange angel…"Her answering call was just as desperate, tinged with tears and almost pleading.
"Angel of Music
I denied you
Turing from true beauty
Angel of Music
My protector
Come to me Strange angel…Angel, I'm so sorry! I knew I loved you, but I was so blind. It is a fact that I have loved all my life at this Opera House!"
"Angel," he replied. "I know, I know… Please, do not apologise. I should be the one begging for your mercy. You are so much happier with the Vicomte. I should not have fought but left you to live a joyful life!"
"But, Angel…"
"No," he begged. "My lair is no home for us… I was foolish to even think of coming down here again!"
"Angel," she pleaded. "Listen. Raoul is handsome and sweet and endearing and loving. He would do anything for me. But I see no thrills with him. It is all flowers and outings and expensive dresses and chocolates! I long for the dark side of life, the hidden. The music of the night!" And she began to sing again.
"Night time sharpens
Heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs
And wakes imagination
Let the dream begin
Let your darker side give in
To the power of the music that I write
The power of the music of the night!Those words were your own!"
"That was a long time ago," he snapped.
"No," she sighed.
"But what about…?"
"Beauty is not but skin deep!"
"How did you know what I was going to say?" he stammered.
"Because," she said, giggling. "I know your every thought, as you know mine. How else could you know I would be coming here?"
"Christine, I love you…
Will you be my angel once more?"
"My life is nothing without you…"
"Will you be my angel once more!?" he demanded.
"Yes, I was once and I will be once more." There was a silence and then the sound of distant footsteps. When Christine spoke next, she sounded frightened and urgent. "I hear someone. It will be Raoul, come to collect me! Go! Go, now and leave me!"
Eric smiled. "Those were also my words once…"
"Go, take the boat!
Swear to me
You never will tell
The secret you know
Of the Angel in hell!"He swiftly leapt back on the boat and braced the staff against the bank. "Christine…"
"Angel, I love you…"With her last soaring words, he pushed forward and stole away into the darkness. A secret smile shared between himself and his angel…
I know there is too much singing and yes i also know that i promised to cut on singing but it's the only way i can think of to make the story more recognisable. If you have a probelm with this, then you will hate the next chapter where one of the character has a huge solo! But what do i care?
yours
The phantom of quill and ink!
