A/N- This chapter is really far too bland for my liking but hey, character development and all that jazz? Is that a viable excuse? In my defence, I was in the midst of exam panic while writing this and I kind of just want to prolong these scenes so everything doesn't happen just at once. I promise that next time, I will be more interesting! Thanks so much to all my lovely reviewers, I'm really loving hearing what you guys think
Also just seen that our avatars are now appearing next to our stories on the story listings… hot damn that's scary, I'm off to go make a cool display picture :D
Christine awoke with a start, silent but frightened as she took in her surroundings. She felt her breathing calm, though, as she realised she was still in Meg's room, sleeping beside her bed on the inflatable mattress. Passing her hand across her forehead to wipe away the thin layer of sweat, Christine thought back. It was just a nightmare. Only a nightmare.
"Christine?" Meg whispered, looking over the edge of her bed, squinting slightly. "You alright?"
"I'm fine, sorry. Did I wake you?"
"No, I always wake up at four o'clock in the morning."
"Oh God," Christine groaned, falling back against her pillows and putting her hands to her face. "I'm really, really sorry."
"Were you dreaming? Was it a nightmare?" Meg waited for a reply but the room remained silent for a few moments before Christine began whimpering and turned her face into a pillow, shivering. Without a second thought, Meg climbed out of her bed and slid under the second duvet, wrapping her arms around Christine.
"Nothing's wrong, Meg, I promise, I just overreacted, it's nothing." Christine said the words as confidently as she could, but even she knew that they came out as mere babbles, an incoherent blur that didn't at all sound convincing. Meg noted that she was not crying, per se, only shaking as if she had come under a sudden fright.
"Was it him?" Meg asked tentatively, brushing a few loose strands of hair behind Christine's ear. The girl turned her head slightly so that she stared at Meg with only one eye widened with a sense of fear or shock.
"No!" she quickly replied, but paused before turning onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She sighed heavily. "Yes. Jesus, Meg, I've gone mad!"
"It's not mad to still think about it," Meg assured, tightening her hold on Christine. "It's only natural that you'd have nightmares."
"Then why can't I dream of the bad times?" Christine murmured, clasping her hand over her mouth as her eyes watered. Meg paused and let the words sink in for a moment before propping herself up on her elbow, looking down at Christine with worried eyes. She thought for a moment she had heard wrong, though the guilty look in Christine's eyes said otherwise. Meg waited to think of a response that would hopefully lessen Christine's worries, but it was harder than she initially thought.
"I… don't know what to say, Christine."
"Just tell me I'm crazy," she replied, choking on her words. "Tell me I deserve to be locked up in the loony bin, I'm sure I do."
"Christine! Look, you're not mad. Not even a little bit."
"But- I'm meant to be angry, aren't I? With him?"
"I really don't know," Meg murmured in return. "Chris, have you… talked to Nadir about this?"
"I don't want to bother him."
"That's kind of his job." Christine paused and sniffed loudly to stop the sob she felt rising in her throat.
"I don't want to bother anyone about this."
"Maybe it'd help. It doesn't even have to be one of us. Just try talking to someone? Anyone? Paul, Jammes, Phillipe, Raoul?"
She shrugged and turned onto her side, looking at Meg. A small, sad frown played on her lips and Christine saw a small crease in between her eyebrows. Despite the sad sight, a small voice cried out triumphantly in Christine's mind, as if trying to cry out to Erik. See! I wasn't forgotten! They care!
"You're determined to look after me," Christine said with a soft smile. Meg's own features lit up slightly, the crease still between her eyebrows but a small smile on her lips.
"Of course I am. I haven't been able to baby you properly in ages."
"You got your ears pierced," Christine murmured as her eyes closed. Meg could not help but smile, the poor thing looked utterly out of it by the later portion of the evening.
"And you grew your hair," Meg noted.
"You got a fucking tattoo," Christine retorted, wrinkling her nose at the thought. "I missed out on so much…"
"You didn't miss that much."
"Don't lie. Raoul's been keeping me updated, you know?"
"Oh, so that's what he was talking to you about? We'd thought he'd just fallen hopelessly in love."
"I think I've had enough love to last me a lifetime."
"Wait, were you…"
"No," Christine said, shaking her head slightly when she gathered Meg's assumption.
"What about that?" Meg asked, lightly tapping the ring bound finger on Christine's left hand. She shrugged lightly.
"I'm a little too sentimental for my own good."
"Is it official?"
"Yup."
"Go back to sleep, Chris."
The instructive tone made Christine laugh, but she did not question Meg's authority. It was obvious that she was perturbed at this point though far too polite to speak out about it. Christine wondered for a moment if she should try to amend the opinion Meg must have had of her at the time, but the time of night had finally gotten her and she was quick to fall asleep.
They did not mention the conversation again, a fact that Christine was grateful for. The morning was spent mostly with Meg's mother Ann chattering on, making up for lost time it seemed. Where her friends had thought it best to fill her in on the missing details of the year, Ann Giry took more pleasure in asking questions. They were not particularly invasive, simply inquisitive. Meg repeatedly tried to silence her but Christine assured her that the questions were not at all disturbing.
"Come off it Meg," Ann said after a brief chastising on her daughter's part. "If Christine had any issue, she'd have told me off herself, wouldn't you love?"
"I really don't mind," Christine assured Meg, though she still looked doubtful.
"You must tell me what the court house was like, I've never had a chance to go to one. Is it like on the telly?"
"A little bit. All those sort of official buildings look the same, really. Courthouses, police stations, hospitals, it's all pretty much the same."
"Oh, poop, that's sounds a little more boring than they try to make it out."
Christine shrugged non-commitedly. Boring wasn't the sort of word she would have used.
"You'll have to tell me what I have to do to get one of those blokes," Ann said in a mock whisper. "That Nadir? Absolutely gorgeous."
"Mum!" Meg squealed, mortified.
"Now don't you complain, missy, you're the one who shoved him in the kitchen with me. Thanks for the introduction."
"It was only to get the two of you out of the way, if I'd known you'd be a perve about it I wouldn't have bothered!"
"Did Nadir say what time he was popping round this morning?" Christine asked, though she had to force it through laughter. She'd never quite gotten over the close relationship between the Girys.
"Oh, he didn't leave," Ann said, winking at Meg who only sat with a slack jaw and wide eyes, inspiring a gust of laughter on Ann's part. "I'm joking! I'm joking! He said he'd be here for you around one o'clock, I'd assumed you'd both be awake by then."
"Hour and a half left. I think that's plenty of time to escape from your creeper ways. Come on, Chris, I'm sure we could think of a classier topic to discuss."
Meg grabbed hold of Christine's wrist and dragged her from the kitchen, the two of them grinning slightly as if in some sort of conspiracy together. Christine still felt somewhat light headed and dazed from the evening before and allowed herself to be taken away, though she had little reason to complain. Despite the fact that it was still technically morning- a time in which it had become a well learned lesson that Meg would gladly murder anyone who dragged her away from her bed- she was in an unusually good mood. The happiness was infectious, and Christine felt as if she hadn't even been gone.
Christine had always been slightly fascinated with the Giry household. Ann had once been quite successful in her dance choreography, working in a variation of ballets down in London. She retired some years after Meg was born and had made plenty enough keep them in a sense of luxury. Where Christine's room was fairly modest, Meg's seemed practically like an extra lounge with a bed in it. There was plenty enough room left in the room for Meg to dance as she often did, and as she chose to do when they arrived again. She deftly switched on her small CD player- one of the rare signs of modesty in the house- and pranced about in an improvised series of movements that seemed reminiscent of a dance.
"Dance with me," Meg demanded, grinning.
"Not on your life, I'd crush your foot."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."
"I don't think your mum would let me come back if I broke some of your bones."
"Well, if you're not going to dance with me then just sit there and tell me how pretty I look."
Christine laughed and stood, poking her tongue out at Meg before taking a few moments to wander about the room. There weren't enough books on the shelves for her liking, but what Meg lacked in books she made up for in ungodly amounts of pretty things. Baubles, jewellery boxes that lacked jewellery, empty perfume bottles, broken bracelets, small stuffed animals.
"You have so much stuff, you know?"
"You're just jealous because you don't have paper weights," Meg said, pulling a face.
"Just use a rock?"
"Why use a rock when you can have a rock covered in glitter?"
Shaking her head, Christine continued. Laptop, television, DVDs… it was all so foreign and new compared to what she was used to. She felt for a moment like a caveman, inspecting all these strange items as if they were from another time. Meg noticed her friend's bemused face but didn't say anything, slightly humoured by the scene. Christine finally stopped when she came across the only item in the room that was at all older than her computer at home- a keyboard. She brushed her fingers against the plastic keys lightly, a layer of dust rubbing off.
"Yeah, it hasn't really been getting the care it's meant to have," Meg admitted meekly.
"Did you ever even learn to play?"
"I can play Oh When The Saints if that's any consolation?"
"Not particularly, it's five notes."
"I'll have you know I'm bloody brilliant at those five notes!"
The CD stopped, the last song having been played, and Meg paused in her motion to swoop down towards her collection. She rifled through the different CD cases, wrinkling her nose at a good majority of them. Christine suspected that most of them were bought as a way of bulking the collection rather than for any real enjoyment from the music. She looked at Meg for a few moments before returning her attention again to the keyboard. Though she wanted to look away and simply help Meg with her pursuit of music, she found that she couldn't. Play something.
The urge to do so was irritatingly strong.
Go on, play something.
Just like Erik taught you.
She pushed this thought away from her mind before testing the keys. It was really quite a shock that they worked considering the minimal care they had been given. They had always played Mozart, if ever they spent a lesson simply playing the piano. Christine continued playing as Meg peered over towards her, grinning. She moved towards the piano slowly, mildly entranced.
"I didn't know you could play!"
"I learnt a bit."
"No, you perfected. Have you even heard you play?"
"If you like that you should hear me sing," Christine said, a little more proudly than she would usually allow herself to. Meg scoffed.
"Duh, I have, you're going to shove that talent in my face too?"
"I got better."
"You got really cocky, didn't you?" Meg said, laughing as she rested her chin on Christine's shoulder and watched her play.
"Eh, they're just useless little talents. It's not like I'm gonna be able to do anything with it."
"I dunno, Carla's always going on about her theatre classes," Meg said, rolling her eyes. The stories that girl had told them throughout the years had seemed increasingly ridiculous- it had been acknowledged by this point that not a single agent had come to beg for her as Carla claimed. "People make money out of this stuff all the time. Mum made a career out of dancing, I'm sure you can with singing. Or busking, if we're setting your bar lower."
"Busking sounds nice, but the costumes aren't as pretty." Christine smiled. "Perhaps I'll ask her about it. I mean, I don't really have anything else to do, I can't reapply to universities for months."
"Awesome. Now finish your song, I found some shirts you need to try on."
Christine laughed and somewhat reluctantly left the keyboard. A sudden burst of energy had run through her now that she had at least the vaguest idea of a plan- there had been little left for her to do now that she had finished her education but had nowhere to go. Perhaps local theatre had not been a part of Erik's grand plan, but at least his lessons were not to go to waste.