PART TWO: MEMORY OF A VOICE

14: Transition

"He said yes," Madeleine said eventually, after the President had gone.

"He did," agreed Erik. "You know, romantic novels would say that, when we were kissing, we should not have noticed anything else in the world."

"Perhaps we were not kissing properly. Do we need more practice?"

"Undoubtedly. But perhaps somewhere more private than here. Madeleine, you never cease to astonish me. I would never have dreamed of asking for amnesty."

"Oh, I dream of many things. That you would be free… that you would ask me to marry you… I hardly expected both to come true at once."

"You know I was knocked out by the explosion. When I came to myself… the one thought in my mind was that you were in the street, where I had thrown the bomb. I recalled my life since you have been with me, and saw a nightmare prospect of a life without you. That taught me to know myself. Taught me that the past, after all, can be left in the past. You are my present… and my future."

There was a discreet knock, and the Marquis entered, to find Madeleine seated sedately beside Erik, clasping his hand.

"Monsieur… Mademoiselle… the President has explained matters to me. You are both, of course, my most honoured guests. The doctor tells me that Monsieur expressed a wish to leave. If that is what you want, then we shall arrange it. But I hope I can persuade you to follow the doctor's advice and rest here, at least for tonight. Mademoiselle, please accept my word that your fiancé looks very ill. To be so near an explosion is a bad shock to the system." Madeleine knew it already. She could feel the fine tremors in Erik's hand, and his skin had a clammy texture, different from his usual dry coolness.

Erik sighed. "Very well. It is true, I feel… less than healthy. We shall stay here tonight."

Madeleine moved her hand to Erik's shoulder, then to his face and head. "You will need to remove the beard. If the doctor can give me some surgical spirit, I will do that for you." Ever since Madeleine had known about Erik's use of disguise, she had been curious and interested. Intrigued by her unflinching acceptance of his face, he had explained and discussed his tricks and skills with her. She knew that the skin on his face was very thin in places, and the glue which secured the beard would cause irritation if left on for too long.

"Yes, you had better do that," he replied. "If we speak of shocks to the system, let Monsieur le Marquis see just what he is harbouring. Monsieur, I left a grey canvas bag concealed in the cloakroom behind your staircase. Perhaps someone could bring it to me. And be warned, I cover my face for a reason. You may prefer to avoid the sight."

When Madeleine had secured a bottle of spirit and bowls of warm water, she set about cleaning away the glue which held Erik's beard in place. Once it was removed, she wiped the dried blood from around the cuts on his face. His disguise spectacles, lost now in the debris of the dining room, had protected his eyes from the flying glass. With professional interest the doctor watched her skill at the work and the strangeness of Erik's face as it was revealed. "You have a delicate touch, Mademoiselle. Monsieur, this one cut on your cheekbone would be the better for a stitch or two. It is not necessary for the others. Perhaps a little iodine…"

"Stitch if you want to," Erik agreed tiredly. "But no iodine. You would paint a clown's mask on a demon's face. If the cuts give trouble later, Madeleine can deal with it." The doctor moved closer to attend to the cut, and to bandage a soft pad over the head injury. Madeleine stepped quietly behind the sofa, reaching down over its back. Erik took her hand. "Madeleine, what became of Girard and the carriage?"

"The street was full of police. Girard sent the carriage to wait a little distance away, and walked back here with me. When the footman came looking for me, Girard stayed behind, but said that he would be about the place, if needed."

"Could you get one of the servants here to guide you to the street? Girard will not approach a stranger, but you he will trust. Tell him to dismiss the carriage and go home. I will be in touch with him later."

The Marquis had come back into the room. "I shall find someone to go with you, Mademoiselle. Meanwhile, Monsieur, my men will bring a bed into this room for you, so that you may pass a comfortable night without having to move too much. I shall have a room prepared for Mademoiselle."

"That will not be necessary," Madeleine said quickly. "This sofa will do very well for me. I prefer to be within the sound of Erik's voice."

"As you wish. We will arrange something here."

Erik opened his bag and produced a hooded mask in black silk, which covered his face down to the chin. "You take my appearance very calmly, Monsieur le Marquis, but I shall wear this while your servants are in the room."

"By all means. When we found you, we noticed that you were disguised. Now I know the reason. I shall tell my men that you prefer not to show your face. They need not know why."

Madeleine was escorted to the street; after a few minutes Girard found her and was given the message. When she returned to the room, things had been changed. The Marquis took her arm and guided her around the new arrangement. A bed had been placed for Erik. The doctor and his assistant had helped him change into nightclothes and settled him in it, but the movement had evidently tired him. He pressed Madeleine's hand and tried to murmur reassurance, but made no more complaints about staying there for the night. The couch had been removed and a second bed brought in for Madeleine, concealed behind a folding screen. A nightdress and dressing gown were laid ready.

"This is very kind," Madeleine said, using hands and cane to locate everything. "Whatever people may think, Erik and I are not accustomed to sharing a bedroom. But after all that has happened, I wish to remain near him until we can return home."

Some food was brought for them, then they were left in peace for the night. Madeleine sat for a long time at Erik's bedside, clasping his hand, kissing him gently, stroking his forehead, until he fell asleep. Next morning he felt much better, sitting up in bed to eat breakfast. The doctor came back and reminded him that concussion needed several days of recovery. "I recommend complete bed rest for, say, four days. I can engage a male nurse to take care of your needs during that time. And of course, the Marquis will pay all the costs."

"No. No nurse."

"I rather expected that. Next best, then. You realise, of course, that you must not put weight on that leg. If I supply you with crutches, so that you can move if you must, will you try to stay in bed? Remember, if you push yourself too far, you will faint and fall. Mademoiselle is very capable, but she cannot pick you up and put you to bed."

Erik reflected that on one occasion she had done exactly that, but refrained from saying so. "Madeleine, are you willing to fetch and carry for me, until my head stops spinning?"

"Of course. More than anything, I just want both of us to be home."

The Marquis had arranged a private ambulance to convey them home. When asked, Madeleine agreed that it would be easier if Erik slept on the ground floor until his leg mended, and that there was a suitable room. The Marquis would send two men with them to rearrange the furniture under her direction. During this discussion, a messenger arrived from the presidential office, with papers to be signed and witnessed. Erik had long ago left his family name behind, and wanted a common surname. He had used the name "Lisle" when dealing with his music agent, and that was now made official.

With everything arranged, the group boarded the large, well-sprung vehicle, the doctor inside with Erik and Madeleine, the Marquis's servants on the box with the driver. Erik was still unwell, and slept for most of the trip. It was tedious, but eventually it was over. Madeleine directed the servants to clear the dining room and bring Erik's bed downstairs. While Madeleine and the doctor settled him in bed, the servants fetched milk, bread and other provisions. Finally, with relief, Madeleine was able to wave them all away, sending back her thanks to the Marquis. She returned to Erik's room, feeling her way around the new arrangement of furniture.

"They are gone." She sighed. "They meant well, and they were helpful, but oh, I am glad that we are alone again."

"And I. Come here." When she moved to his bedside, he slid an arm round her and pulled her down on to the bed beside him. She gasped, and laughed. "We are not wed yet!"

"I am being quite proper, my promised bride. You are on top of the covers and I am under them. I fear we must delay the wedding a little. I want to stand before the altar on my own feet, and not be distracted on our wedding night by broken bones."

"It's as well we have never used the brother-and-sister guise since we moved here. That would have shocked the townspeople when we marry. As it is, although I have called myself your housekeeper, I expect they think I am your mistress, and they will say you are making an honest woman of me."

"That would be beyond my skill. You are already the most honest woman I know." He paused for a moment. "Madeleine… before we marry… I want to make sure you understand about me… things you have a right to know. You already know that I have killed…"

"Fonta? Yes, I am not likely to forget. And… even before you told me about the others… I was sure that he was not the first."

"No. But, for what it is worth, he was the last. For my part, I have not forgotten your shock, when you learned about him. That you could accept my face so calmly, but be horrified by my actions... I have no wish to see that horror on your face again. But there is something else. My mind… I do not think of myself as insane, but, I suppose, neither does the most raving madman in the asylum. There are times when my mind… wanders. When I find myself in a world which, I realise later, is not the real world. Something like a dream, but a dream where I am moving, acting, affecting other people. You have seen this happen once."

"When you mistook me for Christine? You had just received a great shock, one which jolted you into delusion. You recovered quickly enough."

"But that was not the first time delusion had tricked me. It used to happen quite frequently. Recently, less so. Perhaps as I grow older, my dreams are growing weaker. But I cannot promise that it will never happen again."

Madeleine thought about that for a while. Eventually she replied slowly, "I have heard… that living too long alone can upset the balance of the mind. You, I think, had lived virtually alone for many years. I remember being puzzled by the way you sometimes spoke of yourself as though you were speaking of someone else, and perhaps that showed that you were not quite in touch with reality. But, Erik, you are not alone now. You have not been alone since that day you found me hiding in your cellar. I know my presence has sometimes been an intrusion, a nuisance. You need not stir yourself to deny it! But there were also times when I was an amusement or a comfort to you. Perhaps my nearness is enough to shield you from the demons of too much solitude. But if the shield should fail, if the demons rise again… still, I do not fear you. I want to be your wife."

"You are brave, as well as wise. Although… to marry me may not be the wisest choice which you have ever made. But if it is an error, it is a fortunate one for me." He kissed her forehead. "You look tired. Could you sleep a little?"

"Oh yes." Snuggled against him, she fell into a sweet, dreamless sleep.

O-O-O

He noticed when she woke, and stroked her hair. "Better? I slept on the way, but I think that you did not."

"The doctor kept talking. He seemed to think that, because I cannot see, I must be told everything which he could see from the window. Whether it was interesting or not."

"You have the gift of stillness. Not everyone has, or can even understand it." He kissed her, softly, but Madeleine responded, and the kiss grew stronger. Both could remember the one day when they had embraced. Not the first joining, the fierce burning away of Erik's frustrated desire for Christine, but the second, the gentle one, a matter of tender touching and exploring, each seeking to please the other, until passion swept away thought. The memory woke fresh desire.

"Oh…" With an effort, Madeleine pulled away. "This is not right. If we go on, we will regret it."

"Yes… you wish to wait until we are married… I understand," he murmured breathlessly.

"It's not that. I want you to be well, your hurts healed. I don't want to have to hesitate over every touch, in case I cause you pain."

"You are right, as usual. Go, then! Make some supper, while I lie here and try to mend my bones."

O-O-O O-O-O