A/N: Not too long since the last chapter, hmm? I'm pleased at any rate. :) Enjoy!

xxx

Christine quietly entered the door to the stalls of the main theatre, wincing as the dull banging of the door echoed rudely in the silence around her. She stepped even more lightly after realising who was leading this meeting she had arrived late for. A few titters came from some of the chorus girls as Christine pushed her way gingerly through the narrow aisles, finally sitting with relief in a seat next to Meg.

Having left Erik's home rather quickly after the exciting end of the singing lesson, both feeling quite awkward after the sudden end to their romance, Christine had emerged at last from behind the mirror in her dressing room to find that the corridors around the practise hall and the dormitories were empty. A queasy feeling settling rather decidedly in the bottom of her stomach, she had wandered around the backstage area of the Opera House for some time before deciding to check the main theatre. It was not that bizarre, of course, for a combined meeting to occur, but since performances had been put on hold, nothing so official had taken place.

As Monsieur Firmin's drone drifted tediously through the theatre, and the disapproving eyes turned back to the stage, Christine collapsed back into the chair with a small sigh, and turned to a questioning Meg with a smile.

"Where in the world have you been?" Meg hissed, glaring at Christine with more than a little envy. "Do you know we've all already been here for an hour?"

"What a pity I missed the fun," Christine mused, giggling a little at the incensed expression on Meg's face. She glanced to the stage, looking past the dull figure of Monsieur Firmin to find the expected Monsieur Andre standing pompously to one side of his partner, and the also-expected- though rather unwelcome- figure of La Carlotta, dressed entirely in a startling shade of violet. A self-indulgent smirk was plastered on the woman's face; Carlotta had clearly recovered well from the mortification of her last performance.

"The diva has returned?" she asked dryly, amused by Meg's eye-rolling response.

"The managers have been talking extensively about the new, intensive rehearsal plans for Il Muto, now that we've lost a week of performances- but what this really is, of course, is an opportunity to retrieve some dignity for poor Carlotta from her peers."

Christine nodded knowingly, and settled comfortably into her seat, ignoring the manager as he emphasised the importance of watchfulness backstage, and of reporting any peculiarities to the management. Instead, her eyes drifted to the empty Box Five to the side of the stage. Could Erik be watching her even now? Or was he still sitting before his organ, hands full of pens, ink and manuscript paper, as he had been when Christine left?

How she wished she could watch him…

Several moments later, Christine suddenly became aware of movement around her as Meg tugged impatiently on her arm. The speech had finally ended, and the crowd of people in the stalls were intent on making the most of their short break before evening rehearsals began.

"Honestly, Christine," Meg muttered quietly as the pair made their slow exit, "Would you like me to stand up at the next meeting and announce to the world where your affections lie these days, or are you content to do it yourself by staring unblinkingly at the well-known abode of the Opera Ghost?"

Christine blushed; she hadn't realised how obvious her attention- or lack thereof- had been to others. "I wasn't-" she began weakly, feeling compelled to make some excuse for her indiscretion, but was thankfully interrupted by the sudden appearance of Madame Giry.

The two girls had just exited the large doors of the theatre, hindered to a very slow pace, but willingly broke from the crowd to join the beckoning Madame as she strode across the wide hall and up the sweeping staircase, before coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of a blank stretch of corridor. Christine and Meg stopped behind her, slightly bemused by their odd location.

"Girls," Madame Giry started, clapping her hands together decisively- and yet also uncharacteristically- and gazing intently from Meg to Christine. She stopped whatever she was planning to say at that, however, and switched her complete attention to a slightly self-conscious Christine. "I noticed your late entrance to the meeting, Christine," she said disapprovingly, rapping her fingers on the wall behind her in a way that evoked images of discipline and other unpleasant circumstances. She sighed, and dropped her gaze to the floor, seeming suddenly tired. "It was an ironic contrast to your early exit of another meeting this morning."

Christine felt the queasiness return as she remembered that yes, that awful meeting had only occurred that morning. With all the terribly distracting events of the day, she had completely forgotten about the very worst part.

An unwelcome image of the unsmiling Inspector leapt into her mind, and she could barely keep from groaning as she remembered the true complexity of all those problems she still hadn't solved.

In any case, she had not spoken to Madame Giry since she had raced away from that horrid meeting, and had no idea what to say to her now. Her eyes dropped to the floor, and she waited for the overdue reprimands.

However, to her surprise, Madame Giry placed a comforting hand on her bowed shoulder and met her eyes with an even gaze as Christine slowly raised them, peering in surprise through her eyelashes.

"You will be happy to know that after the unseemly rudeness which provoked your exit, I gave the Inspector quite a talking to."

"You gave the Inspector a talking to?" Meg gasped incredulously, sharing Christine's wide-eyed wonder, picturing the man of such importance at the wrong end of Madame Giry's wrath.

"I told him," Madame Giry said with a rather unexpected smile, "that if he wanted to extract information about the Opera Ghost from one of my daughters, then he had another thing coming."

Christine broke into a smile herself at this, feeling glorious relief lift some of the tension from her shoulders. Once Madame Giry had made her decision, there was nothing and no one that could change her mind. And nobody, not even the Inspector, would dare risk making the woman angry. So she was safe for now! And Erik… the ominous threat that had seemed to face Erik for the past few days was gone!

"Christine," Madame Giry said quietly, breaking into the girl's jubilant thoughts, and the corners of her mouth drooped slightly as she looked up to find an expression of utmost seriousness lining the woman's face.

Christine's narrow shoulders sank a little once more as she came to a dull realisation that her troubles would never simply float away. She had not been completely happy, relaxed, satisfied for years; it was more of a habit to be vaguely miserable these days. Why had she taunted herself with thoughts of happiness?

As she heard Madame Giry sigh wearily, Christine gazed at her shoes, waiting for the woman to deliver the usual dose of pessimism. Instead, however, came a question from the previously silent Meg, standing slightly behind Christine:

"Christine… are those pebbles in your hair?"

Christine shot a glare full of mortified warning at her friend as Madame Giry sighed once more, with a lot more vehemence. Meg clapped a hand over her mouth to mute a bout of giggling while both of her companions silently grew pinker in the face.

"And I was just wondering what could possibly make this conversation even worse," Christine said mournfully, attempting to brush the pebbles discreetly out of her curls and failing rather miserably.

"I needn't bother uncovering drama around this place; you girls produce enough of it as it is," Madame Giry said wryly, staring from one of her girls to the other as she shook her head. "No, Christine, I don't need or want an explanation for the pebbles; I'm quite sure I would prefer not to know."

Upon these words Christine flushed even further and stopped combing her fingers through her hair, feeling quite put out. She was desperate to change the subject of the horrid conversation; she felt she could even bear hearing whatever bad news Madame Giry had been attempting to tell them.

"It is about Erik?" she asked quietly, looking at Madame Giry as the woman nodded, eyes narrowing once more with purpose.

"Is it ever about anything else?" the woman sighed vividly, stabbing a pin violently through an escaping strand of hair from her braided bun. "I believe that I must have angered the Inspector this morning, Christine, and you can probably imagine how. I passed by the managers' office on my way to the meeting this afternoon and found the door open. That man who was writing out the interview this morning, Monsieur Manesse I believe, came strolling out of the room just before I passed it."

Here Madame Giry's mouth tightened slightly, and she looked at both of the girls severely before continuing:

"Now, remember girls that I would never allow either one of you to break into the manager's office on a whim as I did. There is considerable difference between my station at the Opera House and yours, and I dare say you would get into more trouble than I would, had I been caught. However, after the excitement of this morning's meeting, I loosened my morals somewhat and decided to gather whatever information I could on the action the managers are planning to take. For they have not given up, mes filles; the Messieurs are terribly stubborn when it comes to matters of finance."

She gazed to the heavens and shook her head mordantly.

"That is what our good Monsieur O.G. is to them, you understand: a symbol of wasted money each month. They were just waiting for an opportunity like this, to rat out the Phantom once and for all. None of those men care about Joseph Buquet; I bet the Inspector and his friend have been offered a hefty reward for catching Erik."

"But whatever did you find in the office, Madame?" Christine broke in, her patience exhausted. If bad news was to arrive, she wanted it soon. Nothing could be done, no plans could be made if the problem was not discovered.

Madame Giry nodded understandingly, and hastened to continue.

"On a desk inside the office lay a large piece of paper bearing the signatures of both managers and today's date. It was a certificate granting the use of hounds to search through the underground passages of the Opera House."

Christine gasped; she felt Meg move a little, in shock or incomprehension, beside her.

"The search warrant comes into effect the day after tomorrow. Erik is no longer safe here."

"But the lake-" Christine said wildly, "surely the lake would protect him from the dogs!"

Madame Giry shook her head wearily. "You think there is only one way to enter his home, Christine? They will find him. It's simply a matter of time."

Christine slumped slowly against the hard wall behind her, closing her eyes for a moment while her mind and heart raced almost painfully fast.

"Does he know?" she whispered finally, overcome by the terrible combination of shock and panic.

"You must tell him immediately, Christine. I was going to inform him myself, but… the pebbles in your hair suggest that he'll receive the news more favourably if it comes from you." Madame Giry allowed herself a small, sad smile at this, but a concerned Meg was the only one who saw.

Christine's hair streamed wildly behind her as she raced breathlessly down the corridor.

xxx

A/N: Geez, Christine just never gets a break, does she? I thought my life as a 16 year old girl was hard enough with all my guy-problems, my friend-problems and my maths problems- but wow. I'd so have broken down by this point. But hey, them's the breaks for being a character in one of my stories. :)

There will be a lot of Erik in the next chapter to make up for this one, so look forward to it guys. The story's coming to a climax, so prepare for further action and excitement. (!)

Thanks to everyone for your reviews, and a special welcome to all my lovely new reviewers!

A bientot,

Froody