Lovely reviews, thank you! I actually decided to leave Raoul and the Girys out of this chapter in the end - I'm sorry! But they will definitely appear in the next chapter.
I've been very tired the last few days, and even though I have read this chapter through, if you spot any mistakes please let me know :)
Erik opened his eyes, his line of sight directly on Christine's side of the bed. She wasn't there. Normally, this wouldn't bother Erik - they often rose at different times, after all - but anything his wife did at the moment had him worried, delicate as she was. Who was to say that she hadn't wandered off again? Erik pushed back the covers and hurried out of bed… And noticed that his daughter wasn't in her cradle. He sighed and ran his hands over his unmasked face. Of course - Christine was seeing to their daughter, and, going by the time on the clock, giving Gustave his breakfast. He'd slept later than usual, but he knew that wasn't surprising, considering how late he'd been up. Still, he needed to see for himself before he was fully satisfied that nothing was wrong, so he quickly slipped into his robe and made his way to the dining room. He was almost there when he heard laughter drifting down the hall, his son giggling and his wife breathless along with him, and he sped up, rounding the doorway and seeing Christine and Gustave sat at the table, playing with Emilie, who was smiling and…
His mouth fell open.
The most beautiful, sweet sound reached his ears. Emilie was laughing! Well, not a full, proper laugh, not yet, but an adorable, little giggle escaped her lips, and every time it did, Christine and Gustave would laugh, too, which made Emilie do it again, like it was a game.
"Darling!" Christine exclaimed, noticing him and standing up, a quick kiss pressed to his lips as she reached him. "Did you hear her?!"
Erik reached for her and Christine passed her over, smiling widely as she did so, and what a beautiful thing that was, too, to see his wife so happy, so alive. What a perfect situation to wake up to. Emilie took the opportunity to stick her fingers into her father's mouth, and the humorous noise her father made in response evoked that glorious sound again. "You clever, clever girl!"
"Just wait until she's able to laugh properly - it's the most precious thing you'll ever hear. I swear Gustave used to get fed up with me trying to make him laugh after a while - one time he cried instead!"
Erik chuckled and Gustave, who was still sitting at the table finishing his breakfast, grinned around his fork.
"Morning, papa."
"Good morning, son. Don't speak with your mouth full."
"Sorry," he replied, before swallowing.
Erik shook his head, still smiling, and looked at Christine, who was beaming at him. He reached a hand out to touch her face. "You look beautiful today."
"Don't I always?" she asked, looking demurely at him, her blue eyes shining.
"Of course. Happy anniversary, my love."
"Oh, I was worried you'd forgotten!"
"Forgotten? How could I ever forget something like that? Wait a second." Erik took Emilie over to her brother. "Watch your sister a moment," he said, handing the still happy baby over to Gustave, who took her obediently. "Come with me." He took Christine's hand and led her out of the room and into the hall. "There was so much I wanted to do for you today, but I was worried-"
"It's all right," Christine cut in, taking his face in her hands. "I know I've been difficult. It doesn't matter, honestly."
Erik turned his head and pressed a kiss to her wrist. "You've not been difficult, don't say such things. None of this has been your fault. But listen, I do have something…"
Christine smiled. "What?"
Erik winked at her. "Wait and see. This evening I have something very special for you."
"You do?" Christine asked, winding her arms around his neck.
"I do."
"Well then. Happy anniversary." She kissed him, and then pulled away with a happy sigh. "Can you believe we've been married a whole year?"
Erik shook his head, his hands at Christine's waist. "No. But I'm not complaining," he murmured against her lips before kissing her soundly. Then his stomach rumbled. Christine pulled away, laughing.
"Go and eat. I'll dress, and then we can take the children for a walk."
But as she disappeared, Erik still had the feeling that all was not right.
"Isn't it a lovely day? We've been so lucky with the weather… Gustave! Not so close!"
"Sorry, mother!" Gustave called out, not looking at her and running towards and then away from the next wave to come rolling up the beach.
"That boy will be the death of me. I know he can swim, now, but he could still get swept out to sea. Should I call him over?"
Erik smiled as his son dodged another wave, and then turned to face his wife. "Leave him be – it's not rough out today, he'll be fine. Shall we sit here?" He gestured to the bench they were coming up to along the promenade and waited until Christine had sat down before sitting himself. He held out his hand and she took it with a smile.
They sat in silence for a while, and again Erik was able to let himself believe that nothing was wrong. The reality was, however, that he was even more worried now than he had been when Christine had been upset and sleepless. It wasn't something she could just recover from overnight. It drove him mad that he couldn't get inside her head, couldn't see how her mind was working or what she was truly thinking.
The baby fussed and Christine rocked the pram back and forth, attempting to settle her. Erik watched her closely, then looked down at his hands and sighed quietly. This wasn't what he'd wanted for their first wedding anniversary. He hadn't wanted his wife unwell, to be so unhappy and scared. He'd planned to take her out to dinner and then onto the theatre, to spoil her and cater to her every whim. He knew she didn't really care about all that, but he liked doing it for her, relished in it, because he'd never had the opportunity before, and now, in less than a year-and-a-half, he had a wife and two children and he now had something to do with all that money he'd made. It didn't matter, though, he knew that – it was only really bothering him because it meant that Christine was not in good health, that she was still suffering.
Emilie's fussing turned into loud wailing and Christine, alarmed, moved to pick her up. "My darling, what's wrong?" But as soon as Emilie was in her mother's arms, she stopped crying. Her little face, which had been scrunched up, relaxed, and she looked about her, smiling when she caught her father's eye. Both Erik and Christine laughed.
"Not giving you enough attention are we, little one?" Erik said, wiping away the tears still clinging to the baby's cheeks. Emilie grabbed his finger and bit down on it.
"That'll be a 'yes', then," Christine smiled, kissing the top of her daughter's head. Then her face fell.
"What is it?"
She shook her head, smiling again. "We're lucky, aren't we?"
Erik blinked, taken aback by her quick-changing mood. "Yes, we are. I certainly am. Christine…"
"I'm going to take Emilie down to the shoreline, show her the sea properly." She was up and gone before Erik even had time to process what she'd said. He quickly followed her.
"Father, come and play dodge the wave with me!"
"In a moment, Gustave," Erik said as knelt down beside Christine, who was holding Emilie close to the water's edge, just enough so they wouldn't get wet. Emile was smiling and cooing, almost giggling when the water came close and then fell away again.
"Look, she loves it," Christine said, adoringly, holding her daughter close.
Erik said nothing, he just watched, sadly, as his wife continued to entertain Emilie. He felt incredibly guilty for even thinking it, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could do this. He'd never leave her, ever, but he felt like he was beginning to crack himself – he just didn't know what to do, and he felt terrible, because he'd told himself he'd do anything to bring her back, that he'd rescue her, and he would… But could he? Apart from being there for her, apart from comforting her and doing his best to make her feel safe, could he? And where was that loathsome man's letter? He'd told Christine it was coming, and now he felt like a liar. She hadn't said anything about it, but he knew it wouldn't be helping her, knowing he'd promised something that hadn't happened, he was sure of it. He thought about paying Raoul another visit, and this time he wouldn't be as nice. But, however much he wanted to, he knew he couldn't leave his family alone at such a time.
"Erik?"
"… Yes? Sorry, sorry," he said, snapping out of it. "It's nearly lunch time – shall we make our way back?"
"Hello?"
"Erik, it's Cissy. I'm just calling to see how you all are, and… Well, I have a bit of news."
"Go on…"
"It's nothing to worry about, but the papers-"
"Oh, God…"
"No, let me finish. This morning they were speculating about Christine's mental health. I don't know how, but they know she's been… Well, you know. But anyway, I got onto them and told them that Christine was going to be absolutely fine, that she'd just been delirious from fever caused by flu, that you'd taken her out of the city – to the country, not the sea – and that she was recovering well. It seems to have worked – tomorrow they're going to be printing their best wishes instead of gossiping. I just thought you should know."
Erik rubbed a hand over his face and sighed in relief. "Cissy, thank you. What would we do without you?"
"I didn't think twice about it. You're our friends, Erik. Now, tell me – how is she?"
"She's… Oh, Cissy, I really don't know. I finally got her to tell me about her nightmares, and they're more awful than I could have ever imagined. The things she saw… The violence. No wonder she's been so afraid. She was devastated. And yet, today…"
"Erik?"
"She's behaving as if nothing has happened, but her face, when she thinks I'm not looking… She's so sad, Cissy. Pretending will do her no good, surely?"
"Oh, I just don't know. But maybe it's all part of the process? Maybe, after a while, she'll find she's not pretending anymore? Concentrate on everything positive. She told you about her dreams – that's a positive. It's all happened so quickly and it's no wonder you're all over the place. But she will get better, I'm sure of it."
"I hope so. I miss her terribly."
"You poor dear, you sound so tired. How are the children?"
"They're fine, I think. Well, Emilie doesn't know any different, and Gustave… Obviously he knows things aren't right, but he's been very good."
"I'm glad. Listen, would you like me to send Francine down to you? I know you left without any staff, but-"
"No, no, really, we're fine. It's better this way."
"Very well. But if you need anything, Erik, anything at all, just call."
"I will. Thank you, Cissy, and give my best to Henry."
"I will do, and give Christine my love. Goodbye, darling."
"Goodbye."
Erik didn't regret coming to Coney Island without any staff, but, in hindsight, he could have done with some help preparing dinner. It was because he was trying too hard, he knew; he wanted everything to be perfect. He'd thought, briefly, about calling on Miss Fleck, but the ones who stayed at Phantasma out-of-season because they had nowhere else to go didn't owe him any duty - apart from those he hired specifically to keep an eye on the park and hotel whilst they were closed - and even though she probably would have gladly helped, he would have felt bad for asking. He'd very nearly called Madame Giry instead, but he knew she would just take over and he'd end up getting annoyed with her, so that idea had been extinguished almost immediately.
When he was satisfied that he could leave the kitchen unattended, Erik took the lift back up to the suite and quickly changed for dinner before making sure Gustave had everything he needed, that he'd had enough to eat and telling him that he was to check on his sister in the nursery at regular intervals and only disturb them if it was absolutely necessary.
"Where is your mother?"
"She went to feed Emilie and then dress. What do I do if she won't stop crying?"
"She'll be fine, son. She will have been fed and changed, so just tell her a story or give her a cuddle if she's not settling. She's usually very good at getting off to sleep."
"But what if she doesn't and does cry and won't stop no matter what I do?"
Erik crouched in front of his son and fiddled with the buttons on his pyjama shirt, correcting the misaligned ones. "Well, then you can come and get us. Besides, you're good with her – she loves you."
"I know, I just haven't been left completely alone with her before."
"You won't be alone, Gustave, we'll be just downstairs. Now, would you run and tell your mother to meet me by the doors to the restaurant?"
"Yes, papa."
Erik ruffled his hair. "Good boy." He made his way back down to the kitchen, readied the first course, finished preparing the table, lit the candles, and then hurried into the lobby to meet Christine. He got there just as she was coming down the steps of the grand staircase. He wondered if he would ever stop being awed by her beauty and grace – he didn't want to be. He smiled as she approached him, dressed in a pale gold, embellished gown, her curls piled atop her head, diamonds hanging delicately from her ears. Erik took her hand and kissed it, bowing before her. "Madame. May I say, you look absolutely enchanting this evening."
Christine's cheeks turned a lovely hue of pink as she smiled in return. "You may." She stepped forward, a hand reaching out to touch his bow-tie. "White tie?"
"Of course, it's a very special occasion."
She smiled again and brushed her lips against his. "You look very handsome. Shall we?"
Erik opened the door for her, showing her through and then stopping behind her as she paused at seeing what was before her.
"Oh, Erik…"
The only light in the room came from the candles that had been dotted about. The electric lights had been switched off, and a beautiful, soft-focus warm glow lit the table and surrounding area. It was raining outside now, the wind picking up, and that only served to make everything just that little more cosy. A vase of roses and gleaming silver and crystal tableware completed the arrangement.
Erik moved around Christine and walked up to the table, pulling out a chair for her. "If you please…" She sat, and he poured her a glass of champagne. "I'll be back in just a moment."
Again, that false sense of security slipped in. Christine smiled. She talked and she laughed, and then Erik would watch her when she wasn't looking and the pretence would slip, only to be put back into place moments later. It was confusing. It was upsetting. But he let himself believe, every time she looked at him, so loving, so beautiful, that what he'd seen was merely a figment of his imagination. However, than, in itself, could only last so long, before the illusion was lifted completely.
"Darling, this is delicious. You should cook for me more often. That isn't to say that I don't enjoy Mary's cooking – I do – but I feel well and truly spoiled," Christine complimented, before spearing another piece of meat with her fork and placing it delicately into her mouth.
"I'm glad you like it. I almost burned down the kitchen, of course, but it was worth it."
"You didn't!"
Erik grinned at her.
After the main course had been finished, as they waited for their stomachs to settle before beginning dessert, Erik fished into his pocket and pulled out a little box, handing it to Christine, who took it delightedly and opened it excitedly.
"Happy anniversary, darling"
"Oh, Erik! It's beautiful."
"Look inside it," he said, smiling expectantly.
The gift, a gold, engraved oval locket studded with tiny rubies around the edge, was removed from its box, the clasp on the pendant opened. Inside were two small photographs – one of Erik and Christine on their wedding day, the other of Gustave and Emilie, which Erik had had taken in secret.
"Christine?"
Christine looked up at him a little tearfully. "Would you put it on for me?"
He nodded and moved around her, taking the necklace from her hands and securing it around her neck. "There. Stunning." He pressed a kiss to her neck and went to move away, but Christine took hold of his arm, and he knelt down beside her.
"I love it, thank you." She kissed him softly, and he melted into her for a moment before pulling away.
"I'm glad. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get Emilie to face the camera?"
Christine laughed. "I can imagine."
After dessert they made their way slowly back upstairs. Erik hadn't wanted it to end. It was so tempting, so easy to slide into denial and let things play out Christine's way, but it was hurting his head, disorientating him and exhausting him. He was confused. Was Cissy right? Was it just part of the process? Was it just something he needed to deal with because it meant that Christine might possibly be getting better? She had been right about one thing, though – it had all happened very quickly. Five days felt like five months, and no wonder he felt like he'd run smack into a wall.
"I'm just going to check on the children, and then I'm all yours again," Christine smiled, turning and walking away, leaving Erik to wander into their bedroom, where he sat down heavily on the bed.
"Erik?"
Erik jumped. Hadn't she just… He must have been lost in thought.
"Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost. Shall we dance?"
"Dance?"
"Yes, you're familiar with the concept?" Christine said, teasingly, going over to take his hand and pull him up.
"There's no music," Erik replied, a little dumbly, still out of sorts and not sure how much longer he'd be able to last without saying something about Christine's behavior. He didn't want to ruin their day, and God knew he didn't want to upset her. But he felt odd, nervous and queasy and tired and distressed all at once, and he didn't like it.
"Not in here, no, but there's that wonderful thing called a phonograph in the living room and… Erik, really, what's the matter? Has something happened?" Christine asked, her voice becoming more gentle. She put a hand to his face, and Erik smiled at her sadly.
"I'd be asking you that question if I didn't already know."
Christine frowned. "What do you mean?"
Erik took his wife's hands and squeezed them tightly. How was he supposed to put this? "Oh, my darling girl. I've… I've noticed."
"Noticed what?"
"You've been happy all day, except… except when you think I'm not looking."
Christine let out a small, humourless laugh and walked away from him, stopping at her dresser and fiddling with the little jars and bottles, moving them about and then back again. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. I'm perfectly fine." She turned back to him. "Now, how about that dance?"
"Christine, please…"
"Darling, I don't have any idea what you're talking about. Please don't worry about me," Christine soothed, walking back to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Erik took hold of his wife's arms and removed them from where she held him. "Christine, don't do this. It doesn't matter, you don't have to pretend, I don't want you to force yourself to be happy when you're not."
"What has gotten into you?"
"Just stop it, please…"
Christine put her hands on his shoulders and moved into him. "Erik, really, what are you fretting over?"
Again, Erik removed himself from her. It pained him to do so, but he had no choice. "Christine, you've not been yourself this past week, you know that, and yet today you've been all smiles, except when you think I'm not looking. I don't want you to suddenly act as if everything is ok because that's not going to solve anything."
"Darling…" Again, her arms about him. Again, Erik removed them.
"Christine, I'm trying to talk to you…"
"Will you stop pushing me away!"
"I'm just trying… Christine…"
"What is the matter with you?!"
"Christine, please…"
"Erik, don't…"
"Look, just…"
"Erik…"
"Christine, stop it! I don't know what to do! I can't… We're fine, everything is fine and if you don't realise that then we'll fall apart! Just STOP IT!"
For a moment, there was silence. Then Christine looked up at Erik with tears in her eyes, her lower lip trembling.
"I just didn't want to ruin our anniversary, that's all," she confessed, her voice small and wavering.
Oh, God, what had he done? His hands were on her shoulders. He must have grabbed her, although he couldn't remember doing so, but he obviously had. He felt sick. The look on Christine's face shattered his heart into a thousand pieces. He was so ashamed of himself that he did the worst thing possible in that moment - he left. He let go of his wife's shoulders, horrified, and fled.
Cliffhanger! Please don't hate me! But do R&R :) Thank you! Will try not to be too long with the next chapter, but I'm quite busy this week and next week, and then I'll be in Paris for a week after that, so I'll try my best to get something up before I go on holiday, but apologies if I don't.