A/N: I cannot apologise quite enough for how long it has taken me to update this story. I'm struggling to write at the moment and I hope that this chapter does not disappoint too much.
I am around half way through Chapter 53 and so it will not be long before the next date, hopefully less than a week all going to plan.
RR I need the encouragement right now!
Thank you all for sticking with me!
Chapter 52- Opening Night
Christine found herself feeling shaken by her morning with James. She had not realised the depth of his feelings for her and now, as she sat alone in the silence of what had now become her bedroom, she felt her heart sinking deeper into her stomach. James was such a wonderful man and in the few weeks she had known him he had become a good and trusted friend. Thinking back now she wondered how she had not noticed his feelings for her.
She looked down at herself, over her legs and her arms, balled her hands into fists and let them go loose again. Her body, her mind and her own self centred nature was the reason she had not picked up on James' feelings for her. She felt her eyes begin to sting and quickly swiped the emerging tear away. You selfish woman, she thought, and her body began to shake with the anger she felt at herself. All she had thought about for the last few weeks was Joshua and Erik, but really it could all be summed up as thinking about herself. She had become so used to it over the years, having to fend for herself and look after herself, that she now did it without thinking. Her mother had died when she was a baby, her father when she was a teenager, Erik had gone, Raoul had gone and then Joshua... but sometimes losing yourself within yourself could be a horrible mistake.
Poor James, she thought and she felt her heart dip further.
Part of Christine wished that she could feel the same way about him, she wished that she could love someone like James, someone so caring, so thoughtful... so kind... but James was simply not for her. Had it not been for Erik, for the way she felt about him, she thought that she could probably learn over time to love James but it would never have been right. It would never have been the way she felt about Erik or even the way she had loved Raoul.
She fought back tears as another knock at the bedroom door startled her.
'Come in,' she said, but this time her voice was quiet and the caller knocked again a little louder. 'Come in,' she repeated.
Joshua's face peered around the edge of the door and when Christine nodded at him, he walked right in and sat on the bed, without the shyness he had once had. She had seen him a few times over the last few weeks, he had played violin for her, spoken to her about his few friends, they had even played cards a few times though Joshua insisted on betting for pieces of fruit. It was a habit, no doubt, that he had picked up from watching Erik. Once in a while she sang to him quietly.
It hurt her to see him and for him not to know who she was but this was, she suspected, as good as it would get. Any contact with her son was good... it would just have to be good enough.
She watched him as he shuffled himself on the bed to get comfortable, forcing Christine to bounce slightly on the expensive mattress. When he finally looked at her his eyes were dark and concerned.
'What's wrong?' she asked, turning her body so that she was facing him.
'It's my father,' he said quickly and Christine felt her stomach somersault.
'What about him?' she asked, trying desperately to keep the nervous tone out of her voice.
Joshua seemed to think for a moment before he continued: 'He did not come back here last night...'
Christine swallowed, nodded.
'And when he came back he was all... dirty,' Joshua said. 'Do you think something bad happened?'
'I'm sure it didn't,' she said quietly. 'Did you ask him?'
Joshua nodded.
'And what did he say?'
'He said that he had been caught in the storm,' Joshua answered.
'But..?'
'He looked... different,'
Christine smiled. 'Because he was muddy?' she asked.
Joshua's response was to frown and shake his head.
'Then how did he look different?' she frowned in confusion.
'His face changed,' Joshua said. 'Like he was... hurt, his face was sort of sad, do you know what I mean?'
Christine nodded.
She knew.
James' back rested against the brick exterior of the outhouse. He was at the end of the garden hidden by the small building, sitting with his knees tucked up to his chest and staring out over the distant hills that surrounded the outskirts of London. Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles he felt the heavy tug pulling on his heart and he swallowed back the lump crawling into his throat.
Chrissie.
The experiences that James had had in his life had never compared to the last month and nothing he encountered in the future would either. In a matter of only weeks he had accomplished some of the greatest emotions known to man. He had felt confusion, he had fallen in love, he had felt the wrath of another man, he had felt his own anger, jealousy, his own disappointment and deepest of all, he now felt heartbreak.
The breeze washed over him as he tucked his knees into his chest, pulling them in with his arms, the blue sky touching the hills on the horizon seemed to deepen with his mood. As he sat alone he realised that he felt no anger towards Chrissie or Erik Valesk. He did not even feel betrayed because, despite his dreams and his wishes, he had known all along that Chrissie felt nothing for him. When they had spoken she had never denied that she cared, or that she saw him as a good friend but not love.
He felt the pang against his heart again.
When the footsteps approached from behind he didn't even flinch, Nadir had
been skulking around him for most of the day and finally he had found his
hiding place.
'What are you doing here?'
James leapt up and turned around. Erik Valesk stood looking at him, his hands tucked deeply into his pockets, his cool blue eyes reflected the skyline.
'Um, I...' James stammered but nothing coherent came out.
Valesk smiled and stepped past him to the edge of the garden and he himself looked out over the horizon. 'I've never been down here before,' he said, glancing back at James.
'It's nice here,' James said, although his throat felt tight.
'Do you often hide here?' Valesk asked, plucking a leaf from the hedge to his left and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
'No, sir,' James replied.
Valesk nodded. 'Would you like to attend opening night this evening?' he asked.
James blinked then frowned, Erik Valesk made no move to turn around or
acknowledge James' surprise. 'I don't think...'
'I'm inviting you James,' Valesk snapped. 'Do you want to go or not?'
'Sorry sir,' James said, feeling his head bow through habit. 'I would like
to go.'
He really would like to go. James had only ever been to the theatre once before, many years ago, when a younger Nadir had taken him and another friend as a birthday surprise. Of course, it wasn't opening night, in fact it was a matinee nearing the end of the shows run. Still, James had enjoyed it very much.
'Do you have suitable attire?' Valesk asked, turning around to look at James. His back was to the sun and it caused his face to be masked by shadow. James felt a cool shiver along his spine.
He nodded. 'Yes sir,'
'Then be ready at seven thirty,' Valesk said. 'You will be accompanying Fiona,'
James frowned. 'Sir, a question,' he swallowed. 'If I may?'
Valesk gave a slow nod but said nothing.
'Why is Madame Valesk going to opening night?'
Erik Valesk shrugged. 'I thought she should come,'
'Are you taking Joshua?'
Valesk nodded his head and began to walk away. 'Be ready at seven thirty... you're in Box five,'
'Er...' James stuttered. 'Monsieur Valesk!'
Erik Valesk turned slowly and let his eyes fix onto James.
'Is there any particular reason you want me to be there?' James asked.
'No,'
It was all as simple as that to Erik Valesk, the genius and the scholar… and then he was gone.
She was beautiful, no one would deny that. Her dark hair was pinned up into an elegant twist, showing the long smooth lines of her neck. Her dress was a deep emerald, matching the devastating shade of her eyes, and she wore nothing to conceal her beauty. Even in the cool of the evaporating winter the shawl she slowly slipped onto her slender shoulders was merely for the journey to the theatre. Inside the Opera House the skin of her shoulders were remain bare and for all to see, it could never be said that Fiona Valesk was not a woman of her own mind.
James patted the front of his suit nervously and glanced at himself in the long mirror at the bottom of the stairs. He stared at the black suit adorning his slightly trembling body, he felt a lump of sadness well into his throat and he swallowed it back down quickly. With only his finger tips he brushed the arms of the jacket and remembered it's origins. It was the only formal suit that he owned, other than the ones he worked in.
It had been his fathers.
And his father had worn it only once.
James took a deep breath.
'You look lovely James,' Fiona said as she walked from the dining room.
James felt a rather hot blush creep over his skin. 'Thank you, Madame,'
She smiled warmly. 'Perhaps I should be Fiona for tonight,' she said, and held a box out for James to take.
'Won't Monsieur Valesk...' James began taking the velvet case from Fiona's fingertips.
'Hush,' she said. 'He will spend most of tonight backstage and I will not have you call me Madame all night when you're sitting with me in an opera box.
'Very well, Mad...' He swallowed. 'Fiona.'
She smiled. 'Would you mind helping me with that James. Sarah has disappeared somewhere and Erik has already left for the theatre with Joshua.'
James slid his thumbnail under the edge of the box and let it creak open in
his hands. Inside lay a small gold necklace, adorned by a blue jewel. When
James looked back up from the box, Fiona Valesk had her back to him, with her neck bent slightly.
'Don't just stand there,' she said, and James heard the laugh catch in her throat. 'We have a show to get to.'
He struggled against his smile but could not stop it, and Fiona returned the sentiment as he placed the chain gently around her neck and clipped the back carefully. He watched patiently as she positioned it whilst looking in the mirror and the smoothed her dress down.
'Are you ready?' she asked, looking quickly from James to the driver. Both men nodded earnestly and the driver led the way, letting James hold the front door open for Fiona to step out into the cold night. The driver pulled the coach around and Fiona stroked the chestnut mares nose before walked towards the door and stepped inside followed by James, who closed the door himself.
As the horses set of, taking them to the theatre merely ten minutes away, James felt an uneasiness settle in his stomach. The cab was quiet for barely a minute before James felt Fiona's eyes drift over him.
'James,' she said, and he looked up at her.
'Yes Madame,' James gritted his teeth as he saw her frown. 'I'm sorry, Fiona,' he corrected.
She nodded. 'You love her, don't you?'
James felt his heart begin to pound rapidly in his chest, he felt a bead a sweat pool against his temple 'Who?' he managed to ask.
'Chrissie,' she said simply. 'You love her.'
Unsure of what to say or where to look he let his eyes fall to his hands resting in his lap. Was he that obvious, he thought, as he tried to mentally make his body cool back down.
The uncomfortable silence surrounded them until it was so thick that he feared not even a guardsman's sword could cut it. It was Madame Valesk who finally broke it.
'I'm sorry James,' she said softly, and reached out to touch his hand. 'You have as much right to your privacy as I.'
James somehow found the courage to look up. 'I do love her,' he said, his voice but a whisper.
'Then why do you look so sad?' she asked, squeezing his hand as your best friend might.
'Have you never heard the expression 'love hurts''? he asked, forcing a smile, attempting the lighten the atmosphere.
'I've heard it,' she said. 'And I agree with it... to a certain extent.'
James swallowed hard.
'Love should make us all happy,' she said softly, letting go of his hand as if what she had done was the most natural thing on earth. 'Love hurts me because sometimes Erik is somewhere else... somewhere that isn't with me.'
Her pause stiffened the silence once more and James felt his hands begin to feel slightly wet.
'Why does love hurt you, James?' Fiona asked, her sparkling eyes resting on his face.
'Because my love is only one way,' he said, suddenly wishing he had not agreed to go to the theatre, wishing he was back at the cottage in his room wallowing in self pity as a person was allowed to when they had had their heart broken.
'She doesn't love you in return?' Fiona asked.
He shook his head.
'Has she said that?' she asked.
'Not as such,' he said. 'But she does not need to tell me... I know.'
Fiona's eyes seemed to be searching him.
'Her heart belongs elsewhere...' he said quietly, fighting away a tear. 'It has for many years.'
'She lost someone?' Fiona asked.
'In a sense, yes,' he said, trying to guard his words as best he could. 'She's hoping to find him again someday.'
'Lets hope we all find the peace that we need,' Fiona said. 'Someday.'
