A/N: Thanks to all who are still reading! All comments hugely appreciated xxx
It was late and he should be in bed, resting, but sleep would not come. Instead, Erik seethed with nervous energy, it fairly hummed from his wiry body as he stalked back and forth within the confines of his hotel room, his shoulders hunched, his brow furrowed by a tight scowl.
Erik had agreed to meet Christine's son in the morning and the thought of the impending appointment bothered him immensely. Try as he might, he could not stop his overactive mind from dwelling on it, fretting about the boy. Christine was the centre of his universe; he idolised her and longed for a life containing her and no one else - but alas, that would not be possible now.
As inconvenient as it was, he knew that she adored the boy and would not be parted from him. Erik could not harm what Christine loved; she would certainly be suspicious if anything should happen to her son – however accidental it might seem.
No, if he wanted Christine to be happy then the child must be part of their lives, which meant Erik must be known to the child. It made him deeply anxious to think of it. If the boy did not like him – if Erik upset him in any way then Christine might look at him differently. What if the boy hated him? Might it change her feelings for Erik? If Christine had to choose between them – who would she select? Any discord between the child and himself would surely cause pain to his beloved and he could not bear the thought of it.
Erik's stomach roiled uncomfortably as he brooded on these thoughts. While he was in no doubt of the deep sincerity of Christine's love for him, the child was an unwanted complication which he could not solve (or dispose of) easily.
Besides, he reasoned to himself miserably, it was his own fault that the boy even existed – he had forced Christine to return to the Vicomte, he had insisted that she marry him… Erik hissed angrily to himself, disgusted by his own stupidity. Ultimately, putting up with the Vicomte's child was now his penance for his own deplorable behaviour, a constant reminder of his foolish decision to make Christine leave.
Now he must find some way to tolerate the child and ensure the boy would not actively dislike or fear him. Christine had seemed so confident that this meeting would go well, but Erik did not share her optimism. He thought back to his brief encounter with Charles in the de Chagny garden… he had seemed a pleasant enough child, interested in music of course… and he had loved the puppets... Well, if necessary, Erik could enchant the boy with magic, with ventriloquism, with music. As long as Erik's disgusting face remained hidden there was no reason why Charles should not find him amusing company, hopefully that would be enough to satisfy Christine.
~xXx~
Even though she had been listening for it, the light tap upon the French doors made Christine's heart leap and flutter; with trembling fingers she released the catch to let Erik in. It was early - barely eight am. Christine had arranged for Emilie the housemaid to run errands in town first thing so that there would be no one in the main part of the house to notice Erik arrive or leave, allowing him the freedom to come and go discreetly from the back of the house.
Sensing his apprehension, Christine reached up to kiss Erik, gently stroking his unmasked cheek. They were both a little anxious about this meeting, for their own reasons. With an elegant flourish Erik produced a single red rose for Christine, she smiled delightedly as she accepted his gift.
"Thank you, my Angel. We have perhaps an hour before Phillipe is due to arrive, the interviews will begin at half past nine. Come through to the music room and I will fetch Charles."
By the time Christine returned with her son, Erik was already playing a soft melody on the piano, his long fingers flowing gracefully across the keys. The gentle notes created a sense of calm that she suspected he did not feel. Charles' face lit up as soon as he heard the music. Instinctively he moved towards the piano till he could place his hand upon it, gazing up at the profile of the man who was coaxing such beautiful sounds from his beloved instrument. When the music stopped, Christine spoke.
"Charles, I would like you to meet Monsieur Destler. Monsieur Destler, may I introduce my son, Charles."
Charles looked up at Erik in awe. "You play even better than Mama!" He said excitedly, before remembering his manners and offering his tiny hand to him.
"High praise indeed." Erik smiled crookedly, recognising the compliment. Hesitating for only a moment, he turned to face the boy; solemnly he shook the proffered hand, then swiftly turned his long fingers in mid-air to suddenly grasp an origami bird from nowhere, presenting it to the child who gasped in delight.
Charles looked at Erik in admiration. He did not comment on his mask as it was quite obvious to the boy that anyone who could play like that and pull things out of thin air was clearly a magician, and everyone knows that magicians have the right to wear masks and velvet capes whenever they like. Perhaps Monsieur Destler kept his velvet cape at home and only used it for theatre performances.
"Charles, perhaps you would like to play something for Monsieur Destler now?" Christine suggested. The boy eagerly agreed, clambering up to the piano as Erik vacated the stool.
Charles began with a relatively simple tune which he performed flawlessly, before moving on to a more complex melody, the boy's small fingers travelling deftly across the keyboard with remarkable speed and precision. His natural ability was startlingly apparent. As he played the small boy seemed to flow with the music.
Christine stole a glance at Erik, who was watching the boy intently.
When Charles came to the end of the piece Erik quietly asked, "How long have you been playing the piano, Charles?"
The child shrugged. "Oh, ages. Ever since we got the music room key."
Erik nodded, having guessed as much from his conversation with the boy on his birthday. "So, you have been learning to play this instrument for a matter of months." He looked briefly to Christine who nodded her assent. "May I sit with you Charles? Perhaps we can look at that last piece of music together. Will you play the first section of it again?"
They spent some time working through the music, Erik quietly making little corrections or asking him to try different things as he played. Charles was more than happy to oblige, applying himself diligently to each suggestion.
"Do you sing, Charles?" Erik asked.
The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. "I love singing. Mama does too. Mama says my voice is an instrument. She says it is my gift from her Angel of Music."
Erik smiled in agreement. "Your mother is quite correct - the voice is indeed an instrument and I would very much like to hear yours. Would you sing for me?" Erik shot a glance back to Christine, who watched keenly. She knew that Erik would not be disappointed by what he heard.
Charles stood by the piano and after warming up he sang 'Amazing Grace' unaccompanied. Erik was transfixed, as Christine had expected. Charles had a truly beautiful voice: clear as a bell, impossibly pure and sweet; There was an almost hypnotic quality to it. Erik leaned forward, his eyes bright. Then Charles and Christine sang a duet, their voices mingling together in harmony.
As they sang to him, Erik held Christine's gaze for a while before returning his attention to Charles, taking in his slight frame and serious expression, his dark hair and perfect features. The boy did look a little like Christine, but there was something else there, something so familiar to him: that instinct, that passion for music. Yes, Christine had been quite right to think he should tutor the boy. Charles clearly possessed prodigious talent both as a pianist and a singer, such tremendous potential... Erik would not permit anyone else to instruct the child.
The time passed rapidly. All too soon Christine ushered an unwilling Charles off to his room to smarten up in preparation for his Uncle's arrival. Erik donned his cloak and hat promptly, keen to ensure he was gone long before Phillipe arrived. He had much to do today. As he was about to leave, Christine took his arm.
"Charles has been thrilled to meet you, he is normally so shy! My Angel, there is something we need to-"
Before she could say any more Erik pulled her close to him and kissed her sensuously, his mouth firm against hers, savouring her softness and warmth. Her words dissolved as she lost herself to his touch. For a few brief moments there was only them: the sweet joy of their mingled breaths; the feel of their bodies pressed close together; the sense of belonging that came only in each others' arms. As they drew apart she looked into his eyes and saw his earlier anxiety had been replaced by excitement.
"I hope the interviews will not be too tedious, Christine," he purred. "You have no need to worry, my dear. I can assure you that Charles will have an excellent tutor." With an amused smirk and a bow Erik swiftly made his exit.
~xXx~
A number of gentlemen had applied for the position as music tutor for the young Vicomte de Chagny, six of whom were interviewed that morning. Phillipe spoke at length to each one, then Charles met the prospective teachers and played piano for them, which certainly halted the conversations for a while. Comte Phillipe was very pleased with the calibre of the final round of interviewees he had selected, having previously weeded out all the young, attractive ones. By midday he felt confident in his choice of teacher for his young nephew.
"I believe that Monsieur Deveraux is exactly what we are looking for. He has excellent references; specialises in teaching piano; has experience with tutoring bright children and - what did he say? 'vocal coaching', was it, Christine? Yes. I think he will do an admirable job." Phillipe looked across at Christine with his eyebrows raised, waiting for her to agree.
"He certainly seems very competent, but he is rather… old, Phillipe, do you think he will be lively enough to keep up with Charles?"
"Well, he is here to give the boy music lessons not to race him around the garden, so I should think his age will be of no consequence, other than the obvious wealth experience he brings with his advanced years." Phillipe retorted, as he sorted through the paperwork spread across the desk before him, pulling forward Monsieur Deveraux's extensive references. "I suggest we should engage him immediately, before he finds himself another position."
Christine pursed her lips, muttering under her breath. "Yes, we should certainly waste no time as Monsieur Deveraux has very little to spare I should imagine…" Speaking a little louder she asked, "Are you sure, though, that Monsieur Jourdain would not be worth consideration? He seems a very capable fellow, and perhaps a little more up to date with modern music?"
"Hmm. I thought you favoured Jourdain. He was well qualified but there was something… odd about him. Rather too smooth-tongued for my liking. Also, he is a bachelor which goes against him. Deveraux was definitely the best candidate."
"Well… if you think so I am sure you are right, Phillipe." Christine replied in a resigned tone.
Phillipe smiled with satisfaction. "I told all the gentlemen that the tutoring was to be for three lessons a week, the days and times to be arranged as mutually convenient. If Monsieur Deveraux accepts the position I will ask him to call on you tomorrow afternoon to arrange matters, if that will be agreeable? I realise he might not have been your first choice Christine, but I do feel sure he will be the right man for the role. I trust that you will be able to organise matters from here onwards, but of course do contact me should you need any further help or assistance. Perhaps I can call on you and Charles in a few weeks' time to hear how you are getting along with Monsieur Deveraux?"
So what has Erik been up to? Any guesses? :)