Erik followed his post-rehersals routine religiously; first he would check on Meg to monitor how much time she was spending with André, change into something more opaque, and then he would secrete himself in the small park opposite the de Chagny household.

He continued to see Christine and provide her with his songs, but didn't broach the subject of her role again. He knew the managers and the Vicomte would be feeling the pressure of an absentee lead, and that eventually this would make his plan run a bit smoother.

Erik's origional plan had been to torment the Doweger Comtess by moving her belongings and use ventriloquism to whisper in her ear at night - basically making her believe she was going mad. This was going well; it wasn't difficult to bribe the lowest servants to provide information on their employers; in fact the scullery maid and the porter had losened their tounges for much less than Erik was willing to pay. He learnt what had transpired between Doweger and the upper chamber maid, and of the Vicomte's intervention.

When the pair spoke of the the admiration they held for their employer Erik felt slightly nauseous; he couldnt comprehend why people liked de Chagny as much as they did. It was when they mentioned Christine's reaction he felt the growingly familiar pang of guilt. Apparently the Vicomtess had cried with thanks following her hushusb's actions, as she had feared what would have become of the woman had she been turned out onto the street.

Erik had never considered any by-products of his plan, his only focus had been his end goal. He didn't want to cause Christine any pain, that was the last thing he wanted, instead his end goal was very much the opposite: to make her happy. He knew she would be happy at his side, singing and performing his work. Afterall, she had admitted his music permintated her soul and she hadn't denied that her voice and his music were forever intertwined. He knew he needed to make it up for her.

Once the house was still Erik scaled the wall and made his way into Christine's room. Once again she had left the large sash window on the latch, making it easy for Erik to enter her room. He was pleased she hadnt heeded his warning, firstly because it made his enterence easier, but more importantly because it suggested that she wanted him to visit.

Erik knew that his angel would not appreciate the gift of a single red rose, not because she didn't like them, but because it would spark suspicions if the Vicomte saw it. So instead he left a small tin containing a slice of primsesstårta on her dressing table.

He glanced behind to check Christine was still sleeping and his hand hovered above the Vicomtess' jewellery box. He didn't have many of Christine's processions, and he wondered whether she would miss a small trinket. As he went to open it Meg's words reminding him that Erik Destler was not the same man as the Phantom came to his mind, and he briefly considered what she would say if she knew about his actions. These were quickly dismissed as he was currently the Phantom and not Erik Destler.

Seeing that his angel was still sleeping Erik's actions mirrored that of Roauls months earlier. He opened her dresser drawers and jewellery box inspecting the contents. When he found his letters neatly folded and tied with a red ribbon he felt his heart skip a beat; not only had she kept them, she was treating them as though they were something precious. He felt foolish for having questiomed her feelings towards him: this showed she loved him.

--xxx--

Christine woke early as her curtains had become partially open the night, allowing the morning sun to stream through her window. After stretching and clearing the sleep from her eyes she sat and dug her bare toes into the soft rug at the side of her bed, reminding her of the same sensation she had felt having woken in Erik's domain. She tried not to think of Erik when she wasn't in his company, but with every passing day that the Doweger remained in her home and Raoul became more distant, she found her thoughts drifting to Erik much more often. She hadn't reconciled her feelings for her tutor, but his ever looming presence made their bond feel stronger.

It was still early and her lady's maid would still be a little while, so Christine decided she would start removing her ribbon curls. As soon as she looked towards her dresser he noticed Erik's gift. She smiled seeing its contents, but quickly placed it in one of her drawers. The last thing she needed was her maid to see it and for there to be gossip below the stairs.

The Vicomtess looked out of the window and stared at the street and park below. She had left the window open as an invite to her former tutor, hoping he still sought her outside of their secret lessons. It was forward, much more forward than she had ever been, but she justified her behaviour by knowing it wasn't an invite to engage in a tryst, rather more meaningful conversations. She scanned the street below and she was certain she saw a dark silhouettein the small communal park, lingering behind the trees. She strained her eyes in an attempt to see, but became distracted by the sound of the milkers horse bucklingbucklingss bottles shattering on the cobblestone road.

Loud voices arose as the milkman came and pulled his charge from the cart, almost forcing the boy to his knees in the process. The elder man shouted that the boy's wages would be docked to cover his losses and Christine felt sorry fornthe boy: he could hardly be held soley responsible for the horse's actions and without his wages the he would certainly face immediate hardship. Seeing the boy fall to his knees and plead with his employet Christine decided she would cover the costs of the spilt milk and smashed glass.

In the commotion Christine didn't notice her mother-in-law slip out of the servant's door and enter a waiting cab. But Erik did.

--xxx--

Once dressed Christine took breakfast with Raoul while the servants informed them the Doweger dined in her room. They hadn't spoken about his mother's domineering nature attemot to dismiss a member of their staff since the incident, but the couple hadn't spoke of much of consequence lately.

Christine appreciated Raoul spending more time and home and less at his club, but she was starting to wonder if he resented her for it. He hadn't visited her room in days and her maternal longing seemed stronger of late. She wouldn't be surprised if he was starting to resent her; marrying her had caused insurmountable difficulties between himself and his family, and she was certainly starting to resent his inability to fully deal with his mother's behaviour. She appreciated it must have been hard for him, but he had told her he was trying to free himself from the de Chagny Estate, but his refusal to deal with his mother seemed to be hindering this rather than helping it.

Erik hadn't asked her to sing his lead since she rejected his initial request, but she knew it would solve their problems. From what little she knew of Raoul's buisness dealings with the managers at the theatre she understood that they all believed Erik's work would bring them substantial profits, but she also knew they currently had no female lead singer. Christine knew if she sang, and her name was written on the bill alongside Erik's and Meg's, the production would surely be a roaring success and Roaul's financial worries would be no more.

"Raoul - my dear - you seem worried and preoccupied of late" she eventually commented, fully suspecting the reason for his woes being money, his mother and the theatre, "is there anything I can do to lessen your woes?"

Her husband gave a brief smile efore shaking his head, "no Lotte, I shan't burden you with my worries"

"I am your wife. It is my duty to share your burdens"

Raoul scrunched and rubbed his eyes before letting out a deep sigh, "I am an awful person Lotte" he said as he began to cry, taking a napkin in his hand to wipe his tears as his blonde hair fell to.cover his eyes, "I am pleased mother seems to be losing her mind. It means phillipe will insist she returns to France and she'll leave us be"

"You think your mother is losing her mind?", she asked quickly, immediately releasing she should've reassured him that he was not a bad person, but he had continued speaking before she had time to rectify her mistake.

"How can I not? After the incident with the chamber maid she has gotten worse, she claims things are missing and then when I go to her room and they are exactly where she says they should be. She also hears spirits at night. She says the voices torment her, preventing her from sleeping"

To aviod answering Christine took a long sip of her lemon tea and looked at her husband with pitying eyes. She knew exactly who was responsible for her mother-in-law's decline into apparent madness, and now she needed to decide what she was going to do about it: if anything.

--xxx--

Erik found it unusal that the Doweger Comtess would leave her son's home at an early hour, and even more so that she used a private cab rather than the de Chagny carriage.

Being an expert in stealtj, having been the Shah of Persia's favoured assassin , he knew it was important to look inconspicious and blend into one's surroundings. However, his current appearance was hardly that: all black clothing and a black mask, and he couldn't see any means to changed his appearance in enough time to persue the cab. The easiest method to track a cab was to comondere his own, but that required trusting another to do the deed well, which considering his current appearance and location he doubted many cab drivers would undertake something that seem unscrupulous. Instead Erik took a baker's safety bicycle that had been left against a railing, most likely while its owner delivered its wares and started following the cab at a conventional distance.

Although a strong individual, caused by his days scaling the opera house, Erik's fitness left much to be desired. He felt his legs and chest burning as he struggled for breath after a couple of miles, and he quickly found his mouth parched. He was not dressed to be riding a safety bicyle, with his cape billowing behind him, and his fedora being held place by the occasional grasp of his hand. He made a mental note to complete some equations to decipher whether his clothing was the primary cause of his difficulty, or whether it was his own fitness.

Erik was relieved when the cab stopped thus providing him with the opportunity to catch his breath. He was hunched over trying to increase his oxygen intake and settle the nausea caused by the unusal physical assertion, and almost missed the gentleman in the brown chequed suit and bowler hat who climbed into the Doweger's cab: Richard Firmin.

--xxx--

When Richard Firmin entered the cab he was surprised by the sight in front of him.

The normally poised woman looked tied, dark shadows hung under her eyes, with the powder she used to cover them only exemplifying the crows feet and bags.

"Comtess, it is a pleasure as always" he spoke trying to sound confident. He knew why he had been summoned to a meeting, he knew she was displeased and he knew his time was running out.

The Doweger clenched her hands around the lace hankerchief she qas holding,

"Do you dislike money Monsieur Firmin?" she said without looking at him. It was one of the many things about the woman that annoyed him - she was the epitimony of what people had disliked about the French nobility: arrogant and detached from reality.

"No" he answered tentatively, knowing he was about to be threatened in some form or another.

"Then tell me - why is that woman still leaching off my family?"

He shifted in his seat. "I have tried, but your son is loyal to your family name. He won't allow her to sing as long as it displeases you"

"Then find another way!" she said as she turned her head sharply to face him once again. Her eyes were stern, but blood shot, and he was certain they resembled someone who was very tired. She looked like she had aged dramatically since the last time they had met and he wondered why she looked so fatigued. She hit the roof with a staff she had placed between herself and the cabs side, and a few moments later the cab driver opened the door.

Clutching his bowler Firmin climbed out and when he turned to bow and bid her farewell, the Doweger gave him one last warning,

"You have a week Monsieur Firmin".

--xxx--

Having seen Firmin get into the Doweger's cab Erik's mind was reeling. He would need to investigate Firmin and his involvement with the Doweger Comtess, but he wasn't sure how he would find the time to do so. Since becoming a "respectable" member of society he was finding it increasingly difficult to go long periods without sleep and he was struggling to juggle his.time effectively.

He had to supervise the rehersals to prevent the incompetencies of the cast and crew from ruining his production, he needed keep and eye on Meg and her friendship with André, importantantly he had to taunt the Doweger and remain close to Christine. Now he needed to throw investigating Fermin into the mix. Then, on top of all of that Nadir and Antionette were expected to arrive in London at some point that day.

After he watched Firmin walk off into the distance and the cab leave the square Erik decided it was safe to make his way back to his own home. When he turned a corner he saw a small child attempting to sell heather to passers-by, which triggered a foggy memory from his time in the gypsy caravan. He knew exactly what notebook he would need to check, and when he had done so he would start collecting the necessary ingredients.