Chapter XV.
When she opened her eyes she was placed on a couch under a window. She was still at the Opera and the face that looked at her was, without doubt, his. He knelt beside the sofa, examining Christine with worry and to the sight of her opened eyes, he looked a lot more relieved. It was indeed Raoul de Chagny- but instead of the young and almost girlish features, it was the face of a grown – up man. He still had his small mustache, but there were some gray in his blonde hair and his clear blue eyes reflected a special melancholy. He had wrinkles on his forehead. To be honest, he started to look very much like his brother, Philippe. He was still very handsome, only looked way more mature. It was strange to see what a few years difference meant to him – he was actually the same age as Christine – right now, 28, even though, he looked at least 40.
- I am sorry I scared you, Christine. – He said on a soft and concerned tone. – I only wanted to congratulate you as your acting touched my heart- just as it did years ago.
He gave a little sad smile.
Christine didn't exactly know what to reply or how to react to Raoul's words. She found it a better idea if she sits up on that couch, as people, especially Erik, might misunderstand the situation they were in – and God save everyone from Erik's jealousy fits and tantrums! Raoul, surprisingly, understood the intentions behind Christine's reaction, so he stood up as well, but did not leave.
- Are you feeling better? – He inquired.
- Yes, I do… Raoul. – She hesitated a bit before calling M. de Chagny as "Raoul", but in the end, she chose to stay with the given name, as they never called each other by any other names than "Raoul" and "Christine".
- That is good to hear. I was worried I scared you too much. To tell the truth I did not dream to find you here again. May I ask… what has happened to you in these past years?
- Well, I am with a husband and a child. And just this year I started singing again. – She admitted softly.
- Did you finally get married?
- Yes. – She nodded.
- And… do you have a son or a daughter?
- A daughter.
- She must be as beautiful as you are. – He tried to compliment her, but to his surprise, Christine did not accept it. She turned her head away, for a second, and it looked like she wiped her eyes with her glove.
- Christine… - Raoul sat down next to her on the couch to give her some comfort as he thought she was still under the influence of their nasty fight so many years ago. – I am sorry for the way I acted that night. I know I had hurt your feelings. I was a foolish young man… madly in love with you, and I didn't realize that I hurt the only person I loved the most.
- Raoul, please…
- Are you able to forgive my rudeness?
- Yes. – She nodded. – I forgave and forgot it many years ago. – She admitted.
Suddenly, the Persian arrived near them, and as he saw young de Chagny, he nearly fainted as well. He did not know anything of the young man since Erik told him about the happenings after they escaped from the Torture Chamber. He thought him dead, or at least, that he moved to a very far end of the world. He hurried to them, and exclaimed in a mixture of astonishment and happiness:
- Monsieur Chagny! What a surprise!
- Oh! – Raoul turned to the Daroga and stood up, way slower than his age should indicate it. – My good old friend! I will never forget the favor you once did me. – He smiled at him.
The Daroga offered his right for a handshake, but Raoul lowered his head in embarrassment. Only then both Christine and the Daroga noticed the strange way he held his right arm. He hid his hand either behind his back, or the way Napoleon Bonaparte used to do it on the paintings – under his cloak.
- I am sorry, Monsieur. – He said quietly. – I can't accept or offer handshakes any more.
He slowly showed his right hand to both of them. On his right hand, there were 3 fingers missing. He only had a thumb and a pinkie left on it. They stared at him for some seconds, speechless, when a familiar bass-baritone male voice interrupted the silence.
- Are they frozen off? – They all turned to see Erik standing behind them, holding a half- asleep Mahtab in his left arm.
- I recognize that voice… - Raoul said softly, and turned to face the quite normal looking man with a child, but the obvious fake mask couldn't deceive his ears. It was indeed Erik, the monster. - You? – Raoul gasped. – You are supposed to be…
- Dead? – He retorted. – So are you, Monsieur. I, thankfully haven't heard of you in a while.
- How come… you are still alive, monster?
- And how come you turned out as a lobster? – Erik chuckled.
- ERIK! – Christine exclaimed in dismay.
- Yes, my dear? – He asked sarcastically, on a flirty and too sweet to be honest coo, clearly not wanting to take a hint.
- Yes, they are frozen off! – Raoul pointed at Erik with his remaining thumb.
- Did you… travel to the Pole, Raoul? – Christine asked with compassion.
- I did. – He nodded. – Without you… I thought it was the only way to spend my life… as my brother wanted me to...
- How very sad… - Erik shook his head and he gave a faked lamentable tone to his voice to sound even more sarcastic. – If you are finished with the second act of the Opera after the Opera, my dear, would you mind joining your Erik outside? I am afraid Mahtab should be in bed by now. – He stretched out his right hand, very much visibly moving each and every finger of his, then turned away and left. So did the Daroga, after excusing himself shortly.
- Is that monster… you HUSBAND? – Raoul gasped as Erik was out of hearing range. – Did you marry him?
- Raoul, please… we can't change the past… and nor can we change the present. Yes, Erik is my husband, the father of my only child. And I love him.
- Why did you marry him, Christine? – Raoul asked a bit calmer.
- Because I wanted to.
- No, you did not. – He shook his head. – You wanted me to rescue you from him, you wanted to flee away. We were about to move to Sweden…
- I know. – She lowered her head. – Raoul, please, don't bother the past. I am glad that I saw you again, but I am Erik's wife. And I have to go now.
- Will I see you again… ever? Am I allowed to congratulate you?
- I think it would be the best if we just… met the least possible. I have no hard feelings for you in my heart, my friend. But you know how we said good bye to each other, and that we cannot be lovers any more. Nothing but friends, Raoul. Do you promise me?
- I do, but please promise we won't part forever.
The woman nodded shortly and wiped out two drops of tears from her eyes and left for the main entrance to join Erik and her daughter outside to go home. She was afraid in advance of the night she has to spend with Erik, after he met Raoul and is sure in a bad mood. Maybe she should leave him alone to compose or play his anger and jealousy out as he usually does.
The Daroga grabbed Erik's arm when they stood outside, waiting for Christine, and the ex- Opera Ghost wanted to gesture to a cab.
- Erik, that was uncalled for! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?
- What exactly is Erik supposed to be ashamed of?
- I tell you! After nearly killing that boy, you separate him from his lover and you even make fun of him now!
- It serves him right, the little pest. At least Erik has all his fingers still. He, the miserable creature should not take any piano lessons though.
- You can be such a disgusting monster still!
- Did you honestly think that Erik will be nice to his arch enemy?
- Erik, what is the point anymore? Christine is your wife, there is no need to treat Monsieur Chagny this way.
- They were flirting.
- Flirting? Erik, they barely talked a few sentences.
- Christine is Erik's. And he won't let that handsome sailor take her from him again.
- With this behavior, you are actually working on it, Erik.
- No, because Christine knows well that she is now Erik's. Forever. Our love has been sealed both in front of God and Man. And we have something that links us together forever. – He pointed at Mahtab, who laid her head against his shoulder, sleeping heavily.
- I would like to go home on foot rather than being in the same cab with you tonight, you… Ei-riek.
- I already taught you to pronounce Erik's name properly, Persian BOOBY! – He showed his friend an unacceptable hand gesture for pronouncing his name that idiotic way again, then the Daroga left with a loud groan.
- Pitiful creature, jealous stubborn ass. – He murmured, half audibly, but was surprised to hear a soft whisper in his right ear.
- Great Persian booby.
When Christine showed up next to Erik and a cab also stopped, Erik opened the cab door for Christine, and gestured her to get in. He acted like a gentleman. Christine was surprised as she expected Erik either to burst out in a jealousy fit or say nothing at all, trying to blackmail her with silence, as he did before, but nothing similar has happened. Erik politely asked her about how she was and how her voice was feeling. They were chatting through the way home and Erik did not seem to be angry or jealous at all.
When they arrived home and Erik took Mahtab to bed, he instantly joined Christine with a bottle of Tokay wine and two glasses in the drawing room.
- Here is your little husband. – He placed one of the glasses in front of Christine and poured her a glassful of the great, fiery yet sweetly romantic liquid. She smiled and took a small sip of it while Erik took a seat next to her on the sofa.
- You are in a good mood. – She remarked carefully, examining Erik's facial expression. Erik did not seem to be irritated and simply answered he was, as he had a good evening, listening to his little wife singing beautifully, and that is all he wants or needs in life.
- Was Mahtab asking a ton of questions?
- Not during the performance, thank God. – He laughed shortly. – She was a good girl, to Erik's surprise. But after the opera ended he could not even answer all of her questions yet when she fell asleep in his arms.
- She wants to know everything. – Christine smiled.
- And talks a lot, just like her mother.
- You can talk much as well, if you want to! – Christine teasingly poked her husband's arm, to make Erik grin.
- Erik can't deny it, but you were the one who made him get back to talking. He rarely talked to anyone before he met you. You make Erik's life complete. He is only a living breathing man since he saw his Christine for the first time. Until that he was only a living dead, sleeping in a coffin, in his grave, waiting for physical death save him from his suffering. But now I am happy I did not die, as you are here with me. I love you, Christine.
- I love you too, Erik. – She smiled, surprised of this honest and sudden confession of love Erik made.
She hugged Erik and lay her head on his shoulder. Erik cuddled her as well and they sat like that for a long time, enjoying each other's company. Christine was so surprised about Erik's behavior, the lack of rage and accusation, but deep down in her heart, she was thankful and happy about it. Even stranger it was, as Erik wasn't that much of a cuddly man, to begin with. He appreciated kisses, especially on his forehead, and he loved if she caressed or massaged his shoulder, back, or he liked holding hands, but he wasn't too fond of cuddling on the sofa for hours, as he wasn't used to it, and he always felt a special uncomfortable feeling while it lasted, and to tell the truth, it made him lose precious time from doing something way more productive. Christine sometimes jokingly scolded him for "not letting her love him properly", and at that very moment, he wanted to show his Christine he was there to be loved on – forever.
They might have fallen asleep in each other's arms as when Christine opened her eyes she was still hugged by her husband, and they were sitting on the sofa. Erik completely lay back, placing his skull- head against the back of the divan, and Christine's head was resting on Erik's chest. She could hear his measured breathing, and heartbeat, and it made her so relaxed. She wanted to drift away again, in this peaceful union, but she suddenly had a better idea and slowly and unnoticed, slipped out of Erik's embrace.
She wanted to prepare breakfast for her husband in return of him being so kind and understanding to her contrary the fact that even mentioning the name of Raoul de Chagny sent him into a jealousy fit other times, and now that he saw Raoul, he did not even remark it in their little nest of family love.
As she was preparing to make toast and sunny-side up in the kitchen, she suddenly realized she HATED eggs. How can it be? She likes eggs very much, and sunny-side up was one of her favorite. But now, just the whole texture of the eggs seemed to be so very disgusting. She frowned and had to look away. They actually look like snot and she never thought of that before. Why is she getting thoughts like that, and why is she starting to feel dizzy and nauseous suddenly? She tried to take some deep breaths, but they did not help. She leaned against the counter to wait for his sickness to fade before she could continue cooking, but she eventually had to rush to the bathroom to vomit, nearly running into Erik who just woke up and walked out of the salon.
- Goodness… Christine! – He gasped in shock, noticing his wife's greenish complexion as she emerged from the bathroom.
- It is all right Erik. – She gave a faint smile as blood started getting back into her cheeks.
- Are you ill?
- I don't think so. – She shrugged. – Don't worry about it, Erik, dear. I was just about to make breakfast…
- No – no- no. – He stopped Christine mid- step and gently made her sit down to a chair. – Christine should just rest until she feels better and Erik will make breakfast if Christine is hungry at all.
- Well… yes, I am, I just…
- Don't worry my dear, Erik is taking care of everything and makes sure that Doctor Bonsanté is checking on your well- being.
- No, Erik, I really am feeling better, and I don't think I need a doctor just because I vomited once.
- Erik doesn't like if his wife is sick, and each and every stomach problem has its case, they just don't appear for no reason. Please let Erik be sure you are all right and healthy. Will you?
- Well, if it makes you calm, then I let you fetch the doctor for me Erik, but only tomorrow as I will have to leave for the opera early today, we are rehearsing Othello.
- I agree but promise you will let Erik know if it gets worse by then and that you are not leaving for rehearsal if you feel worse.
- I promise. – She agreed.
Christine seemed to be fine when she left for the Opera, but the next morning found her in a bad shape again. She had heartburn and nausea, and she felt very weak and sleepy. Erik was hardly able to wake her up and she only moaned:
- Just five more minutes, Erik, please… - then falling asleep again.
Erik got terrified that Christine was very ill, but he tried not to show it to Mahtab as he did not want to scare the girl. He decided to take Mahtab to the Persian's apartment and ask him to babysit her for the time he fetches the doctor for Christine.
- Papa, what is a lobster? – Mahtab asked with a sudden interest as they were walking on the streets.
- It is an animal, a type of sea creature, I will show a picture of it to you after we arrive home.
- Why did you call the man with the strange hand that?
- Because he has a hand that looks like a lobster's claw. But you shall not call him that if we see him again.
- Why?
- Because you should act more polite than Papa does.
- And what is a Booby?
- Mahtab, Papa is going to wash your little mouth out with soap if you talk like this.
- But you told Tonton Mohammed that he was a booby.
- I did because I was angry with him.
- And if I am angry with someone I have to call them a booby? – She asked with an innocent look on her face.
- No. You should never call someone a booby, the end.
- And why Mama calls you Erik?
- You know it is my name, that's why.
- But your name is Papa.
- No, you call me Papa, as I am your father, but my name is Erik. Just as yours is Mahtab. Tonton Mohammed calls me Erik as well, didn't you notice it yet?
- Papa, is Tonton Mohammed a relative of Othello?
- No.
- But they are both dark.
- Mahtab, when you were a baby, I prayed to the Lord that you will learn to talk so I can understand what you want of me. But since you learned to talk, I sometimes pray for five minutes of silence. – Erik sighed, lifting up the girl as she started walking slower as she was getting tired.
- Why? – She asked.
- It doesn't matter, Mahtab, Papa is just joking. – He smiled and gently kissed Mahtab's forehead that was out of the veil that covered her face. She laughed and patted Erik's shoulder.
Even though Erik was worried about Christine's health, he was comforted by his daughter and this time he was happy about the girl's chit-chat as it did not let him drift into his worry and dark thoughts. He was not alone in trouble, even if his companion was a talkative 3 year- old. He also learned an important lesson about Mahtab's questions earlier – he has to watch his mouth in front of her as she tends to learn everything by first hearing, and will most likely use the new words in the most awkward situations. She can even hear him while she is asleep. Better not to teach her the repertoire of the profanities he knows…
As they reached the Daroga's front door, Erik pressed the doorbell and whispered to Mahtab
- Be a good girl and say hello politely, as I taught you.
As the servant opened the door and Mahtab's different colored eyes met Darius, she exclaimed happily:
- Hello, Monsieur Booby, where is Tonton Mohammed?
Darius sent a glare of displeasure towards the "strange masked man" as he always called Erik to the Daroga, and guided them to the hall to sit while he is informing the Daroga about their visit.
- What did Papa just ask of you, Mahtab? – Erik scolded the girl who looked up at him with confused eyes.
- To say hello?
- Yes, and to be polite and never to call anyone by that word again. If I hear it again, I swear I will spank you for it.
- What you do?
- Spank! You will understand when you get your first one, I guarantee that.
The Daroga stepped to the hall to see Erik threateningly shaking his index finger at Mahtab. He did not remark it, as he thought he was no one to question Erik's way of disciplining the child, unless it contained physical harm, but he never hit Mahtab in front of him yet.
- Hello, Erik. – He said, a bit of coldly, to remind him that his behavior at the Opera wasn't yet forgiven.
- Hello, Mohammed. – He rose from the chair, placing Mahtab on the floor and gently pushing her shoulder. – Did you say hello yet?
- Hello Tonton! – She exclaimed cheerfully and took a few steps closer to the Persian. He bent down to her to greet the minion, and gently patted her head then turned to Erik.
- Come in.
- I am sorry, I wouldn't want to lose much time, I am in hurry. – He sputtered nervously. – I would just ask you to keep an eye at Mahtab until I return to pick her up… will you please?
- What is wrong? – He asked with concern as he noticed Erik's state of mind.
- Christine isn't feeling well, and I am scared… Daroga… that it is something serious.
- Oh, Allah. – He lifted a hand in front of his lips. – Don't worry about Mahtab, Erik, we will be fine here until you are back. And please tell me if I can help.
- Thank you, Daroga… and… thank you for helping me… regardless of what I said… - He lowered his head in shame.
- Don't worry about it Erik. You are forgiven. – He smiled and softly, that only Erik was able to hear it, he added: - You great booby.
Erik laughed shyly, then quickly left, forgetting about even to kiss Mahtab and say bye-bye to her. He was too nervous to think at that time, and just ran to the doctor's office before it was too late.
He was pacing back and forth in the hall, carefully listening to every little noise Christine might give during the doctor's visit. Sometimes he stopped, swinging from tip toes to heels, and when he finally got tired of that, he tried to entertain himself with various other types of stimming and fidgeting. There was silence. He did not know if it was a good or a bad sign, Christine looked so pale when he was finally able to return with the doctor.
After some time that seemed like an eternity to Erik, the bedroom door finally opened, and Doctor Bonsanté emerged from the room with his bag.
- Is it very serious? – Erik ran to him nervously biting his lips.
- Well, your wife should take good care of herself, and rest a lot.
- I will make sure she does.
- She will have rough days, and will need your help.
- I am here to make her feel better…
- I know.
- How long it is going to take?
- Just a few weeks, but if there are complications, she might need your assistance longer. Don't worry Erik, everything is as it should be, and as God and nature wants it to be.
Erik calmed down a bit, shook the doctor's hand and accompanied him to the front door, then rushed to the bedroom to see how Christine was.
- My dear. – He sighed in relief when he saw Christine sitting in bed, smiling widely.
- Oh, Erik! Only five months! – She giggled.
- Five months… of what? – He asked, alarmed a lot.
- Only five months left. – Christine stated, not knowing why Erik is turning pale.
- Five….? Oh, Christine… my sweet, sweet girl… Is it REALLY that serious…?
- What? – She laughed. – Do you think I am going to die?
- No? – He lifted his head, half relieved.
- Of course, not. I am going to give birth.
- WHAT? – Erik whimpered on a high – pitched tone, falling to his knees and dragging himself to the bed on his knees.
- We are expecting, Erik. – She patted the man's shoulders who started sobbing in the sheets.
- Erik is so… so… sorry! – His muffled voice gave out so much pain in the heart that Christine just understood Erik wasn't that happy about the news as she was.
- Sorry? Erik, don't be! I am happy about it!
- Are you? – He lifted his head, his pale, and skull – like face was soaked in tears.
- I am. – She reassured.
- What if… - Erik did not dare, and could not continue the question, but Christine knew what he wanted to ask.
- I will love it just as I do Mahtab. Erik, everything is going to be fine. Don't worry. Please, be happy for us.
- I… I am. – He lay his head on Christine's lap as she stroke his hair.
Not much time after the Daroga taught some Persian folk songs to Mahtab and the small girl cheerfully clapped in front of him on the rug, and the Daroga offered her some chocolate to eat, Darius tucked his head in the half- open door and announced Monsieur Spöke.
- Guide him in. – The Daroga said, and rose, to be prepared for a bad news about Christine's health, and silenced Mahtab for a few minutes.
She obeyingly sat down in the corner with Olympia, but as her Papa slowly walked in the room and collapsed in an armchair, she couldn't help but run to greet Papa and climb up on his lap.
- Papa, Papa, I missed you! – She hugged Erik's neck but he was clearly not in the mood for that, only passively let his daughter love on him.
- Give me something to drink, Daroga. – He moaned.
- Would you like a glass of wine? – Mohammed asked with compassion.
- No, something stronger.
- As you wish… absinthe?
- It doesn't matter unless it knocks me out.
- There must be a problem. – He poured and handed Erik a glass of the green liquor and watched with astonishment as he drinks that in one gulp. - Erik, for Allah's beard… what has happened…?
- I am going to be a father… in five months, Daroga.
The Persian raised his eyes and fixed them on the ceiling, as he was waiting for a sign of Allah to calm him, then looked back at the emotionally exhausted ex- Phantom, being constantly nagged by his hyperactive daughter, and only those words left his lips:
- Allah above! Again…?
Erik only gave a faint nod to the question, then his head knocked back to hit against the back – rest of the armchair and his eyes closed with a last spark of yellow.
