Christian gave the man the money. He took his ticket, then sat on a nearby
bench to wait for his train. He straightened his hat, the hat he had worn
the day he'd arrived, and pulled out the letter. He turned it over in his
fingers, his hands no longer shaking, and smiled. She had loved him. If
he never found anyone else, he would be happy the rest of his life. The
demons of the Moulin Rouge finally gone, Christian's head was clearer than
it had been since he had first arrived in Paris. A small, silent tear
worked its way down his cheek. It was a tear of happiness, knowing he
finally could move on.
He sat for a half an hour, waiting for his train, just staring at the letter in its envelope. He knew he would always remember her, and she'd be waiting for him in Heaven. A hiss and a cloud of steam signaled the train's arrival before the conductor's yell of, "All aboard!" But meanwhile, he'd live his life any way he could. He tucked the letter neatly back into his pocket, brushing his manuscript as he placed it in the pocket. He picked up his bag, and went to board his train. Just as he was climbing on, a familiar voice called from the platform.
"Christian!" Karrinne cried, running toward him. Christian stepped down off the train and walked to her.
"Christian," she gasped, out of breath. Good Lord, Christian thought, she must have run all the way from Montmarte! She was wearing a traveling dress and cloak, with a hat and bag. "Christian," she tried again, "I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye." She kissed him gently on the cheek, then smiled.
Christian glanced at her travelwear. "Are you . . ." he began, but Karrinne interrupted him. "I'm leaving on coach to Versaille this afternoon. I have relatives there that know nothing of my, ahem, exploits in the underworld of, um, 'showbusiness.' They have agreed to keep me for a time as I look for a job." She smiled broadly at him, and he smiled back.
"How did you know I was leaving?" he asked. She smiled a coy smile.
"It may have been a year since I relinquished the title, monsieur, but we skilled courtisans never loose our ability to sense what a customer will do next."
Christian smiled at her. Away from the grime of Montmarte and the Moulin Rouge, she was such a bright person. Her smile seemed to invite him to go with her to Versaille, but he knew there could be no possibilities. Besides, he didn't really want to go.
"Monsieur," the conductor said, "We can only hold the train for a few moments longer." Christian nodded. He then turned to Karrinne.
"I suppose this is goodbye, then," he said. Karrinne nodded.
"Yes, it is goodbye. But I'll never forget you."
"Nor I you."
"Monsieur?" the conductor asked.
"Just a moment," Christian said, a bit annoyed. The train started to hiss and steam again - they were preparing to leave.
"You had better go," said Karrinne.
Christian had to do one thing before he left. The last thing he'd ever do in Paris. Swiftly and tenderly, he pulled Karrinne to him, and kissed her on the mouth. He broke off, jumped onto the train, and as it was pulling off called, "Goodbye, Karrinne! I won't forget you!"
Karrinne waved and followed the train to the end of the platform, then stood and waved until she could no longer see the train. A silent tear fell down her cheek, and she touched her lower lip, Christian's kiss still lingering there. She swung her empty bag as she removed her hat and skipped off the platform, returning to her small apartment in the only home she'd ever known - Montmarte.
Well, guys, that's all. You'll be happy to know that Christian and Karrinne both live happily ever after, each in their own seperate lives. Christian never returns to Paris, and Karrinne never goes to Versailles. He also never sees his family again, and never marries. But, just as he said before he left for London, he would be happy the rest of his life, even if he never found someone else. He never even went to Satine's grave. To have this better explained, listen to "The Show Must Go On," on the second Moulin Rouge CD, and really think about the words. Then you'll understand.
*~Evanne~*
He sat for a half an hour, waiting for his train, just staring at the letter in its envelope. He knew he would always remember her, and she'd be waiting for him in Heaven. A hiss and a cloud of steam signaled the train's arrival before the conductor's yell of, "All aboard!" But meanwhile, he'd live his life any way he could. He tucked the letter neatly back into his pocket, brushing his manuscript as he placed it in the pocket. He picked up his bag, and went to board his train. Just as he was climbing on, a familiar voice called from the platform.
"Christian!" Karrinne cried, running toward him. Christian stepped down off the train and walked to her.
"Christian," she gasped, out of breath. Good Lord, Christian thought, she must have run all the way from Montmarte! She was wearing a traveling dress and cloak, with a hat and bag. "Christian," she tried again, "I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye." She kissed him gently on the cheek, then smiled.
Christian glanced at her travelwear. "Are you . . ." he began, but Karrinne interrupted him. "I'm leaving on coach to Versaille this afternoon. I have relatives there that know nothing of my, ahem, exploits in the underworld of, um, 'showbusiness.' They have agreed to keep me for a time as I look for a job." She smiled broadly at him, and he smiled back.
"How did you know I was leaving?" he asked. She smiled a coy smile.
"It may have been a year since I relinquished the title, monsieur, but we skilled courtisans never loose our ability to sense what a customer will do next."
Christian smiled at her. Away from the grime of Montmarte and the Moulin Rouge, she was such a bright person. Her smile seemed to invite him to go with her to Versaille, but he knew there could be no possibilities. Besides, he didn't really want to go.
"Monsieur," the conductor said, "We can only hold the train for a few moments longer." Christian nodded. He then turned to Karrinne.
"I suppose this is goodbye, then," he said. Karrinne nodded.
"Yes, it is goodbye. But I'll never forget you."
"Nor I you."
"Monsieur?" the conductor asked.
"Just a moment," Christian said, a bit annoyed. The train started to hiss and steam again - they were preparing to leave.
"You had better go," said Karrinne.
Christian had to do one thing before he left. The last thing he'd ever do in Paris. Swiftly and tenderly, he pulled Karrinne to him, and kissed her on the mouth. He broke off, jumped onto the train, and as it was pulling off called, "Goodbye, Karrinne! I won't forget you!"
Karrinne waved and followed the train to the end of the platform, then stood and waved until she could no longer see the train. A silent tear fell down her cheek, and she touched her lower lip, Christian's kiss still lingering there. She swung her empty bag as she removed her hat and skipped off the platform, returning to her small apartment in the only home she'd ever known - Montmarte.
Well, guys, that's all. You'll be happy to know that Christian and Karrinne both live happily ever after, each in their own seperate lives. Christian never returns to Paris, and Karrinne never goes to Versailles. He also never sees his family again, and never marries. But, just as he said before he left for London, he would be happy the rest of his life, even if he never found someone else. He never even went to Satine's grave. To have this better explained, listen to "The Show Must Go On," on the second Moulin Rouge CD, and really think about the words. Then you'll understand.
*~Evanne~*