Chapter Seventeen:  Don't Surrender, Because You Can Win

"Are you sure that writing them a note is going to work?"  Christine asked the next morning as they prepared to journey back above.

"It has never failed before, now has it?"

"And you mean to tell them the truth?"

"Well, as much of it as is best.  Merely that you are about to marry, and that you need time off."

"And when they ask me who?  What am I supposed to tell them then?  Meg and Madame Giry are the only ones in the city other than Nadir who know that we are getting married.  Other than Raoul, they are the only ones who even know that I know you!"

Erik's eyes rose to the ceiling behind the mask.  "Have you got a better idea?  You certainly can't tell them you have a sick relation, you just used that when we left for Boscherville.  And I know that you are by no means ready to quit the Opera, you enjoy it too much.  You certainly can't tell them you're marrying the ghost."

"Well, they don't know your name, do they?"

"No, of course not!"

"Well then.  I suppose that shall have to be my answer."

"And when they ask how you met me?"

"That would be prying into a lady's affairs, Erik."

"Still?"  Erik questioned, now enjoying the role of devil's advocate.

"Erik, you are impossible!"

They both laughed, and then Erik took Christine's hand.  As their eyes met, the laughter stopped, and both expressions grew serious.

They stood that way for a moment, neither wanting the moment to end, and then it did when Erik slowly released Christine's hand.  But they both knew what had happened, both had seen the flash of a promise in the other's eyes.

@}-----,----- *~*~* -----'-----{@

Richard Firmin stalked out of the office, his annoyance obvious by his stilted gait as he went in search of his partner.

He finally found Gilles Andre in the auditorium, watching as the repetiteur practiced with members of the chorus.  He made his way into the row behind the entranced man, and tapped him on the shoulder.

Gilles jumped out of his seat, turned to see his partner, and the reprimand was quick from his lips,  "Richard, why must you sneak up on me like that?"

"We need to talk, Gilles,"  Firmin answered.  "I would suggest you come with me to the office."

"Why do I not like the sound of this?"  Andre asked ruefully as he stood and followed Firmin to the office.  Once inside, Firmin handed Andre a note, which Andre promptly read.


"Damn!"  Andre shouted as he slammed the parchment onto the desk.  "What a bloody impertinence, and just how the devil would a ghost know all this?"

"He does seem to know most things that happen here, we've already seen that Gilles,"  Firmin answered, the anxiety on his own face mirroring that of his partner.

"Just when do we expect Mademoiselle Daae here today?"

"In about an hour or so, I believe.  She asked me yesterday about the schedule, although you would think she would know she couldn't do it if she knew she was to be married that week.  And just why we were not informed of that fact, you would think the Vicomte would tell us!"

"He's young, in love, although I did hear them have an argument the other day, and his interest in the girl has been no secret, unless we're mistaken about the identity of Mademoiselle Daae's future husband.  Do you really believe the rumors that the Vicomte proposed to Daae?"

"He hasn't denied it, has he Gilles?"

"No, indeed he hasn't and we all know the scandal it's caused in the social circles, even for being a rumor.  When was the last time you talked to the young man, Richard?"

"A few days ago I believe,"  Firmin answered, calming now.  "We still have a problem.  If this note is to be believed, we are temporarily loosing our second diva, and our leader of the corps as well."

"I am well aware of that fact, Richard.  Although I am sure Madame Giry will manage to find someone to replace her daughter for a time, what are we to do?  Ever since Mademoiselle what's-her-face left us, all we have had are La Carlotta and Mademoiselle Daae.  La Carlotta will be out for quite some time, if she returns at all.  They haven't said how long it will take that leg to heal, and for all we know, she may just not be up to it again."

"So should we allow her to leave or not, Gilles?  Am I to take it you haven't a clue?"

"I thought I left that end to you, my dear fellow."

"Gilles, you at least know a top C when you hear it, remember?  We've had this conversation before, when that damn lunatic first brought Mademoiselle Daae to our attention."

Gilles placed his finger to his chin in an attempt to concentrate.  "We could well tell her that if she leaves now her career is over you know."

"And what good will that do us?  A woman in love, or even in lust, is still not going to give up her wedding day, now is she?  You yourself said that if La Carlotta had not protested as much as she did earlier, then you would have had me promote Daae a bit sooner than we did."

"Yes, I know that.  Daae has a decent enough voice, and a good voice is so hard to come by.    It still does not answer our singular problem here, and then we have the possibility that she may not wish to perform after her marriage.  Perhaps we should just have a meeting with Mademoiselle Daae when she arrives, and see where to go from there, as we're merely grasping at what ifs right now, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are,"  Firmin sighed at last.  He pulled a watch from his pocket, and continued,  "And she should be here in about half an hour.  The question is, we do still need an additional understudy now, don't we?"

"Too bad our lunatic didn't give us any ideas there, he at least seems to know music,"  Andre frowned.  "Ah well, until she comes then, I shall be watching the chorus, perhaps the answer is there."

"Very well then,"  Firmin answered as Andre made his way back out the door and down towards the auditorium.

@}-----,----- *~*~* -----'-----{@

Christine made her way to the manager's office at the appointed time with a feeling of trepidation.  She knew full and well that Erik had already left his little note for the managers, and the thought did little to quell her nerves.

She knocked lightly on the door, and nearly jumped at Firmin's booming voice calling her in from the other side of the door.  She turned the knob and entered.

Messieurs Andre and Firmin were both within the office, and Andre gestured her into a waiting seat, and then the two managers took up chairs across from her.

"Mademoiselle, we received a rather odd note this afternoon, and were wondering if you could clear up a little matter for us,"  Firmin began without preamble.

Christine cocked her eyebrow in surprise, although her voice still squeaked when she answered,  "Monsieur?"

"You neglected to mention to me yesterday when I spoke with you about taking on La Carlotta's role in her absence that you are planning a wedding."

Christine nodded as the blush rose on her cheeks.  "Yes, because I wasn't completely certain of the schedule, and did not want to turn the offer down before I could be sure I could not do it."

"Then the rumor is true?"  Andre cut in.  "You are to be marrying the Vicomte?"

Christine sighed.  She certainly knew that allowing them to think that would make the rest of this meeting go much easier, and yet she knew it was a farce that would not hold up to examination.  "No, I am not marrying the Vicomte.  We are merely childhood friends, nothing more."

Now it was Firmin's turn to raise an eyebrow,  "Then may I ask, Mademoiselle . . ."

"Who I am marrying?  A very great man, Monsieur, although not a well known one.  His name is Monsieur Laramie."

"Laramie?"  Andre repeated, trying to come up with a face to go with the name, and having no luck, turned back to the woman before him.  "Ah well, that does not matter so much, does it.  Although it does present us with a problem, Mademoiselle, in that you are the understudy for La Carlotta, and with her absent due to her injury, I am not certain we can permit you this leave of absence."

Christine sighed, the worry written on her face.  Erik's words to her this morning rang through her mind.

~~~~~

"Whatever you do, you can not show them weakness, they will pounce on it in an instant.  They are, after all, not much more than greedy, money hungry vultures.  And surely, if you can stand up to me, they will be an easy foe."

~~~~~

Then she steeled herself up for the next volley,  "I am sorry, Messieurs, that my plans cause such a problem, but I am afraid they are unbreakable."

"May I ask why you did not inform us of this sooner?"

Again, Christine sighed, and she spread her hands in supplication,  "Because even though my fiancé has been courting me for quite some time, there were certain complications, and it took a time for us to decide to marry, and once we had, we both knew we did not want to wait very long.  And when he suggested last week that we marry at Christmas, the idea was too romantic for me to resist it."

The two managers glanced between each other and nodded, both apparently satisfied with her explanation.

"We still do have a rather unique problem, and that is that we have no one on hand to replace you,"  Firmin explained.  "This really is leaving us in quite a bind.  You're absolutely certain there is no way we can convince you to stay in Paris and perform at least through Christmas Eve?"

"I'm afraid not, you see, my fiancé's family is from Rouen, and we plan to be married in his family's church.  Rouen is a good distance from here, and we still have one or two details to attend to before the ceremony, which can only be taken care of in Rouen."

Firmin grimaced as he realized his last trump card was dealt out.  He glanced toward Andre, and the younger man shrugged his shoulders.  The both looked back toward Christine, both scrutinizing the young woman before them for several moments before turning their glances back to each other.

It was Andre who broke the silence,  "So Richard, do you have any other suggestions?"

"Afraid not Gilles, except . . ."  Firmin turned back toward Christine.  "I'm sure, Mademoiselle, you've heard the rumors of the Opera Ghost."

Christine's heart raced, yet her face showed no change,  "Yes, of course I have, one can not perform in the Corps de Ballet as I did and not hear of him.  Silly superstition though, if you ask me."

The managers looked between each other once more, and Gilles once again shrugged his shoulders.  Back to Christine they turned their attention,  "Well, Mademoiselle, we have a case of an extortionist on our hands, who claims to be our ghost.  He seems to have a particular interest in you, as it was he that informed us that you could sing La Carlotta's roles some months ago, and it was he who told us of your upcoming nuptials.  Would you care to explain that?"

Christine paled slightly, albeit not noticeably,  "I wouldn't know how, Messieurs.  I don't believe in ghosts, and I would not know how to begin pretending to be one either."

"Your fiancé, perhaps then?"

"Hardly,"  Christine answered, her defenses rising.

"Mind telling us what this man does for a living, Mademoiselle Daae?"

Christine paled just a bit further, before her mind hit upon something that could not be traced back to the Opera Ghost.  "He is an inventor, Messieurs."

Andre frowned as he scrutinized the woman before him again, trying to detect any falsehoods.  "And just what does he invent?"

"All sorts of things, things I hardly understand, Messieurs.  Gadgets and gizmos to me, they are quite beyond my grasp."

The two men spared another glance to each other, and once more, Andre shrugged.  Both knew that this was getting them no where fast.

"I apologize for my partner's impertinence, Mademoiselle,"  Firmin finally broke the chains of the silence that had settled the room.  "I suppose our next question should be, how long can we expect you to be gone this time?"

Christine felt the relief run through her, yet she remained impervious in her facial expressions,  "We had discussed a honeymoon trip, and had decided on a two week tour, Messieurs."

"Then we should anticipate your return in the second week of January?"

"Yes, that is correct,"  Christine replied.

Firmin stood while Andre stared straight ahead, his eyes never leaving Christine.  Christine as well, finally stood, taking her exit cue, and before she had fully opened the door, Firmin stopped her.

"After your return, then, can we count on you to take over until La Carlotta's return?"

"Yes, of course, Monsieur Firmin,"  Christine answered, and Firmin nodded her out.

As soon as the door closed behind Christine, Andre rose from his seat, and pointed a finger at his partner,  "You mark my words, Richard, that girl knows something!"

"I would not doubt that, Gilles, but we can not prove it any more than we can prove there really is a ghost, now can we?"

Gilles hung his head for a moment before muttering,  "No, we can't."

"Well then, I would suggest you find someone in that wretched chorus to take her place then, hadn't you?  After all, we only have her for a few more days."

"Yes, yes, I know.  Damnable business this is!"  Andre shouted as he skulked out the door.

@}-----,----- *~*~* -----'-----{@

Raoul watched as Monsieur Andre burst through the door to the manager's office, and stared in bewildered wonderment as the man skulked his way down the narrow hallway toward the auditorium.  Finally though, he got over his temporary paralysis and continued to make his way down the hallway to the same office Andre had just burst forth from.

Inside he found Monsieur Firmin, sitting at the desk as he poured over paperwork.  He rapped on the doorframe, then entered without preamble.

Firmin glanced up from his papers, and a smile lighted his face as he saw his patron,  "Monsieur le Vicomte!  Do come in, and to what do I owe this delightful surprise?"

"Richard, yes, good afternoon,"  Raoul rambled with the pleasantries as he took off his overcoat and hat, and sat in the chair on the other side of the desk.  "Merely a spot check, my good man.  You promised you'd have the final figures from last month ready today."

"Ahh, yes I did, didn't I?"  Firmin answered somewhat nervously as he reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a ledger.  He handed it across to Raoul, not noticing at first the slip of paper poking out of the edge. 

Raoul took the book, and opened it to the page marked by the paper, then stopped as his eyes widened.  The book fell to his lap, and then to his feet, as he clutched at the paper and his accusing eyes met with Firmin's.

"Firmin, how did you get this?"

@}-----,----- *~*~* -----'-----{@

Author's Notes:  I am learning that the save button is my friend, even when I'm on a roll and don't want to stop!  No, I was smart this time, and here's another chapter to prove it.  I fear I left it on a bit of a cliff, but I promise there is a reason for all those management scenes.  Yes, I know you've been enjoying the Erik and Christine scenes, and I promise they will return to you again in the next chapter!  "What new surprises lie in store?????"

Deirdre:  Sorry to hear you've been having your own computer woes (I swear though, mine are my own stubborn fault!)  but I must say, if we shoot your computer and put it out of it's misery, then you won't be here to give me all those interesting reviews (and did I mention that most of them give me a good chuckle?  I find I like watching you fight with yourself!)

angelofnight:  You had BETTER write more of "Healing Old Wounds" please please PLEASE don't keep me waiting too long!

And that goes to all the others here that have fic's that are in progress that I'm reading!  Yes, I'm fic hungry, lol!

All right, I'll go, get back to writing . . . among other things!  Au revoir, mes amies!

@}-----,----- Stemwinder -----'-----{@