Disclaimer: I wish that I owned any of this. Based on the Susan Kay "Phantom" universe.
This is when Erik is about 4 and Madelline goes out, leaving Marie Perrault in charge.
"I don't care what you say, Marie," Madelline snapped, tying the emerald satin ribbons from her bonnet into a full bow with a jerk. "I am going to go to Mass."
"At least take Erik with you," Marie said softly. "Or I can pass on some message to-"
"I'm going and that's that!" Madelline snorted. "It's a small enough mercy-to go and receive the Sacrament!"
"He's only four years old," Marie protested.
"He's almost five," Madelline snapped, glancing around for her gloves. There they were. She had picked out this outfit in a trip to Paris with Charles. The fresh green velvet was a demure enough color for a young bride-and now a widow of several years-and the emerald cording that scrolled around the wrists of the sleeves, the bodice and at the hem was divine. Of course, Madelline had been mad for the emerald after seeing how it brightened her golden cat's eyes. Even her hair-usually a mousy brown-livened up and appeared slightly more red when she wore the emerald bonnet and matching cloak. She had even had a special pair of gloves and some kidskin short boots dyed to match the cloak and bonnet.
Madelline glanced at her companion briefly, looking now for her white rabbit muff. Marie was twisting her hands nervously and then ostensibly smoothing her cream colored dress when her palms sweated. Mentally, Madelline sneered at her friend's nervous ticks. Madelline's mother-Nicol-had smacked her sternly (and often) with a ruler to make her stop and act composed and poised. Marie's mother had been ill most of her life and since her father was a tutor in Latin and Greek, they had barely scraped together a living on the tiny plot of land and house they had. Madelline sighed briefly-she supposed she was fortunate that her friend had any of the social graces living like that.
"It will only be for a few hours, Marie," she soothed. "Everything will be fine." She gestured towards the grandly and well appointed music room where she could see Erik's small legs swinging back and forth as he sat on the piano bench, practicing scales and chords. With a scowl, she said, "Erik has a new piece of music and he will be fine for that long. He also has his penmanship to practice, as well as other lessons."
"I still don't think it's right, leaving a child that small alone," Marie whispered. Her plain blue-grey eyes were wide with worry and she began wringing her hands again.
"Any other mother may leave for a bit of time to herself. Why shant I?" Madelline scowled again, knowing full well that the other mothers she had seen all had normal, beautiful children who didn't frighten away nannies and governesses by their mere appearance. "Fine, then you stay here with him," she replied cooly in the same tone that Nicol had always used when Madelline insisted on doing something foolish.
Marie's eyes widened for a moment and then she nodded. Her hands stilled for a moment.
Madelline stuffed her hands in her muff. "If you are going to be here then I will attend the evening Mass as well." These nights, the church was deserted during the evening Mass as people sought their homes before sundown. "There is a chicken pie in the kitchen that I purchased today for dinner, along with some fresh bread. I trust that will be an acceptable dinner?" she asked cooly, one perfectly arched brow raised just so.
"I'm sure that Erik and I will enjoy that," Marie replied lightly.
Madelline started to say that if Erik did grace the table with his presence, it was unlikely that he would eat. He rarely ate more than a few bites-just enough to keep his bony frame moving-and then would she would excuse him quickly. Not that she had much appetite either-watching his deformed face. Still, one must let those who are determined do what they must, as Nicol would always say to her. Marie would find out how stubborn Erik could be on her own. With a nod and a cool smile to Marie, she swept out into the cold February evening.
Marie closed the door and felt for her spare key, in case she needed to lock up. Years and years and years ago, it seemed, Madelline had given her a spare key to watch Sasha as she went on yet another trip to shop in Paris with her husband. Charles was a charming man who seemed to personify the word "gentleman". Despite Marie's less-than-affluent means, he had never looked down on her and was a gracious host. (He had once brought back a nice bottle of Merlot and two glasses from Paris as a gift for her for watching Sasha.) Of course, Madelline was all honey and sugar and warmth when he was around. She missed him terribly, Marie surmised. And Erik was a...unique child to cope with. It was her own frustration and grief that made her so cold, Marie decided.
The scales trickled up the keyboard in rhythmic waves at high tide. Up and back and up and back, a half-step higher each time. Marie scratched Sasha's ears and went into the kitchen. She slipped the pie into the stove to warm, assembled cheeses and some late apples from the pantry and began setting the table. The scales went up and back down soothingly and Marie swayed slightly to the music as she fiddled with glasses and silverware.
She had always wanted to dance-gracefully whirling like she had seen once. (Madelline could drift around, light as thistledown, her skirts rustling ever so softly.) Sometimes, secretly, she would dream that this was her house-her home. Not that she coveted Madeline her husband, but it was nice to set a table with real silver on a real tablecloth that wasn't patched in three places with a hole in a fourth. It was nice to be in a house with two actual stories instead of the half-story loft under the rafters-and with actual bedrooms that stood empty and waiting for guests!
Madeline smiled softly to herself and wandered through the music room, swaying to the music. Erik was concentrating on a difficult series of chords and nearly missed hearing her approach. If Sasha hadn't ambled up to the piano bench, Erik might have played on and on without noticing her. As it was, Sasha stuck her head on the piano bench with a rippling sigh and large, liquid brown eyes focused on the player.
Erik glanced down. "Hi, Sasha," he said, not missing a chord. "You know that Mama would be mad if she saw you were in here."
Marie giggled at that. Madelline had been insistent on a Golden Retriever, then squawked when Sasha first began shedding on her carpets and rugs. No, Madelline would NOT like that Sasha was on her prized blue Persian rug with her furry head resting on the needlepoint piano bench cover.
Erik whirled around and looked at her. "Mademoiselle," he said in a gravely courteous voice. "I didn't realize that you were there." He scooted off the bench and walked up to her boldly as Sasha trailed behind him.
Marie focused her gaze on the golden cat's eyes staring at her from behind the mask. She carefully ignored the mask and the slight distortion of his voice from behind it. "Erik, dear, your mother has left for a while and asked me to stay here. I'm getting ready to serve dinner, if you would please wash your hands."
Erik watched her for a few more moments and went off in the general direction of a bathroom. Marie sighed and went back into the kitchen. Pulling out the hot pie, she made two slices and scooped them onto platters. Bread, butter and the thick, brown condiment known as "rust", were set on the table, along with fruit and cheese slices. Erik and Sasha wandered in a little later. Erik climbed up onto the chair and Sasha settled by his chair in the boneless way that Golden Retrievers had.
Ignoring the unsettling appearance of the mask by pretending she was Beauty from Beauty and the Beast, she smiled and folded her hands. Bowing her head, she paused until Erik had copied her. "Dear Lord, Thank you for the gracious bounty you have vouchsafed for us. Bless this food and bless us. Forgive us our sins and save us through Jesus Christ. Amen."
"Amen," Erik echoed.
Madeline shook out her linen napkin, hearing Erik pull his plate forward. She glanced up as he shoved the carefully folded napkin aside. Raising an eyebrow (and fondly remembering her younger brother acting the same way), she said softly, "Erik, dear, please put your napkin in your lap."
Erik glanced up and then snatched up the napkin and plopped it in his lap.
Marie smiled at him. He really was a scamp-clever and quick and prone to all kinds of tricks. Just like her younger brother, Raoul. Raoul had been as full of the devil as any young boy-climbing trees and playing and bringing home puppies and toads and so on. Normal little boy tricks. Then the terrible winter when he was six he had died from pneumonia. God, she missed Raoul.
A loud clatter of silver hitting the floor awoke Marie from her reverie.
Erik glanced up at her. With a resigned smile, she picked up her napkin and set it on the table. "Erik, dear, I'll get you another fork." Glancing at his empty glass, she added, "And some water."
Marie walked into the kitchen and slid open the silverware drawer. Erik's chair scraped and she heard his footsteps. He's probably grabbing his fork she thought. Picking up the pitcher of fresh water, she walked back into the dining room and gave Erik his new fork and refilled his water.
"Thank you, mademoiselle," he said.
"You're welcome," she replied, going back to her seat.
Erik watched her expectantly and Marie felt a little flicker of unease under the unstinting golden gaze. Unfolding her napkin again, she sat down-
-and a small brown spider ran across her hand.
Marie shrieked and shook her hand. The creature flew across the room and smacked against the wall. It hit the floor with a whisper and scuttled off in a stunned, weaving way. Marie shrieked again and danced around for a moment, brushing off her skirts and the seat and the table and her dress again.
Erik giggled, watching her dance around screaming.
Marie shot a dirty look at Erik giggling. "Erik, dear, that wasn't nice."
Erik burst into giggles again.
Marie put her hands on her hips. "Erik, dear, please apologize."
Erik cracked another giggle. "Mademoiselle, I apol-...ap...apologize..." He clapped his hand over his mouth, but the giggles wouldn't be stifled.
Marie clasped her hands together and looked a bit sorrowful. "Erik, dear, I know that you are a gentleman when you want to be. If you cannot apologize properly, then I will have to send you to be with no supper."
Erik folded his napkin again and slid out of his chair, his small shoulders shaking and the cat's eyes behind his mask gleefully alight. Sasha watched the plate mournfully, then reluctantly followed him as he climbed the stairs to his room.
Marie stared for a moment at the two plates and slices of chicken pie. Truthfully, she didn't want to do that, but it was the fourth spider this fortnight. Two were hidden in her shawl and one in her bonnet and now one in her napkin. She didn't care to think where he captured all the little creatures or how he kept them until he wanted to play these pranks on her.
Perhaps after an hour or two, he would be calm enough and she would give him his dinner. Marie scooped up the plates and took them to the kitchen. She put the two plates on the counter and began tidying up the silverware. The house was silent now, almost eery.
Settling in the pristine informal parlor, Marie picked up a slim volume off of a bookshelf, she began reading waiting for an hour to pass.
Erik could only hold in his giggles until he closed his bedroom door.
"Did you SEE, Sasha? She SCREAMED so loudly!" He began to mimic Mlle. Perrault, dancing around and shaking and wringing his hands. "She is terrified of spiders and no matter how many times I trick her, she still dances around and screams." He laughed and giggled.
Sasha watched him with large brown eyes. Erik danced around her, smiling and giggling.
Exhausted finally, Erik climbed into his large bed and began the next chapter in his beloved Architectural Geometry book.
Some time later, the delicate chimes sounded the half hour melodywhen Sasha finally stood up and nudged at Erik's leg. When he didn't stir, she let out a little whine.
Erik peeked around his book. "Do you need to be let out?" Sasha walked in a little circle and whined again. Carefully marking his place, he glided over to the door. "You know," he whispered. "I wish that you could learn to use the chamber pot, too."
Sensing her master's desire for silence, Sasha followed him down the stairs leading to the front of the house. Erik opened the door and watched as she circled around behind one of the formal hedges, pause, then return to him, wagging her tail.
Erik closed the door as quietly as possible behind her.
He started up the stairs again, then paused as his stomach rumbled a little. Glancing at Sasha, he put a finger to his lips. On his tip-toes, he quietly crept around to the dining room-only to spy Marie reading and dozing in the informal parlor.
Without a word, he turned and went back to the front of the house. "She's guarding the food!" he whispered to Sasha. "But I know where we can get some."
Hidden behind some books on the top shelf of the formal receiving room bookcase, Madelline had hidden a large, red-satin covered box of chocolates. Erik was largely uninterested in the chocolates, and so the box had remained hidden and Madelline had fancied her secret indulgence was safe.
Erik perched on the precariously full third shelf of the bookcase and carefully slid the box from it's hiding place. Creeping back to Sasha, he slid open the box. Chocolates of every shade gleamed back-from a creamy pale white to a brown so dark it was almost black.
Erik wrinkled his nose. "Well, let's try this."
Picking up a particularly dark piece, he bit into it. A sweet syrup slid out and filled his mouth.
Erik wrinkled his nose. The cherry in the middle was all right, but the chocolate was bitter. Pulling out the sticky cherry, he tossed the rest to Sasha. "I wonder what anyone sees in this?"
Sasha licked her chops in reply.
Shrugging, he picked up another one. This one had a creamy maple-flavored filling. Picking another one up at random, he threw it to Sasha. The third he tried was filled with salty bits and so he shared that one.
Sasha laid down and Erik continued tossing her bits and pieces until half the box was gone. Erik carefully spaced out the rest of the candies and hid the papers away until he could burn them. Suddenly his stomach rumbled and a strange taste rose to his mouth.
Sasha's eyes went wide for a moment...
Marie heard the sound and awoke before she realized what the sound was. Starting, she dropped her book and bolted to the front of the house. The horrible wretching sound echoed through the house and finally she came into the front receiving room.
Among an assortment of bits of papers, stood Erik and Sasha on the pale carpet in front of a dark puddle. Sasha's head hung low and she whined and whimpered. Erik kicked the red box under a nearby chair and wove a bit unsteadily. His hand went up in front of his mouth and he turned away.
Marie sighed deeply. Opening the front door, she welcomed the fresh breeze and Sasha gratefully went out. Erik watched her with painful eyes.
"Erik, dear, could you please get me some old newspapers?" Marie whispered.
Erik watched her warily and fetched an old newspaper. Marie reached for the paper and Erik flinched away.
"Now, Erik, dear, could I please have the paper?"
Taking the paper, she laid one of the huge pages down on the puddle and scooped up the larger bits. With a deep breath, she dumped the papered mess in a bin. Then, she began carefully blotting up the rest.
"See? That just about does it." Marie said with a sigh of satisfaction.
Erik looked at the spot with confused eyes. The spot looked dark-but just wet rather than actually dirty. "Aren't you going to tell?"
Marie watched him as he considered the spot. "It will be our secret."
Erik looked at her with wide eyes and carefully-warily-gauged her reaction. "Do you promise?"
"I promise," she smiled.
Sealing their pact, they carefully burned all the wrappers and the newspapers in the fireplace, while eating generous slices of chicken pie and feeding bits to Sasha.