How to Be an Opera Ghost

Part Six: "Pretend"


Wednesday was much the same as Tuesday. Isabelle succeeded in frightening at least five people, and she made certain that one of them was La Ernestina; she could not possibly pass up the opportunity to have another go at the German diva, for she was so good at shrieking.

Shrieking!

All that Isabelle and her fellow ballerinas had ever done in the ghost's presence was giggle and run away. No wonder the ghost hadn't shown himself to them very often; scaring singers was far more rewarding!

Later in the day, she even worked up enough nerve to steal a costume belonging to one of the other principals. Hiding herself within hearing distance of the dressing-room in question, she listened with glee as Bernadette Garand (a particularly vicious-tempered young lady, especially for someone with only a small role) cursed first herself, then the costume mistress, and finally the ghost. The costume mistress, finally managing to calm her down, convinced her to wear a different dress just for the day. If the right one couldn't be found, well, she'd simply have to make another.

As soon as she was certain they'd vacated the room, Isabelle darted in, laid the dress across one of the tables without so much as a note, and darted back out again. She listened intently for Bernadette's return – and upon hearing the singer's half-angry and half-relieved exclamations upon finding her dress, Isabelle let out a well-rehearsed Sinister Chuckle. Bernadette stopped speaking immediately when the sound reached her ears, and Isabelle waited with bated breath for her to come outside and look for the source of the chuckle.

Come outside she did, but she gave up after only a cursory look up and down the corridor. She muttered something as she retreated back into her dressing-room, and Isabelle could have sworn she heard the word "ghost" in there somewhere.

Success.

By the time the dancers began rehearsals on Thursday, the company was alive with new gossip about the ghost. All anyone had to do was mention the word "ghost" and La Ernestina would fan herself as though she were about to faint; the more superstitious chorus members would cross themselves; and the stagehands would look surreptitiously upwards, as if waiting for something to crash down upon them.

And the ballet girls' dressing-room was more alive than it had been in weeks. Cécile Jammes, who'd been having a not-so-secret kind of secret relationship with the young soloist Laurent Mervil, informed everyone as soon as they arrived on Thursday that the ghost had been sighted again – and by Laurent himself, no less!

He'd been entirely in black, except for the white mask! He'd been up in Box Five, but by the time any of them could get upstairs to investigate, he'd disappeared! He'd cast a spell on La Ernestina that made her unable to sing for the rest of the day! (Isabelle was pleasantly surprised at this last tidbit, especially since she hadn't done anything of the sort. How easily blame was placed and rumors were spread...)

"I thought he'd gone for good," said Yvette Mercier when Cécile finished with her story.

"Me too," said Anne St. Fort with a dramatic sigh. "I wish he'd leave the company alone!"

Isabelle nodded fervently in agreement, just as the rest of them did, and even voiced her opinion on the matter: "I hope he doesn't bother any of us..."

But even as they whispered their dislike of the ghost – not too loudly, of course, lest they should be overheard – it was impossible not to catch the furtive smiles they passed to one another. Each of them knew as well as the next that this was the sort of thing they lived for.

Except perhaps Meg Giry. Isabelle couldn't help but notice that while Meg made a perfectly good show of laughing when the others laughed, and sighing when the other sighed, she did not participate in the conversation.

And this made perfect sense, didn't it? After all, Meg was presumably the only one of them who knew the truth about the ghost. His name. His deformed face. His tragic love for Christine Daaé. Was that why she looked so morose when the rest of them looked furtively excited? And was that why she frowned to herself when she thought nobody was looking?

By the end of their rehearsal that day, Isabelle knew that she had to speak to Meg about the ghost. She didn't know how she would accomplish such a thing, especially since she was not supposed to know anything more about the ghost than what the rest of the girls knew; but either way, Meg's reaction to the ghost's return was a thing that Isabelle couldn't pass up the opportunity to investigate further.