The Phantom of the Opera
Part Six
Christine slept for most of the journey. Only when the horse came to a stop did she jerk awake again.
"Erik?" she said at once, looking up. His gentle eyes looked down at her.
"I am here. I am always here…" he whispered. Christine closed her eyes, pressing her face against his shoulder.
"I thought you weren't there… I saw the candle, but then…"
"I was waiting for you. I wasn't sure if you would come, but a part of me told me that you would," he whispered into her hair.
She looked up at him again. "It's all over now? We can be together?"
"For now and always, if that is what you want."
"It is. More than anything," Christine replied softly. Erik smiled and jumped down from the horse. He held out his hand to help her down and she took it, smiling. She climbed down gracefully and looked up at the house before her. It had been grand once but now it looked empty and in need of repair.
"It will need mending soon. But for tonight it will serve its purpose," Erik said quietly.
He led Christine inside and through dark corridors to a room near the back of the house. He opened the door and went to the fire place, lighting a match and setting it to the logs until they caught. Then he went to several candles around the room, lighting them so light banished the shadows from the room. Christine stood by the door, watching in silence.
Erik finished his work and then turned to her. For a moment they merely looked at each other and Christine found herself amazed at how wonderful he looked. The flickering candlelight added to his mysteriousness, and she found that she had to be near him again. He obviously felt the same because they suddenly rushed toward each other, kissing each other desperately, as if both feared they would be torn apart again.
"I love you," Christine whispered between frantic kisses. Erik pulled back to look down at her and then smiled. She reached up and took away the mask. He flinched away but she seized his hand.
"No! Don't do that!" she said.
"Christine-"
"I'm not afraid, Erik. I don't care what you look like. You're beautiful," she said. Erik looked at her and she tossed the mask onto a table. "No more hiding. No more," she said quietly, putting her arms around his neck. He looked as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, but she kissed him again, and his doubts were washed away in a sea of love.
Their rushed kisses and embraces were suddenly interrupted by a strange noise. Both looked up and saw the kettle above the fire bubbling furiously.
Erik said, somewhat embarrassedly, "… Would you care for some tea?"
Christine looked at him blankly for a moment, and then began to giggle. Erik smiled too, unable to help it. The situation was so foolish one could do nothing but laugh at it. He went to the kettle and poured the boiling water into the teapot. Christine sat at the table, a smile plastered on her face. She watched happily as he prepared tea, setting out food.
After a while he sat down and passed her a cup of tea. He sliced some bread and spread it with butter and placed it on a plate with some chicken and cheese.
"It's not much. I haven't had time to buy food," he said apologetically.
"It's perfect," she said quietly. Erik smiled and Christine sipped the tea. It was deliciously warm and sweet.
"I think this is all I ever wanted," she said after they had eaten. They sat on a sofa near the fire. It had died some time ago but neither of them wanted to move to relight it. A few candles on the table next to them were the only light in the room. Her head was resting in his lap and his hands were running through her hair.
"This? A dilapidated house and a wanted criminal?"
"Well… the details are a little different," she laughed. She rolled over to look up at him. "But the rest is perfect. All I ever wanted when I was a child to be with someone who would love me, who I loved, and that we would be happy."
"Is that all you wanted? What about your music?" Erik asked. Christine smiled slightly.
"You are my music."
They fell into peaceful silence. Then Christine said, "It's so odd… only a few hours ago I was singing at the Opera Populaire, thinking that by this time I would be tucked away in the Viscount's estate. And instead I'm here with you."
"I hope that is a good thing."
"Of course," she whispered.
They both jumped as a roll of thunder sounded overhead. Erik went to the window and a flash of lightning illuminated him, followed by more thunder. He looked back at Christine. She stood by the candles and then bent to blow them out. The room plunged into darkness. Erik looked through the darkness, searching for her. Then her hand touched his face, stroking the skin. The only sound was the lashing of rain against the window.
"Some time ago I promised you that when you were ready I would be waiting," she said quietly. Erik looked down at her shadowed face. Another flash of lightening illuminated her features for a moment, and in that second Erik made up his mind.
He kissed her softly. She ran her hands through his hair, pressing her face to his as he kissed her hungrily. A roll of thunder sounded, but they ignored it. Christine's fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, hurrying to undo them as he put his arms around her to unlace the back of her dress. He pulled his shirt off and she paused to look up at him. He stroked her cheek.
"You are sure that this is what you want?"
"I want nothing more than you," she whispered in return, reaching up to kiss him again.
The next flash of lightening came as Erik lifted Christine in his arms and carried her to the sofa, where they undressed each other as quickly as they could. Neither of them could feel anything except each other, weren't aware of anything except the touch of the other, conscious of anything besides the excitement that both of them felt.
Outside, the storm continued to rage on.
She slept peacefully in his arms. Erik couldn't believe it, even though her warm weight pressed against him, her long hair lay across him, tickling his skin slightly, her breath warm on his cold flesh. He swallowed hard and looked down at her, praying to whatever god there was that this was not a dream and she would not soon fade away.
She stirred slightly and looked up at him through bright, sleepy eyes. "Why don't you sleep?" she asked.
"I wanted to make sure you would still be here," he admitted. Christine laughed quietly and gently pinched the skin of his arm.
"See? I'm here. I'm not going to leave. You can sleep."
Comforted by the sharp stinging in his arm, Erik finally closed his eyes, letting sleep wash over him.
"I have a slight problem," Christine said as they ate breakfast the next day. Erik looked up sharply, watching her through the eye of his mask.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing serious… it's just that… well, all my things were sent on ahead to the Viscount's estate. I don't have any clothes or anything…" she said, slightly embarrassed. Erik smiled.
"Do not worry. There is a village not too far from here. We can have some clothes made for you today."
Christine smiled and looked around the room.
"Where did you find this place, Erik?"
"The owner was quite desperate to sell. Apparently it's haunted," Erik said lightly. Christine laughed.
"You are serious? You bought a haunted house?"
"Ironic, isn't it? The Phantom of the Opera buying a haunted house."
"Well, you certainly know a bargain when you see one. I'm sure we'll manage a ghost or two," she said as she smiled. Erik smiled too.
Christine asked, "What happened that night? When you were thrown out of the Opera House?"
"I went back in," he replied simply, biting into a piece of toast. Christine stared at him.
"What?"
"Christine, I have spent most of my life in that Opera House. I knew another entrance and went down to my cellar to fetch a few things before I left to find a place for us."
"I can't believe you! You were there and you didn't tell me!" Christine said, jumping to her feet and throwing her napkin at his head. He ducked and smiled.
"I didn't want to risk you being hurt."
"But still! You could have told Madame Giry. She could have told me! Or you could at least have written a note!" Christine exclaimed, lunging at him. He jumped up and caught her, spinning her around with a laugh.
"After I had retrieved a few things that were rather valuable to me, including a new mask, I rode out of Paris to find somewhere that would shelter us. I found this house almost straight away and bought it within a matter of hours. The previous owner has left for some distant country, so he will not trouble us," Erik said, holding her to him, his chest against her back. They looked out of the window.
The storm had left a fresh, clean feeling to the air, and the grass was laden with dew.
Christine looked up at him. "And then?"
"I suspected that you would go to your father. You always do when you feel troubled. So I waited there for you. And then, it got to last night, and I began to wonder if you would ever come. And suddenly there you were. With him." His arms tightened slightly around her as he continued, "I would have killed him, had you not stopped me."
"I love you, Erik. I could not let your soul be tainted by something so foul and pointless as his death," Christine replied. Erik rested his unmasked cheek against her hair.
"I love you so much, Christine. For so long now, I have loved you. I never dreamed for a moment that you would return my feelings."
"I loved you first," Christine teased. He smirked.
"So you say."
"I did! That first time you sang to me in the chapel, I loved you."
"No. At that time you were a child in love with an angel," Erik replied. Christine thought about it and he asked, "When did you love me?"
She considered for some time. "After Hannibal. When you took me down to your home and made me sing for you. I think it was then."
"You asked me to return you that night."
"Yes… but everyday after that I waited for you. But you didn't come. I was afraid that you had left me forever."
"And then we had that lesson and I hurt you," he said softly.
"But the next day you sent me a letter and got me the main part."
"Indeed. And not too long after that the Viscount stole your first kiss," Erik said, somewhat regretfully.
Christine hesitated. "Actually…"
"…there was someone else?" Erik asked, surprised and not altogether happily. Christine smiled.
"I was only a child. There was a boy, a little older than myself who I played with. He was leaving and he kissed me goodbye. I couldn't have been more than eight."
"What was his name?" Erik asked curiously. Christine cast her mind back.
"I don't… Raoul. Yes, that was it. Raoul de Chagny. We never saw each other again and I hardly thought about him after that."
"As long as he doesn't try and claim your kiss again, then we are at peace," Erik smirked.
Christine laughed and said, "You have nothing to worry about. Neither of us does. We're safe here and we can finally be happy."
"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," Erik said quietly. She looked up at him and continued the line.
"Lead me, save me from my solitude."
"Say you'll want me with you, here beside you," he continued.
"Anywhere you go, let me go too."
"Christine… that's all I ask of you…" Erik murmured, slipping something onto her left hand. She looked down and saw a simple golden band, set with a single diamond.
Erik watched her nervously. Slowly Christine lifted her head to look him in the eye. He looked at her, his face filled with hope. She smiled gently and kissed him.
"Never let me go. That's all I ask of you…" she murmured in his ear.
"Viscount, I am telling you. Christine Daae is not here. She has not been here since yesterday evening, when she left with you," André said, tiredly. The Viscount de Martinez glared at him and then turned on Firmin.
"I don't believe you! Where is she?"
"Please, Viscount, stop this madness. You are free to search the Opera House for as long as you want. Christine Daae is not here," Firmin said.
William stared at them and then turned to his men.
"Search the building!"
They spread out and the managers moved off, muttering crossly. Meg Giry watched from the stairs, where she stood with her mother.
"Maman, why are they searching here? Where is Christine?"
"I do not know, Meg," Madame Giry said quietly. The Viscount caught sight of the pair and beckoned for them. Reluctantly they stepped forward.
"Madame Giry, you are as close to Christine as a mother, are you not?"
"I am, Viscount."
"Then she would surely tell you where she is."
"The last I heard of Christine was that she went to the cemetery with you, last night," Madame Giry said frankly. William made a noise of extreme displeasure. "Please, monsieur… what happened to Christine? Did she simply vanish?" Madame Giry pressed.
The Viscount turned on her. "What happened, you ask? What happened, Madame Giry, is that while we were in the cemetery that foul creature, Erik, half strangled me and then kidnapped Christine!"
"Kidnapped her? She did not go willingly?" Madame Giry asked.
"What does it matter, you foolish woman? The point is that my property has been stolen, willingly or not! And I will not rest until I have found her again and that man is strung up by his own cursed noose!" William spat, storming off.
Meg and Madame Giry exchanged startled glances before retreating up the stairs.
"Christine and the Phantom? I don't understand…" Meg said quietly.
Madame Giry said softly, "He was her tutor. The one who sang to her. At some point they fell in love and now they have run away together."
"The Phantom was her tutor? The one she called her Angel of Music?" Meg said in surprise. Her mother nodded.
"Yes. Erik, the Phantom, heard her sing when she was just a child and knew he could make her great. And that was what he spent his life doing. I doubt he ever planned for this to happen, but happen it did."
Meg stared at her mother in silence before saying, "What if he finds them? We can't let Christine be hurt again, nor Erik. There has to be someway to help them."
"If I knew where they were, I could send them a message, but he didn't tell me where he was going. That night… everything was so rushed. I never thought I would see Erik give up his Opera House. But Christine must mean everything to him, for him to give up his music," Marie Giry said quietly.
Meg walked with her for a short while before saying, "If the Viscount finds them I will do everything I can to help them."
"We all will, child. We all will…" Madame Giry said, looking over her shoulder at the searching men.
Several hours passed before the Viscount de Martinez was finally convinced that Christine was not hiding in some corner of the Opera House. He brought his man back together and headed for the door, most of the occupants of the Opera House watching with hostile gazes. William looked around and then spoke to Firmin and André coldly.
"I am withdrawing my patronage from your Opera House as from this moment."
"We supposed you would. We have already found a new patron," André said in a perfectly composed voice. William looked furious and stormed for the door.
"Viscount?" Madame Giry said, stepping forward. William stopped and looked at her.
"What?"
"I would like to offer you a word of advice," she said pleasantly. He spat at her.
"I have no time for your foolishness, woman." He started towards the door again but she called after him with a smirk playing about her mouth.
"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes."
He paused and looked back at her. She smiled and lifted her hand to eye level.
"You never know what you may find there. Keep your hand at the level of your eyes, Viscount."
There was nothing to worry about for Erik and Christine that beautiful day. After breakfast, they explored the house together, investigating each room, and noting what would have to be repaired.
"The damage is not as bad as I first thought," Erik commented, "We could easily repair it ourselves."
"Then we shall," Christine said decisively.
Erik led her out to the stables where a small carriage was waiting. Together they put the horses in and sat on the drivers' bench as Erik flicked the reins. He wore a hood over his face to hide the mask.
"I doubt that the Viscount is not searching for us and my mask is certainly distinctive enough for someone to notice," he said wryly as they drove down a narrow lane.
Christine sat thinking. "Erik?"
"Yes?"
"What is your last name?"
"I never had one. Ghosts don't have names," he said with a wry smile at her. She frowned.
"You're not a ghost anymore. You should have a name. Besides… I would like to know what my name is to become."
Another smile, but more joyful this time. He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road.
"Then we shall choose a name. Maybe… Erik le Phantome…"
"Le Phantome? I quite like it. It's rather suiting." Christine laughed. Erik smiled.
"Then that is my name."
"Our name," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder as he drove.
The village was reasonably small and quite busy at this time of the morning. People were flocking to the streets to buy and sell their wares. Christine and Erik left the carriage in the care of a stableman and walked the streets to a seamstresses shop. It was empty and they went inside, Erik making sure that his face was covered.
A woman came from the back of the shop and smiled politely. She was short and dumpy, with a round cheerful face and thin brown hair. "How may I help you?"
"I need some clothes made as soon as possible. If you have any made already I will also buy some of those," Christine said.
The woman nodded. "We have a few made, but if you wish to have some made I will need measurements."
"That will be fine," Christine replied, removing her cloak. Erik took it tenderly and she smiled at him.
She stood on the stool as the woman took measurements.
"You are both new to the village?"
"Yes," Christine replied quietly.
"I thought so. We are so excluded out here; it is always quite unusual for someone new to arrive. You and your husband are living here?"
"My fiancé and I have bought a house nearby," Christine corrected her.
She smiled up at Christine and said, "How lovely for you! I think I have all of the measurements now. May I take a name? Your current name or the name you will be taking at least." She returned behind the counter to write it down. Christine glanced over at Erik and smiled softly.
"I am to be Christine le Phantome."
"An unusual name, Madame le Phantome. Your dresses will be ready by the end of next week. Will you be collecting or shall I have them taken to you?"
"I shall collect them. Many thanks."
The woman waved cheerfully and Christine took Erik's arm as they left the shop.
"Christine le Phantome… I like it!"
"I am glad. We should buy some food and some supplies for repairs while we are here, I suppose," Erik said thoughtfully. Christine nodded and they moved through the busy streets, still holding onto each other as though some unexpected fate would tear them apart.
Dearest Madame Giry and Meg,
I apologize profusely for not contacting you sooner to assure you of my safety. Current events have been rather frantic and I have been extremely preoccupied.
Erik and I are both well and, above all things, happy. After we escaped from the Viscount de Martinez in the cemetery, Erik brought me to a safe place, where we are now living in peace. It is a lovely place, if a little in need of repairs. Erik and I are seeing to that ourselves. It is rather exciting, as though we are building our lives anew. I suppose we are, aren't we?
We are to be married as soon as possible. Our only problem is finding somewhere safe to carry out the wedding. If we can find somewhere safe I hope that you will both be able to join us for that day. There are no two people I would rather have with us, and I am sure Erik feels the same way.
I have heard no news of the Opera House or of the Viscount. I am hoping that this means that the Opera Populaire is still open and that all is well. As for the Viscount… I pray everyday that he shall not find us. I cannot imagine he is still searching for us, not after a month. But just in case, I shall not send our address. At least, not yet. When I know it is safe I shall write or even journey to Paris to see you.
Please give my regards to Monsieur André and Monsieur Firmin, if you think it is safe to do so. Also, please apologize for the many problems I undoubtedly caused during my time at the Opera Populaire. I must go now, for Erik and I are hoping to finish repairing another room by the end of the week.
Your faithful friend,
Christine Daae
P.S: My name shall be changing soon, but I cannot tell you to what here. Until I see you, I remain Christine Daae.
Meg read the letter excitedly and looked up at her mother. "She is safe! Oh, I am so relieved… and to be married soon as well!" Madame Giry smiled and took the letter again.
"She does not believe that the Viscount is still searching for her… if only she knew."
The Viscount's search for Christine and Erik had not faltered in the least over the past month. Everyone in Paris now knew of the hunt for the Opera Ghost and Soprano, and William had offered a reward of 5,000 francs for any news of them. So far, no one had stepped forward to claim the reward.
"Are you going to speak with the managers?" Meg asked. Madame Giry nodded.
"I shall do so now. And you, Meg Giry, need to practice. Go."
"But Maman!"
"Go!" the ballet mistress snapped. Meg scurried from the room, looking less than pleased as Madame Giry headed for the office of the managers. Firmin looked up as she knocked.
"Come in. Oh, Madame Giry… is everything alright?"
"I have had news from Christine Daae," Madame Giry said.
Firmin stared and then blinked. "What? She is safe?"
"She and Erik are in hiding somewhere. She sent me this letter but it has no return address." She handed it to the manager who read quickly. His face broke into a smile.
"That is excellent news, Madame Giry. I shall have to tell André at once."
"May I have the letter?"
"Of course, of course… I don't suppose I need to tell you that it would not be wise to spread the news of this contact?"
"I know, Monsieur. Excuse me, but rehearsals will be starting soon," Madame Giry said with a smile.
"Christine, could you pass me those nails?" Erik said, gesturing to a box. Christine handed them to him and he selected one, hammering it into place. Christine smiled as she watched him. He caught the smile and returned it.
They were outside the house, making the final repairs to the building. Three months had now passed since their arrival and it that time they had worked steadily to repair the house. Erik was now fixing the stable roof. Christine found she could not do much except paint or fetch things, but she did not mind. She was happy enough to sit and watch Erik work. He seemed so different now. He was no longer the Phantom who had walked the corridors of the Opera Populaire. He was… human. Simply a man who she loved more than anything else in this world.
"Another nail, please," he said. She passed him one and he fixed the final plank into place. Then he jumped down and they looked up at the finished work.
"We did it," he commented. Christine smiled.
"We did… it really feels like our home now."
"I know what you mean. We have finally accomplished something and now we can rest for a while."
They stepped inside and walked through the sunlit house. To their disappointment, they had not yet seen any sign of the ghost that had driven away the last owner, but they had discovered that it was a woman who had died several hundred years before on the top floor.
"Maybe she is shy," Christine had commented. They still kept an eye out for her though, hoping she would reveal herself to them.
Erik took her hand as they wandered the sunny corridors. "Did you write to Marie Giry again?"
"Last week. I have not given her the address though. Not until we hear about the Viscount…" Christine said, but her heart could not be dampened by the thought of William. Not when she was so happy. Erik hesitated and she looked up at him.
"What is the matter?"
"… The newspaper," he said. Christine frowned and went to the library, where the newspaper lay on the table. She picked it up and read the headline.
SEARCH FOR MISSING SOPRANO CONTINUESChristine Daae of the world-renowned Opera Populaire of Paris disappeared nearly four months ago and the search for her continues. Miss Daae was last seen by the Viscount de Martinez in the city cemetery. The Viscount is anxious for her safe recovery and has offered a reward of 5,000 francs for any information leading to the discovery of Miss Daae.
The only information known to the public is that Miss Daae was kidnapped by the famous Phantom of the Opera, who also goes by the name of Erik. No surname is known to him but can be easily recognized by either wearing a mask over his face or by having a deformity on the right side of his face.
The rest of the story was about how she vanished, where to go with information, and the tale of the Phantom of the Opera, dramatically embellished by the journalist. There was also a picture of Christine, from when she performed in Hannibal so long ago.
Christine sank into a chair and looked up at Erik. "I had hoped that he would have lost interest by now. I can't understand why he is still looking for us. No man could possibly desire me that much."
"Do not doubt yourself, Christine. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. And besides, it is not only for that reason that he pursues us. The Viscount is a powerful man and if it is found out that he was outwitted by a girl and a ghost it would ruin his reputation. And reputation means everything to someone like him," Erik said.
Christine sighed and then shrugged, getting to her feet again. "No matter. It simply means we shall have to remain vigilant and perhaps it would be better not to write to Madame Giry again for a while."
"I fear it will not be that simple. Now that a picture of you has been published it will only be a matter of time before someone in the village makes the connection," Erik said, drawing her into his arms. She accepted his embrace gratefully.
"Perhaps it would be better if you went away somewhere. A secluded place…" he murmured but she shook her head.
"No. I won't leave you. As long as we're together, he can't harm us."
In truth he was relieved at her answer. If she had left him now… it wasn't worth thinking about. She smiled at him.
"Come. It's nearly dinner. I'll make us something to eat."
"Very well. Or would you rather have some music first?" he asked.
She laughed. "Erik, you know I couldn't say no to music!"
They went into another room, where Erik had kept his music and instruments. Shortly after their arrival he had gone into town and came back with a smile and a piano. He spent every spare moment he had in the music room, writing and playing. Christine was perfectly happy to sit and listen to him but he had insisted that she continue to sing.
"Even if I am the only one who will hear you, I will not allow your voice to become out of practice," he had told her firmly, and she had no objections to this.
Erik handed her a piece of sheet music and she smiled. It was Think of Me. He began to play the piano but she didn't sing. Instead she stared down at the music. Erik paused.
"Are you alright?" he asked in concern.
She looked up and smiled slightly. "I'm fine… I was just remembering the night I sang this for the first time on stage. The night you took me to your home under the Opera House."
He smiled and said, "I remember it well. You sang so beautifully for me that night…"
"Only because you held me like that. You took my breath away," Christine teased.
Erik arched his eyebrow and said, "Did I know?"
"You always did, Erik. Every day I hoped to see you, because the time I spent with you was what I lived for. The most unbearable times were those when you did not contact me."
"If we are being nostalgic, I should tell you about my fondest memories of the Opera Populaire," Erik commented, rising from the piano. Christine smiled and he took her hand, leading her to the center of the room.
"The Masquerade Ball, for example… that despicable Viscount had taken so many of your dances but then Carlotta claimed him for a while."
"I looked up and saw you, dressed in red and black. You crossed the room and came to me."
"I took your hand…" Erik took her hand in his and bowed slightly.
"I recognized your eyes first," Christine told him. He placed his other hand on her waist, guiding her in dance, a smile gracing his mouth.
"We danced among those fools, and I could not tear my eyes away from yours," he said quietly.
"And then the dance ended, and you kissed my hand," Christine said as they came to a stop. Erik smiled an obligingly pecked her hand. Then he kissed her lips and she smiled.
"And you did that. Then you vanished."
"Indeed," Erik said mysteriously. The smile faded from Christine's face as she recalled the next event.
"And then… the Viscount…" Erik pressed a finger to her mouth.
"No, my love. We shall speak of him no longer."
She smiled and placed her arms around his neck, as they continued to dance slowly. They had no idea how long they danced around the room before Christine said quietly, "Shall we sing?"
"We shall," he said, but he kissed her first. She smiled and followed him to the piano to do her scales.
The Viscount de Martinez looked up sharply as there was a knock on the door of his study. A servant looked in.
"Excuse me for interrupting, sir, but there's a woman here who says she has news of Miss Daae."
"Send her in. Now," William commanded, getting to his feet.
A short, dumpy woman entered and curtsied clumsily. William eyed her distastefully.
"You say you have information for me?"
"Indeed, Monsieur Viscount. You're lookin' for a young woman, very pretty, long dark curly hair, goes by the name of Christine?"
"Christine Daae, that is correct," he said eagerly.
"Dunno 'bout Daae. But there's a woman who looks very similar living just outside my village. Lives with her fiancé. He wears a hood all the time."
William eyed her thoughtfully. "What surname does this woman give?" he asked carefully.
The seamstress smiled. "Phantome, sir. Christine le Phantome."