Chapter Six - A Bit of Gossip
During practice the next morning, Meg forced herself to forget…for a few hours, at least…the night's strange drama beneath the Opera.
She went through the exercises with the other dancers, the strenuous rehearsals forcing away the memory and the desire.
"Meg! The ribbon of your slipper is untied," she heard her mother say in the quiet, imperious tone she used with all the dancers, "fix it at once."
Meg immediately stepped away from the line of girls and bent to retie her slipper. She found, however, that the ribbon had torn and was about to pull away from the shoe completely.
She made her excuses and hurried out to the wardrobe rooms to find a spare pair. Her other pair, the ones she had worn the night before, was ruined beyond use.
Having donned a new pair of slippers, she rose from the wooden bench and, smoothing her frock and hair, turned to go…
And came face to face with Joseph Bouquet.
"Well, well, Meg Giry," he said, lounging against the door frame, "why aren't you in rehearsals, girl? Does your worthy mother know you're here?"
"Yes, Joseph. She does."
"Oh, I'm sure of it, girl. Just like she knew about Lefevre," he said, with a wink, "I've a bit of gossip for you little tarts."
"I'm in a hurry, Joseph."
He shifted sideways to lean against the other side of the door frame, leaving only half the entrance free.
"It's about your little friend, Mademoiselle Daae."
Meg was considering how she could get past the leering scene-shifting when she heard him say Christine's name.
"Ah, that got your attention, Meg! I know where she was last night."
Meg hesitated before answering; could Joseph Buquet really know? Did he know that the young soprano had spent the night in that candlelit grotto beneath the Opera cellars? Did he know the truth about the Phantom?
"I thought she spent the evening with the patron, the Vicomte de Chagny."
Joseph laughed, a dirty and insinuating chuckle.
"She was in the company of a de Chagny, all right, Meg. But it sure as hell wasn't that pretty boy Vicomte."
He leaned forward, gave Meg a conspiratorial grin.
"She was with the Comte de Chagny, that Philippe fellow that La Sorelli jilted last season."
"Philippe? Don't be ridiculous! He hasn't even set foot in Opera since La Sorelli married that Florentine banker."
"You think so, Mam'zelle Giry? Well, last night…I was up in the hall that leads from the dormitory to the roof and…who do you think I saw coming across the leads?"
Meg folded her arms across her chest, a defensive habit she'd acquired around certain men like Buquet. She knew all too well that Christine had not been with either of the de Chagny brothers.
"I saw Christine Daae and, I must say, the girl looked liked she'd been burning the midnight oil. Ha, that's a sure thing. And there was a man with her."
He leaned just a bit closer and Meg took a step back, smelling the onions and cheap brandy on his breath.
"He was tall fellow, with a rich-looking cloak draped around himself and Mademoiselle Daae," he continued with mock drama in his voice, "I will say I didn't get a look at his face. He had a black fedora pulled down over it. But I'll bet you a new ribbon, Meg Giry, that it was the Comte de Chagny."
"No bet, Joseph. Please, I need to get back to rehearsals."
As she ducked past him and scurried out of the wardrobe robe, he gave her a slap on her backside. She turned on his furiously.
"If you touch me again, Joseph Buquet, I will scream."
"And, damn it, girl, you can out-scream La Carlotta."
