Chapter 5

A few weeks passed. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I went to class and I went to the Manor. I sang and I cleaned. I cooked and I wrote music. Erik and I practised regularly.

Do you notice what's different? I called him Erik. I know, it's strange. We were in the music room and he said,

"Christine?"

"Yes Mr Lavonne?"

"Call me by my first name. Mr Lavonne sounds too…"

"Strict?" I offered with a smile. He nodded. After that he became Erik, although when I mentioned him to anyone else I referred to him as Mr Lavonne.

It was about a month after I had started work that something different happened. It was a Wednesday afternoon. I had finished class and had decided to go home before going to work. I met Raoul at the end of the path leading to my house. He smiled at me.

"Hello Stranger."

"Hey Raoul." I greeted him with a kiss. As we walked up the path he said,

"Where have you been lately? I never see you anymore."

"I've been busy. With work and school." I said. I hadn't told him about the music. Don't ask me why, I have no idea. It was just… it seemed like he and Erik belonged to different worlds. Different sides. A bit like me. Raoul had the good side. The side who acted the perfect daughter, who looked after her father and did well in class. Erik had claimed my other side. The side that wanted to run wild, singing to the heavens.

But fate does iron wedges drive, and alwaies crouds it self betwixt.

It was Andrew Marvell who said that. I have no idea who he was or what it was about, but it seemed to fit.

Anyway, I let us into the house. We went into the kitchen where Raoul started to make tea as I made food. It was almost ritualistic now. We knew what do and chatted amiably as we did so.

"How is work?" He asked as he filled the kettle and plugged it in.

"It's fine. Cooking and cleaning. It's not exactly challenging." I said truthfully. Raoul nodded.

"You're up there a lot though."

"It's a lot of work. Well, not the cooking part. I can do that easily enough. The cleaning takes a bit longer. But I've done the main rooms now. Just a matter of keeping them clean." I said, putting bread in the toaster. Raoul put out two cups, adding milk to both and sugar to one.

"What time do you finish on Friday? Maybe we can catch a movie afterwards?" He said, putting the milk back in the fridge.

"I'll be done by nine. I'll drive down to your place and we can walk over." I said. Raoul grinned.

"Great. I've been missing you, you know."

Overwhelming guilt consumed me. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him.

"Raoul… I'm sorry. I'm the worst girlfriend ever. I've barely spoken to you in weeks." He looked at me.

"Christine, its fine. You've been busy. I mean, you've got school and work, not to mention looking after your dad. I can't expect you to just drop everything for me."

"OK, you know what? I have Tuesdays and Thursdays free. From now on, they are Raoul-and-Christine days. No interferences. And we both have Monday and Friday lunch free. We'll meet up then too." I said, thinking furiously.

Raoul smiled.

"That sounds good." We sat at the table to eat. I still felt guilty and decided that I should do something for him.

"Do you want to know something?"

"Depends what it is." He replied with a grin. I laughed and then said,

"I've taken up my music again." He stared at me, his teacup frozen halfway to his mouth.

"You have? When? How?"

"Yes, about a month ago, and because of Mr Lavonne." I said, answering each question in turn. Raoul blinked.

"Mr Lavonne?"

"Yeah. He caught me singing to my CD player and offered to teach me. He's an incredible musician, Raoul. I've never heard anything like it. So he teaches me after I finish work."

"He teaches you? For free?" he said incredulously.

"He loves music. I think he just wants to share it with someone. His music… it's beautiful. I found one of his songs and he couldn't finish it. I finished it without meaning to and he said he wanted to teach me." I said, biting into my toast.

Raoul looked at me, pondering something. I swallowed my mouthful and said,

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing… it's just a little weird."

"I think he's lonely, Raoul. I think he just wants to share his music. And I love music, so it works out. Hey, do you want to hear a song?" I said, jumping to my feet. Raoul got up and caught my arm.

"Christine, calm down." I stared at him.

"OK, what's wrong? Why are you giving me that look?"

"Think about it, Christine. A very lonely, eccentric man suddenly decides to take an interest in his young, attractive assistant."

"Are you seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" I asked quietly. He shrugged, not sure how to reply. I wrenched my arm away and said angrily,

"Raoul, how can you even suggest that? You really think that I would-"

"Not you! Him! How do you know he's not just…?" He couldn't finish his sentence. I glared at him.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing! Mr Lavonne may be a little strange but he is a perfect gentleman. For god's sake, Raoul, why can't you just be happy for me? Do you know how badly I wanted to sing after Mum died? But I couldn't. He has given me a chance to sing again. And nothing you say is going to stop me singing now."

The only sound was my harsh breathing. Raoul just stared at me. I stared back. Then he swallowed and said quietly,

"Christine… I'm sorry. I just… I worry about you. That house is miles from anywhere. If something happened and I couldn't get to you…"

And the guilt was back. I impulsively hugged him.

"I'm sorry too. It's just… it feels so good, you know? It feels like I'm finally getting everything together again. Getting my life back on track."

"I know. And I'm sorry."

"You already said that." I smiled.

"Well, I really mean it." He smiled and kissed me. Ten minutes later when Dad came in he was still kissing me.

"Raoul de Chagny, would you mind putting my daughter down?" He said sternly. Raoul stepped away sheepishly. Dad smiled jokingly and winked.

"Don't mind really, but not in here. It's not very hygienic."

He went into the living room. Raoul and I stood blushing for a moment and then started to laugh through sheer embarrassment.

Erik was already in the music room when I arrived. I opened the door but he didn't notice me. He was playing so intently. I listened to the music. I hadn't heard this before. It was different. Harsher than his usual sound.

But if I had learnt one thing in my time at the Manor it was that Erik was not a simple person. There were depths there. Hidden rivers, full of anger and intensity. While he seemed so calm on the outside, it was only the cover he put on. Inside he was like a storm, never stopping and never calming.

He stopped playing abruptly and looked up. I smiled.

"That was incredible."

"When did you get here?"

"About two minutes ago. Is chicken alright for dinner?"

"Yes, fine." He said. He stood and came to the door. I smiled again and went down to the kitchen. I had already prepared the chicken, it just need heating. I busied myself with making a salad. My thoughts wandered to Raoul and what he had said.

Although I had said sorry, I was still quite angry inside. He was being so presumptuous. Not to mention paranoid. Was this a guy thing, I wondered.

I had to stop thinking about it, I realised. I had brought a CD player/radio with me last week. I plugged it in and slipped in a CD. It was one my mum and dad had made, years ago, before I was born. Dad had told me how they'd rented out a recording studio for a whole day and just played music for the whole time. There were only three copies of this CD. One for me, one for Mum and one for Dad. I didn't know where Mum's was now. I suspected that Dad had hidden it away.

As I wondered where he had put the CD Angel of Music began to play. I sang along as I sliced tomatoes and cucumbers.

Angel of music

Guide and guardian

Grant to me your glory

Angel of music

Hide no longer

Secret and strange angel

There were two versions of this song. The other one was on the CD but I rarely listened to it. Mum and Dad had performed it together and it didn't seem right to intrude. But for some reason when it came on this time I stopped to listen.

Angel, I hear you

Speak, I listen

Stay by my side

Guide me

Angel

My soul was weak

Forgive me

Enter at last

Master

That was Mum's part. Dads went like this.

Flattering child

You shall know me

See why in shadow I hide

Look at your face in the mirror

I am there inside

And then Mum would again.

Angel of music

Guide and guardian

Grant to me your glory

Angel of music

Hide no longer

Secret and strange angel

Dad didn't sing often. And to be fair, Mum's voice surpassed his own. Anita Daae was a famous opera singer. She could have gone far. But she stopped singing professionally when she had me. It's strange to think that no one would hear her sing again.

"Who was that?" I almost hit the ceiling, I jumped so hard. I whirled around and saw Erik standing by the CD player. I clutched my chest, breathing hard.

"You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days!" He seemed unconcerned. "That was my parents. They recorded it about twenty years ago, before I was born. My Mum wrote that song."

He pressed the play button to listen to it again.

"Your family is musical?"

"Well, there are only three …two. Two of us. Mum used to sing in opera. Dad plays the violin; he was quite famous for it. He doesn't play much anymore though." I said, rinsing the vegetables under the tap.

Erik considered me for a moment.

"Your father is Charles Daae?" I looked up.

"Yes. You've heard of him?"

"I remember the name." He said simply before turning to leave.

After I had finished washing the dishes after dinner, I went to the music room. Erik was standing by the window, looking out at the gardens. I picked up the sheet music he had left on the piano. We were still working on Think of Me. I waited for Erik patiently. Eventually he turned and sat down on the piano stool. I said,

"Erik? Why did you agree to take me as a student?" I don't know why I said it. Raoul's influences. Erik looked up at me as he played.

"Because I can. From the beginning."

It wasn't an answer but I obeyed. I didn't need to look at the music anymore. Instead I watched him as I sang. His eyes were on the music, intently playing. But he stopped and said,

"You're too tight."

"Tight?"

"Yes." He got up and drew the curtains. The room fell into darkness. Erik stood behind me. He put a hand on my stomach and used his other was on the back of my neck, holding me head straight. His voice said quietly in my ear,

"You need to sing so you can feel it."

I started to sing. Low, and quiet at first.

"Sing." He encouraged. I moved up the scale, reaching higher notes with ease. The hand on my neck moved up into the dark curls of my hair. My eyes were closed as he murmured,

"Sing…" I sang louder, reaching wonderfully high notes. They echoed around the dark room, reverberating into beauty. He said it again, his hand pressing against my stomach, his mouth next to my ear. And still I sang. The notes reached impossible pitch, inhuman heights of sound.

And still I sang.

"Sing!" He said, his voice still nothing more than a whisper. It was then that I peaked. The sound coming from my mouth was unbelievable. And yet I didn't stop. I kept that note steady; I opened my eyes, staring into the darkness of the room. The only thing I knew was the sound of the music and feeling of Erik pressed against me.

Slowly the sound faded away. The echoes lasted a little longer then my voice. Then that sound too died. The only noise was our breathing now. Neither of us moved. I don't know about him, but I had no desire to step away and break the connection that would force us back into reality.

Eventually Erik said in a low voice,

"That, my angel of music, is why I teach you." I turned my neck slightly so I could see his face. His eyes were fixed on mine. Slowly, so gently, he disentangled his hands from hair. But he did not step away. I turned and looked up at him, my breathing shallow and my hands shaking. He stared down at me for a moment and then stepped back.

"Think of Me. From the beginning." He said, seating himself at the piano. Even in darkness he knew how to play perfectly. I could just see his outline, the white mask gleaming even in the dark. I licked my dry lips and waited for the cue to sing.