The echoes of the music faded away in my head as I slowly came back to the present. Lili was looking at me with a puzzled expression on her face, tinged with a resignation I did not then understand. I don't know what came over me, but I suddenly wanted to be away from them all, even Lili. I had to remain there, though, and pretend everything was all right. I adopted a listless expression, pretending I was mazed by fear. Beside me, Lili snorted.
Fortunately there was a distraction then provided. Sometime during my lapse of attention, a decision had evidently been made to see if the Phantom had truly gone when the music had stopped. It didn't seem safe just to assume that he had. Leonie was looking around the room as she announced that she was going to open the door. As her piercing gaze coursed by, it seemed to me that she was also mutely asking if anyone else would like to do it. She passed by me as if my slack expression had convinced her not to bother. I was not ill-pleased.
She also hurried over Sami, even though she looked eager to take up the unspoken challenge; Leonie was not one to let another take all the glory, even if she herself was rather nervous at the prospect. I idly wondered why she even bothered to inquire; still, that was Leonie.
So, with a martyred sigh, Leonie went over to the door. We crowded around, though still at a slight distance, and peered over each other's shoulders. Adele had wormed her way to the front of the pack, and I could see her almost unholy eagerness from her profile. It made me shiver.
Leonie put her hand on the worn doorknob. Everything else seemed to fade away to the edges of my perception; never had that door seemed so close to me as now when I was standing several feet away. Suddenly I was the one with my hand on the knob, feeling the various scrapes on its softened brass. I was the one ever so carefully turning it, praying under my breath that just this once the old door wouldn't make a sound. I could feel her fear that the spectre would be standing right outside, but mingled with that was my own ashamed admittance that I didn't want to see instead that he was gone.
And then Sami strode forward and yanked the door wide open out of Leonie's tentative grasp. A creaking, groaning sound sliced through the hushed air, ending in an appalling two-octave shriek as the door protested its treatment. All of us shuddered as if a wild breeze had swept among us, but Sami never paused as she continued thickly out into the hall, disregarding Leonie as a mere barrier to overcome.
"Can you believe her?" gasped Adele, in terror mingled with delight. She rushed in Sami's wake, though abruptly paused just inside the doorway. She completely ignored Leonie, who was looking flabbergasted at the brusqueness of Sami's passing, and was slightly teetering on her feet.
What was the matter with Adele? I thought, having never seen her quite this way before. Lili beside me was shaking her head in disgust.
Vedette came to Leonie's assistance, and Leonie was ungrateful as always, but that was hardly of consequence now with Sami out there, alone in the shadowed hallway. The rest of us crept forward around Adele's sharp elbows and peered out from the doorway.
It was evident that no ghost had climbed the stairs, for Sami was making a show of peering over the banister. As we watched, she leaned way over the rail and then gasped, jumping back about a foot, bringing her hands up to her face. From inside the doorway, we also all jumped, even Adele, who whimpered in fright and backed up into Liana. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Vedette remained calm, so I gulped and tried to salvage my dignity. And as Sami turned, dropping her hands to reveal a malicious face, I was glad that I did.
"Hallway's as still as the grave," she remarked sonorously. For some reason she looked directly at me for a moment, her rather piggish eyes filled with malice. I struggled to show nothing more than mild interest on my face, but evidently failed as a grin split over her face. Then her gaze passed by me to enjoy the others' startled or sickened faces.
"Oh, Sami," reproached Liana somewhat shakily.
Adele straightened her costume and pretended that she had only been acting along with Sami; Sami didn't seem to care, as we all knew better. She stood there, grinning wolfishly, unrepentant; but then Sami had always fancied herself fit for the more dramatic parts.
"Well, come on," came Leonie's voice from off to the side. She evidently had recovered enough to realize she had let Sami take all the honors thus far. "Let's go congratulate them like we always do."
"Not that Christine ever needs our praise," muttered Lili next to me. I looked at her in surprise. Lili had never shown such an open distaste for Christine before. I saw Amy frown a little too, as if she'd heard.
I had forgotten about Amy. Now we looked at each other and I saw she wanted to say something more to me. But I was in no mood to hear any more protests that she wasn't supposed to have said what she did, or more insistence that I say nothing at all. It was already too late, and I think she knew it, for she abruptly gave up when Leonie started fussing everyone out of the room.
Lili shot me a warning glance when I started to follow obediently in their wake. As she was someone whose good faith I did value, I hung back, announcing in distress that I'd lost a button. Lili volunteered to help me find it. From the way Leonie turned and looked at me, I knew she was going to offer to help as well, but Amy ushered her out with the others. Amy knew that the others were more or less lost without their leader, and would have stayed in the room as long as it took us to find the errant (and imaginary) button. It was better to keep me from blurting out to the others what she'd said as long as she could. She knew I'd tell Lili; but better Lili than Leonie; better Lili than Adele.
No one inquired why Leonie chose the longer, alternate route through the upstairs hallway to get backstage rather than the more direct route downstairs. She must have been turning up the gas as they went for the light from the hallway increased; then Lili closed the door.
"That really was the Phantom, wasn't it," she said flatly, not really asking, her voice mirroring the frown on her face.
"You'll get lines like that," I said mechanically, turning away. But I saw her in the mirrors, still frowning, and in the mirrored reflections of the mirrors. There was no way she was going to be diverted, and she knew that I knew it.
"Rachelle, we have to tell them."
I remained silent, unsure what to say. Now that we had the opportunity to talk unheard, I was strangely reluctant to begin. I felt as if I were entangled in a dream where I was unable to move properly; as if I were back in that corridor.
Taking my silence for mulishness, Lili continued.
"What harm would it do now? They're going to investigate that cloakroom as soon as they can, and when they do, someone will remember that we'd hidden in that very place, and know that we must know its secret. Know that we've known it for a long time."
"Not so very long."
Lili's mouth twisted. "You don't seem to be taking this to heart."
I turned at that, more than a little hurt.
"I'm taking it very much to heart, Lili, but what can we do?" I said helplessly. "We were never supposed to go down there in the first place. You know as well as I that it will be unbearable for us here if they know we've kept this kind of secret from them."
"That's the very reason why we should tell them before they ask us," Lili persisted, though a note of uncertainty came through in her voice. "Besides, they won't even think of it that way. They'll be too caught up with exploring it themselves."
"I don't want them to explore it themselves," I muttered.
Lili stared at me in disbelief. I expected her to ask me why. Instead, after a pause, she said, "Rae…why did you start to creep down the stairs to that awful figure?"
"Awful?" I said, defensively. "With a voice like that? You know we've never heard anything like that in our lives, and we've heard the best here. Weren't you listening?"
"Weren't you looking? When he started turning toward us--"
"I was dragged away," I reminded her tartly. "And besides, you were the one who said I wasn't creeping down the stairs."
"Fine, you weren't creeping down the stairs, but you sure looked like you wanted to," insisted Lili. "I saw your face; it was as if you were fascinated, just like Adele, only in a different way…" And here Lili shuddered, though if it was more because of Adele or because of me, I wasn't sure. She took hold of herself and continued. "And I suppose you wouldn't have seen him when I did, after all. But I looked back just before I got inside the door, and I saw the light fall full on his face, what light there was…what face there was…" She shuddered again, an uncontrollable tremor, and I finally abandoned my hurt feelings and went to her, hugging her.
"Tell me," was all I said, but the calmness of my tone seemed to soothe her.
"He had a mask covering half of his face, but it didn't cover enough. It was as if I could see through his mask, that the light lit the hideous shadow from behind…oh, Rae, I'd have died of fright if he had looked up at us! I can't remember it again!" She started trembling again, and I bit back the relief in my voice and told her that it didn't matter, that I believed her; that she didn't have to tell me anything more.
The truth was that I didn't want to know. Perhaps it was that if Lili, sensible Lili, could corroborate the tales of his grotesqueness, the music I wanted to hold inside me would cease to exist. Even for the sake of my own soul, I already couldn't bear to picture myself without it; it was as if it had burrowed down deep inside me and sought life for it to grow. Fascinated, Lili had said; fascinated I definitely was.
She wasn't finished with me, however. She blinked at me from my protective grasp.
"We still have to tell them."
I sighed. "All right, Lili, all right; we'll tell them – but let's wait just a little while longer. What we really should do is talk to Meg."
"Meg? What's she got to do with this?"
I paced away a little as I told her all that Amy had said. I said little of my personal feelings; though Lili no longer seemed to be such a fan of Christine, I felt it better to hide my envy that disgusted even me.
"So despite what she said, we really should see what Meg has to say about it before doing anything else," I concluded. "Besides, it's not as if we really found anything definite…"
I trailed off as I saw before me the faded glory of the hallway, now with an opulent red glow around the scene in my mind's eye. I wanted that faded glory, I wanted the chimes of the clock, I wanted the soulful tones of his voice to come again and again, and enhance what I was hearing inside.
Lili shook her head at me. "You really did hit your head on that stone floor, didn't you," she said, oblivious to my inattention. "You keep trying to convince yourself that he's not the monster he so obviously is. Why are you?"
Because I knew she hadn't heard the music like I had, I couldn't quite respond, though I resented her implication that the stone floor from ten days ago had impaired my judgment now.
"Let's go join the others," I suggested instead, and Lili gave a little sigh. Well, let her be disappointed, I thought defensively; then there'll be two of us. Though I didn't want to face my reasons for being disappointed right then.
Lili pulled open the door and we set off down the hall.
"You know," she said to me musingly, "His voice reminded me of Christine's."
"Christine's?" I said sharply, finding I was ill-pleased that Lili thought so. It made my own half-buried suspicions seem too true.
"Yes. Something about the tone, or maybe it was the feeling behind it…" Lili shook her head. "I can't seem to express it too well, but if she has something to do with him, I don't think I'm mistaken. There is no doubt that something has happened to make her improve so much in so short a space of time."
"Even if he's the monster you think he is? Even if you don't like her?"
"I think she's in trouble," Lili responded gravely, looking aslant at me as we walked. "And I think that she doesn't know she is."
I really didn't know what to say to that.
Backstage, there was the usual uproar of half-dressed chorus girls popping in and out of rooms, harried men trying to move special, delicate props, and patrons surrounding the principal actors. Carlotta was firmly ensconced in the center of the gallery, seemingly oblivious to all but her admirers, who seemed tripled tonight. This at least kept her out of our way as we sidled along the outskirts to find Meg. Though she'd ignore us at other times, Carlotta was by no means above treating us as dogsbodies to fetch and carry for her. She had a special knack for spying a hapless second-string chorus girl in the crowd.
Amy saw us from where she was talking to her close friend in the main dance corps, Adele (fortunately nothing like our Adele), and I am sure divined our intent. Fortunately a prop-carrier passed between us so I could pretend I didn't see her look of entreaty.
We had no trouble finding Meg; she was in a corner by the least comfortable dressing room that Christine had been given when she became Carlotta's understudy. Though drafty and in some disrepair, at least Christine had a room of her own.
Meg was talking in a low voice to Christine, who smiled absently at us as we approached, and as absently accepted our congratulations.
"We swear that we could hear you above all the other voices," Lili said, gushing over Christine as if she had never had an unkind thought about her.
"You too, Meg," I added, glaring at Lili.
"Oh, you always say that," said Meg fondly.
"It's true, we could hear both of you," Lili insisted, unabashed. "And it was even more special tonight, because – ow!"
"Sorry," I said. "I lost my footing for a moment."
Meg looked from one to the other of us thoughtfully.
"I really must go," said Christine in her gentle, abstracted voice, and she did just that, vanishing into her tiny domain. I caught a glimpse of a great mirror within just before her door swung shut.
Meg looked a little apologetic for her friend's brusqueness.
"That's all right, Meg," Lili assured her, reading into her expression. "We really wanted to talk to you alone. In private."
"All right," said Meg, curious now. "Let's go where my mother won't find me for awhile, shall we?"
We grinned. Madame Giry was notorious for swooping down on Meg at all moments. Meg may have been exempt from Carlotta's opportuneness, and even then not all the time, but never from her mother's.
Meg led the way across the hall from Christine's shut door to a passageway that ran past the stage against the wings; here we could see all comers and still have enough privacy.
"I wasn't going to say anything in front of Christine," Lili hissed at me. "You didn't have to step on my foot."
"I'm sorry," I said again. "I just wasn't sure for a moment."
"Unlike you, I haven't lost my senses."
I was unable to respond to such a charge because Meg finally stopped after checking ahead to see if anyone was around. The only open room near us was the prompter's stuffy alcove, and she had long departed to join in the festivities. The opera had been doing so well that a late supper was now provided almost every night.
"Well?" Meg asked, her eyes roving from one of us to the other expectantly.
"It's really nothing, it's just--" I began, when Lili cut in ahead of me.
"Meg, we think we saw the Phantom tonight!"
Inwardly I cursed her abruptness. Meg's eyes grew wide, and her face took on a ghastly shade beneath her stage makeup. Then she moved a little, and the impression faded; it must have just been the light.
"Tell me everything," she said, in a voice quite unlike her usual light, happy tone.
Lili had to let me tell some of it, but she mostly did all the talking. I kept back to myself the way the music affected me, sang to me, haunted me even now, yet a little of that must have come out in my part of the narrative, for more than once I saw both of them look at me a little oddly. Both of us stopped just short of mentioning what Amy had said.
"So…" said Meg, letting out a long sigh. "How many of you know about the corridor?"
"Just us, and you, now," said Lili.
"Not Leonie?"
"I think Leonie and Adele at least, suspect something," I said, slowly.
"Yes, Adele," said Meg with a touch of irritation. "That one has a bad future ahead of her if she continues to--" She broke off as she saw our looks of interest.
"I'm talking out of turn," she said, smiling. "Listen. I have to tell my mother about this; she has to know he's been seen again."
"Do you have to tell her…everything?" I asked, quailing. Lili gripped my hand. Madame Giry was, to put it politely, a volatile person at best.
"I think it would be best, don't you?" asked Meg sternly, sounding for a moment like Madame Giry herself. Then she relented.
"It won't be as bad as you're thinking. My mother has known about the Phantom for a long time. She's rather protective of him, and he has never harmed her. He's polite to her, in a courtly way."
"Polite?" I began, incredulous more because it served my own instincts about him than because I disbelieved. I had been doubting my own senses after Lili's diatribe.
Meg was given no chance to expound on this because once again Lili interrupted.
"But Meg, what do you mean, 'again'?" asked Lili. "Does it have to do with the Phantom and Christine?"
"What do you know about Christine?" asked Meg sharply.
"I…uh…" Lili looked to me for support. I gave her a bitter look for her efforts, but plunged ahead.
"Amy said that--"
"Amy!" said Meg, and for a moment she looked really angry. Then she calmed herself down all at once – a trick I wish I knew the knack of – and let out a deep breath.
"I really know little more than you. It's really not mine to tell, and frankly, I don't know how trustworthy you two really are. Amy should never have said anything at all without coming to me first."
"She was just shocked," I said, feeling guilty that I got Amy into trouble. "If you'd seen her…it was as if she didn't really believe what you'd told her, and there it was, before her eyes."
Lili looked at me speculatively, rather dashing my sudden access of pride in being so insightful.
"The fact is, we do know, now," Lili said pointedly. "Meg, we did come to you first, that alone should show you that we won't tell anyone else. Why, Rae said so, herself, back in the practice room. And it's just lucky that Amy told only Rae and Rae…told only me."
Whether it was because of the unpleasant truth of her statements or because she realized that we knew just enough to get into trouble speculating, Meg relented.
"You have noticed how her voice has been improving of late?" she asked.
We nodded.
"Well…she was brought up on tales of the Angel of Music. You may have heard her mention it."
We nodded again. Before she became the remote goddess that she was now, Christine had talked to all of us, though even that hadn't been all that much, even then.
"She believes that the Phantom is her Angel of Music, that he's come to her finally, to help her learn and better her voice."
"How could she possibly think that?" Lili asked.
"Because he's been visiting her," Meg said simply. "Because he's been giving her lessons."
"Visiting! Lessons!" I cried, unable to help myself. But I believed her, for it made awful, complete sense to me. But…why her? Why her and not me?
Meg didn't react to my tone. "Yes, one wouldn't think it, would one, with all these stories of him being so horrendous…but there it is, all the same. But he hadn't been seen walking the corridors for quite some time now – you've noticed that the stories you hear haven't been new - and never before has he been seen singing like that where anyone can see him, or at least…" She trailed off.
"So how does she hear him, then?" I found myself asking.
"On the stage," Meg said. "I saw them once, or thought I did. If my mother hadn't seemed to know all about it, I would never have believed it myself. But I heard him one night, when she was out on the stage by herself. I saw her, and heard her sing, and then heard him. I'll never forget that voice, though I thought it was a dream. I peeked through the curtains and saw nothing but her at first, but the longer I looked, the more I thought I saw a cloaked, hatted figure, but my mother found me and whisked me away."
Rather like my friends whisked me away, I thought.
Meg continued as if glad to finally have another ear to pour her qualms into. "I didn't know if I just imagined it that way because the tales always had him wearing such clothing, but then again, at the time I didn't know about him singing. There was no real reason to suspect that that was the Phantom. But I knew it was he all the same. I asked Christine about it later, against my mother's express wishes…" Meg broke off and grimaced at the thought. "And that's when I learned that this was neither the first time nor the second, and that he was responsible for her rise in the ranks to become Carlotta's understudy. I would not have called what I saw an Angel, but Christine persists in calling him that, and sometimes I'm not all that certain that she's wrong."
"But what does she do now, when the opera is running? Almost every night the stage is being worked on," I said.
"I don't know," Meg said, a little worriedly. "She must be getting her lessons some other way…"
"MEG GIRY!"
We all started. There was no mistaking the voice of Madame Giry. It could rasp through steel, it could shatter the fondest daydream, and it could instantly dispel talk of ghosts, even polite ghosts.
"Don't either of you say anything to the others until I've had a chance to talk to mother," warned Meg. "I know you're nothing like Adele or Leonie, or even Amy, though I thought she'd keep her counsel better--"
Over our voluble protests at such injustice, Meg held up her hands. "I just don't want everyone to start bothering Christine about him," said Meg earnestly. "Or to start hunting for him. I don't know quite what's going on, only that…"
"MEG!"
"I'd better go," said Meg, now looking nervous for all her years. "You had better cut across the wings and come back around through another door. No sense in having us all in trouble at once until I've had a chance to calm her down."
"I thought you said she'd be fine with it," I couldn't resist saying.
"There's no telling with mother," Meg shot back over her shoulder, already retreating back down the hall.
Lili and I were left looking at each other with dumbfounded expressions on our faces.
"So it really is true," Lili whispered.
"You always thought it was," I muttered disgruntledly. "You had no doubt that was the Phantom, or the Phantom's lair."
"Oh, Rae, you didn't either. But it's one thing to think you know all the answers, and another to know you know the answers."
"And yet there's so many more things I wish to know…"
"You'll get your chance soon enough, if I know Madame Giry," said Lili. "Come on, we've got to get back to the others, and this way isn't going to take just a few minutes, either."
We scurried off down the hall, and if we occasionally looked back over our shoulders, neither of us remarked upon it.
