I want to Thank Regina for betaing this chapter for me! Thank's Darlin'!
You killed daddy…
Maria plastered a smile on her face, as her fingers hurriedly buttoned Jacques clothes.
She was determined to go on with life as usual, and had brushed away all the offers from her neighbors. She'd only just gotten rid of Annabelle and Penelope, the two elderly women from down the road, who had been intent on relieving her of Jacques, until she had time to think.
She'd lost her temper then, and screamed at them to leave.
"I am quite capable of taking care of my own child!"
Of course, it wasn't until after they'd left, astounded, that she noticed her mistake.
Jacques was not her child.
There was another sharp knock at her door, and she threw up her hands in exasperation, "What in heaven could they possible want now. Can't they just leave a woman to mourn in peace?" She rubbed her eyes tiredly, scratching her eyelid with her nail as she did so.
Tears instantly pricked her eyes, and she growled in frustration, reaching for a handkerchief with one hand the door handle with the other.
On her front step stood Raoul De Chagny and she nearly fainted with surprise and worry.
Raoul took in her appearance, she was distraught, and was dabbing the white silk at her eyes.
"Monsieur De Chagny, I'm sorry… Can I help you?" She said her voice shaking; she opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside.
He opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cried out louder. She bustled out of the room and returned a few moments later with Jacques in her arms.
"I am just about to feed him, please come in," She said briskly, tapping Jacques on the nose.
Raoul entered the house somewhat stiffly, his anger flaring, he managed to control his rage and said politely "I wish to speak with your husband, is he in?"
The glass bottle in Maria's hands fell to the ground, shattering in a thousand pieces.
Trembling Maria turned to face him, horror and distraught on her face.
Raoul lurched forward and bent down to help pick up the shattered glass "Forgive me, is there something wrong?"
Maria managed to regain some control and inhaled sharply.
"Monsieur, my husband is dead."
Silence greeted her.
"He was found…dead…last night, the doctors say… oh" Her voice cracked and she set Jacques in a small cradle, turning back to Raoul "They say he just died, a heart attack. I wasn't even there when he died…I was…I was feeding Jacques, he was hungry and Oh…" She started sobbing, her shoulders moving with the effort.
Raoul stood, feeling out of place and confused, awkwardly he rested a hand on her shoulder.
He watched as Maria managed to compose herself "It's odd. That my
Bernard and Christine… both…" She couldn't finish her sentence, but straightened her back and drew a deep shuddering breath.
"Perhaps it's best if you leave now."
Raoul turned towards the door, utterly confused by everything, calling out over his shoulder.
"I came to inform you my cousin has come to stay in my home for a few weeks, I have asked him to bring some of Jacques things, so that it might be easier for you"
Maria nodded "Of course, that's fine. Thank you."
With that her front door was slammed shut, and Maria and his son disappeared from sight.
Raoul gave a frustrated sigh and climbed into his carriage, his eyes never leaving the Lawley's mansion.
Maria was proving to be a very good actress, though he was starting to feel that she was not responsible for Christine's death, but defiantly involved.
He hoped that enlisting Erik's help had been a wise choice, but he hardly had time to think now. Everything was already in motion and a certain Meg Giry or…Thompson now, was awaiting his arrival in London.
He cast a final glance through the front window, where his son's innocent eyes stared back him, being cradled by a woman who appeared cold and uncaring, watching the carriage leave with an eerie interest.
The carriage had arrived at the Opera House, no earlier then nine the next the morning, with an anxious Raoul leaping out of it the second it was within ten meters of the stone steps.
Clutching to the small white envelope in his hands like it was a life line, Raoul entered the empty opera house once more.
Standing upon the staircase, mask firmly in place, was Erik.
Raoul smoothed his fingers over the envelopes edges, trying to forget of the last time Erik had stood upon those stairs.
It was nothing something he wished to remember, the first time The Phantom had graced the opera with his presence, seeming so in control, calm, cruel…
He was the opposite now, grief sagged at his shoulders, and his manner was not one of confidence.
Raoul could understand that and held out the letter, waiting for Erik to reach and take it. Erik did so with shaking fingers, and nodded thanks towards Raoul.
The two men fell into an odd step and when they reached the doors, Erik held back, ducking his head, as if afraid of the light.
Raoul was at a loss, he feared the man before him… Erik had tried to kill him! Yet, now he found himself trying to console him, and help him overcome fears.
He shook his head, wondering briefly what the world was coming for, then pushed the heavy doors open, and walked down the steps on his own, opening the carriage door.
If the driver had any questions regarding the strange masked man, or why he was being brought from a supposedly abandoned opera house, he showed no response at all, facing towards the front, reins in hand, as if this was an every day occurrence.
Erik raised his shoulders, pushed his fingers through his thick dark hair and strode to the carriage, and the Phantom that Raoul remembered was back in an instant.
The carriage ride was silent, apart from the noise of the horse's hooves clicking against the ground, and the soft bounces when the carriage hit a bump in the road.
When there were nearing his home, Raoul started talking at a fast pace, getting far more anxious with each round of the wheel.
"I have informed Maria Lawley of your arrival, inside that envelope has her address and any information you may need to know as a cousin of mine. You have free reign of the house, until I have returned, but Christine's room remains locked"
Erik would have smirked then, for it seemed as though the tables were turned. Now Raoul was in his element, and it was his home now, that was being invaded by the other.
Raoul pushed into his coat pocket and dug out a ring of keys "These unlock the front door, and all the rooms with locks on them." As he spoke he removed one of the keys and slid it back into his pocket.
Erik noticed this but said nothing, guessing that the key was for Christine's room. No matter, if he wanted to get into the room, not having the key wouldn't be a problem. He didn't see the point in bringing this up, so he kept quiet.
He was slightly surprised when the carriage came to a halt and the door was held open by the driver, staring at everything and anything except
Erik.
This angered Erik to no end, but he focused on the matter at hand and followed Raoul up the marble steps of his home.
Raoul muttered a quick farewell, handing him a slip of paper with Meg
Thompson's address in case he was needed, before climbing back into the carriage and rounding the corner, leaving a slightly bewildered Erik alone.
Once inside the large house Erik inspected every room, every corner, imagining Christine with a smile on her face entertaining guests in the living room, or descending the stairs in the main hall.
Every where he looked he saw her, her angelic face, smiling at him, and fluttering about.
On the second floor were the bedrooms, he ignored the guest rooms entirely for now, and cast only a glance into Raoul's room. When he saw the only closed door of the house, he knew that it was hers.
He approached it cautiously, yet, enthralled, drawn to it like a moth to a candle.
His hand reached out slowly for the brass doorknob, his fingers curling about it and turning.
The door opened easily, surprising him. Hadn't Raoul said it was locked?
It didn't matter, taking a step forward Erik entered the room that could have belonged to no one else but Christine. Instantly an image of his angel writhing in pain, her fingers clutching at the snow white sheets, her eyes clenched shut, tossing and turning.
He backed up against the wall, his own eyes wide with horror.
There she was again, in the corner, her eyes blank and emotionless, and her silk gown billowing about her figure. She reached out her arms, moving forward, each jerky step after the other, as if she did not control her own body.
He shut his own eyes, sinking to his knees and holding his head.
When he could no more movement in the room, he opened his eyes, relieved to find it empty.
He rose to his feet and started for the door, beginning to see just why
Raoul told him not to enter the room.
Something brushed past his back and he spun around, coming face to face with Christine, her hands clutching at a silver knife, plunged deep in her stomach.
She stared at him, mouth open, and tried to free herself from the knife. "Erik….Erik….You let me die!" She screeched before fading into nothing.
Erik let out his own cry then, and pushed his way out of the room, in the hall and finding himself backed against the wall.
"Hello? Monsieur?"
Erik's head jerked to the direction of the voice, instinctively reaching for his lasso.
"I'm here to pick up some of Jacques things; Raoul said you were taking care of the house for him. It's a very nice thing to do, the poor boy, loosing his young wife."
Upon reaching the top of the staircase Erik realized with a shudder that this was Maria Lawley.
She stood at the door, a small child resting on her hip, dressing in emerald green, her hair swept up out of her face and a look in her eyes that Erik found familiar.
He gathered his wits, banishing the thoughts of what he'd just encountered and descended the stairs a false smile on his face.
He was playing a part, and he'd do best to remember it his conscious mind screamed at him.
"Mademoiselle," He said upon reaching her, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her gloved knuckles swiftly.
She didn't seem affected by his mask at all, and smiled sweetly "I am
Maria Lawley, please call me Maria though. I could never stand formalities. Oh and I'm not sure if you've met this one, but this is Jacques." She bounced the boy on her hip and Erik smiled.
He looked so much like his mother with dark curls and innocent blue eyes.
"I am Erik," was all he offered, but she made no objection.
"Well Erik, As I said, it is very kind of you to do this for Raoul, he did need to escape the memories in this house."
Erik just nodded, his smile was a strained one, and he was not entirely used to it, although he supposed until he figured out what he needed too, he'd have to learn to smile easier.
"Oh yes, I'm here to get a few things of Jacques, see… my husband just recently passed away and I haven't been able to bring myself to enter his room just yet…"
Erik's started to pay better attention. Her husband was dead? Either Raoul had forgotten to inform him of that fact, or she was lying.
He hoped for Raoul's sake that she was lying.
"And …well Jacques bag is in the room…I know its silly." She had a faint smile, and then snapped herself out of her thoughts.
"I'll go and get the things I need, no need to trouble yourself" She pushed past him without another word and disappeared up the stairs.
When she returned a moment or two later, a bag in her arms, Erik wondered curiously exactly what it was she had gotten.
As if reading her thoughts she juggled the bag in her right hand, holding tighter to Jacques with the other "just a few toys, clothes and other things. Thank you." She took a step out the door, and then paused as if considering something, then turned back again.
"Erik, would you like to join me for dinner in a few days… I had a dinner part planned, but…" She lowered her eyes and then raised them again "I wasn't expecting my husband to leave me on my own so quickly." She said lightly. Erik could sense the sorrow which lay underneath her words.
"You seem intelligent; it might be nice to speak with someone who doesn't reply with 'Did you hear about.' It's alright if you don't wish to attend, but I would rather like it if you did." Erik seemed to ponder this for a while, knowing that this could be the chance to get closer to her, but a room full of socialites was not exactly what he wanted.
He once again forced a smile to his lips "Of course."
Maria smiled and turned her head at an odd angle, studying him "I shall send a carriage for you on Tuesday then, Good day Erik."
When he was once again alone in the house, Erik let the smile drop from his face and making his way to where he'd seen several guest rooms, quickly chose the one farthest from Christine's room.
He willed the ghosts to let him be, and despite the sun still being out, he drew the curtains plunging the room into darkness, and found himself in a restless sleep.