Interlude:
A Letter to Mlle. Giry from Mme. Rousseau
Dear Meg,
Forgive me for not writing sooner. My only excuse is a terrible preoccupation with my husband. It is unforgivable.
I was so happy to hear that Raoul is well and moving on with his life. It eases my guilt so much to know this. I am glad to hear your friendship has continued.
My little family is faring very well, and, indeed, I am quite happily growing rounder by the day. Erik's child is, even now, rolling about within me to be certain I do not forget to mention her to her 'Aunt' Meg. I say 'her' because Erik seems certain it will be a girl, and I somehow feel he is right. It is so strange, this feeling, Meg. I cannot begin to explain it to you properly.
I confess to some anxiety over whether I will be a proper mother. I realize more everyday just how much of a child I, myself, had been before. I shudder when I think of what my childishness nearly cost me. I cannot imagine my life without Erik now.
I know he worries over my pregnancy, though he tries to hide his darker thoughts from me. We are both aware how cruel the hand of Fate can be, but I have faith that God will see us through whatever path He has chosen for us. Erik's faith is, understandably, weaker. But his hope is increasing daily.
His temperament has much improved these last months and I feel certain that it is entirely due to his contentment with our life. He can still be difficult, of course, he would not be the Erik that I love if he was otherwise. But he is becoming the man he was meant to be, and living with him has made me a stronger person, I think. Certainly a happier one.
I have Erik, our music, and our child. The only things missing from my life are you and Madame. But I feel certain we will see each other again one day soon.
Until that time, I shall be awaiting your next reply.
Your friend,
Christine
xXx
A Reply to Mme. Rousseau
Dear Christine,
I was so glad to hear from you. I miss you so, and I dearly need a friend to talk to these days. I would very much like to be there when your child is born. I know Maman is planning to come, and I hope to join her.
So much is happening here, I do not know where I should begin. I am certain you will remember our friend, Raoul, mentioning that the Opera was being renovated by a Monsieur Jean Ranier. That gentleman has quite brazenly come to call on me and offer me a position. I cannot tell you my surprise at such boldness. Especially when he invited me to dine with him.
As I am certain you can imagine, Maman was not pleased by either invitation. She is certain he is up to some mischief, and I confess I quite agree with her.
He is a very handsome man, however. And very charming. I suspect I would not be the first woman to succumb to his many appeals. I have not, as of yet, given in to his persuasions. At least, not about the opera.
A few dinners can hardly be considered succumbing, after all. Can they?
Oh, Christine, what am I to do? Jean seems determined to court me, and I am quite fond of his attentions. But I do not love him.
And I do not think he loves me, though it seems certain that he wants me.
And his wanting me has done wonders for my career. Monsieur LeCleur has given me a featured role in our next production, as he cannot abide the thought of losing any more performers to his business rival.
Jean has been quite adeptly stealing the best performers from all over Paris. He has even mentioned his disappointment at finding the Opera House devoid of its infamous ghost. It seems he had been looking forward to the Phantom's presence.
We would be having a grand laugh about this if you were here. Box Five is to remain empty, just in case.
Perhaps Erik might like his old job back.
I must leave off now, practice is due to begin.
Always,
Meg