Author's Note: Three chapters in a row; everyone belongs to me!
Patron of the Opera – Chapter Twelve
January 4, 1881
Despite the crisp and frigid wind that blew through the shacks and stalls along the Seine, the stench of animal entrails suffocated the noses of the people that passed through the streets. Butchers with their blocks soaked in blood were scattered on one side of the street while the fishermen were nearly buried alive in their piles of rotting fish-heads and bones. The sharpening of knives, the swings of mallets, and the harshly accented voices of the Parisian poor rang throughout the district.
In one of the makeshift shacks, two men could be seen bending over a pile of slimy fish innards as they prepared filets for sale to the upper class. One, who happened to be seated nearer to the stove, moved much quicker than the other. The second man, who sat far from the heat source and deep into the shadows of the shack, was shivering violently from the cold. His hands, heavily bandaged, were clumsy with the tools of his trade which more than once slipped from his awkward grasp. When his knife fell to the floor for a third time, his companion stood and threw the fish head which he had just removed at him.
"God-damned stupid Yankee! How the fuck canna it be so difficult for you to keep a hold on your knife? Where'd you learn to do this? Can you work at all? No! You're a useless ass, that's all you are. An absolute waste. More trouble keepin' you on than it's worth!" The other man shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
Enoch bent over awkwardly and tried to pick up his knife but the other man kicked it from his hand and then ground the heel of his boot into the injured flesh of the other.
"I'm expectin' you to get this job done. If it ain't finished afore I get back, you're done here without pay. Understand, wretch?"
Enoch nodded his head, his few teeth biting into his tongue to keep him from crying out with the pain. The other man kicked him once more and walked outside to the street, leaving Enoch on the ground trying to control the pain. Eventually, with his breathing restored to almost normal, he climbed back onto his stool in the corner and began working on the pile of carcasses in front of him, not even noticing that his hand had begun to bleed through the bandages once more.
The cloth door swung open and Enoch flinched, fully expecting the wrath of his employer. Instead, his bleeding hand was grasped in-between two brown woolen mittens. Looking up in shock, Enoch found the concerned face of Rose O'Connor standing before him. He froze and could only watch as she examined his bleeding hand with a frown.
"I thought that I had instructed you to take better care of this, Mr. Simmons. I suppose I should fetch bandages and clean this up yet again…"
He began to shake uncontrollably as she toyed with the bandages to see the extent of the damage. She finally let go of his hand and pulled up the stool where his employer had sat to his table and, arranging her skirts so that they would not become soiled, sat down across from him.
"I suppose you are wondering why I'm here and how I found you." She stated with a slight smile. "William did not tell me where you work, if that is what you're thinking. The footman, however, is one of my personal servants and few things are kept secret between us."
"But, why…why have you come?" Enoch stammered as she removed her hat and peeled off her mittens, tucking them in her handbag.
"Well, firstly I didn't quite understand your need to run off as you did that morning. Your hands needed a seeing-to and I would've liked to see if you were faring any better after a decent night's sleep. Lord knows if your lodgings are anywhere in this district, you haven't been able to get a decent rest in quite a while." Saying this, she grimaced at the sight of the shack and pulled her brown wool coat tighter around her to ward off the chill.
"And I was also intrigued as to why you were ashamed of what you do for a living; there's no shame in honest work, as distasteful as it may be. And I've never been one to shy away from honest work." With this said she stood, donned one of the extra aprons, resumed her seat and, in an extremely unladylike manner, decapitated one of the fish from Enoch's pile.
His eyes were wide behind his leather mask as he watched her make fast work of the fish carcass, laying the meat aside from the waste. She moved to take another but he laid a bandaged hand on her own, stopping her movement.
"Please…what are you doing?" He asked in horror. She shrugged off his hand and took another fish, scaling it and filleting it as she answered.
"I heard him tell you that you'd be dismissed if this wasn't finished. You won't be able to get all of this completed with hands like yours and so I'm helping you." She stated simply as she scraped her knife clean and began removing the tiny bones from the meat.
"My lady, please…this isn't your job. I…I appreciate your help but…"
"But what? Please keep in mind that I haven't always been a noblewoman; I lived in the slums for quite some time until the opera picked up enough for me to have my own funds. It would not have been the first time that I have done work like this."
"But, if he finds out…"
"How will he find out? Your boss is getting drunk again down at the café at the end of the street. Between the two of us, we should have this pile cleared away in no time and then you can rest those hands of yours. Besides, I don't understand why you continue to work for the brute. Surely there is someone here willing to work with you."
At this, Enoch hung his head in shame and muttered in a low voice "You've no idea how unwilling they are, my lady. It isn't good for business to take on a slow worker, especially if he has a face like mine…"
Rose's face reddened at that moment and betrayed her discomfort by gutting a fish more violently than necessary. She looked up at him and met his sorrowful dark eyes for a moment before returning to her work silently. Again Enoch hung his head, ashamed of what he had become, but then noticed that Rose had put down her knife and was staring at him intently.
He caught her gaze again and she bit her lip, almost as if she were embarrassed to voice her thoughts. She looked back down at the fish before her and went back to work before stating in a low tone "He told me about you, you know…"
"What?" Enoch asked in a strained voice.
"He…Enoch I mean, he told me about you. About why you worked as a soldier. That you had no connections, no family. He said you were a friend to him."
"He was a good man…" Enoch volunteered, extremely discomfited by this turn of events but remembering the good friend and comrade that he had found in the late Gregory Simmons. However, he could not for the life of him remember what he had written to Rose...
"Yes he was. And you were good to him; please don't think that I've forgotten. That's why I'm here, in a way…"
For the first time, Enoch sought out Rose's eyes to judge her expression. "What do you mean?" he asked guardedly.
She met his gaze and regarded him thoughtfully before answering. "You helped him a great deal; he wrote to me about you. He said that you had showed him the ropes, so to speak. And he wouldn't have wanted this to happen to you…"
Enoch's eyes darkened behind the mask. "I don't want your pity…"
Rose focused on the fish before her and shrugged her shoulders. "You don't have it. But you have my respect and as a man, you deserve more than this. Enoch would've wanted it that way and I agree. You know that his opera has been extremely successful; you've certainly had to hear by now. If it weren't for your intervention, it never would've been published. And I have made quite a profit on the initial investments…"
"I refuse to take your money…"
"I haven't offered it." Rose replied flippantly. "What I'm offering is very little, but hopefully enough to help you to make a life again. Surely you cannot be happy as a wandering laborer. And what is even worse is that there are several men in your position and even more women and children left behind with nothing and no way to support themselves. Due to recent events, I am going to have to stop my travels for a while but I want the opera to continue to be played. The proceeds are going toward a veterans' fund that I have started that will help those who need help to start a new life. I won't be able to oversee things any longer, but several of my servants and friends will and I'm asking you to join them. We need people who are willing to work, who are willing to help to make this happen. I'm asking you to join us; not for forever, of course. Just long enough to get yourself out of this lifestyle; the pay I'm offering for your help is quite good."
Enoch stared at her incredulously; this was hardly the form that he had expected her charity to take. "Then why would you offer this to a cripple? Surely there are hundreds of…"
"I need people I can trust." She quickly interrupted. "This work, Enoch's work, remains very dear to me. I don't want just anybody handling this. I need those whom I can trust. Enoch trusted you. I trust you. Please tell me that you'll help me…"
"My lady, I…"
"And if you say no, then at least let me talk to a fisherman I know here who can take you on. You've no idea how much it upsets me to see a man treat you like this…"
Enoch found himself speechless. Rose looked up at him briefly, but quickly put her concentration back on her work. After a few moments, she broke the silence.
"I do not need an answer right away and I understand if you wish to refuse. But please don't think of this as charity. I really do need the help and if you'd be willing…"
She finished with her last fish and scraped her knife clean on the table. Enoch had frozen, his eyes never leaving her form as she removed her apron and stood before him. She rinsed her hands in a nearby bin of water and shivered at the freezing temperature. Looking at him again, she laughed slightly.
"I don't know how you can stand these bloody cold temperatures, Mr. Simmons. Or perhaps you've already frozen through; you haven't moved in ages!"
Enoch started at that remark and returned her gaze a moment before asking in a low voice "What about the baron? Why won't he help you?"
"He already has, Mr. Simmons. I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for his love and support. He had given me everything that he is able to give and it's time for me to consider his needs now. He deserves a pleasant home and family; his life has not been easy either. I care very much for him and I believe that it is time to make something of that love. Heaven knows I did my best to ignore it as long as possible."
She walked away from him and stared at the fire burning low in the stove before muttering in a broken voice "I cringe when I consider what Enoch must think of me now; mourning for him and behaving like a child for these so many years…"
Enoch, who had looked down at his mangled hands with a horrible feeling of regret and shame, now lifted his head once more in shock at her words. The dim light from the stove illuminated Rose's face as tears ran down her cheeks and, with her half-frozen hand, she wiped them away angrily.
Slowly, Enoch dragged himself to his feet and carefully approached her. He took one of her hands in his and she looked at him questioningly but then hung her head in an attempt to hide her tears. Despite the state of his hands and his face, despite his handicaps and his inadequacies, Enoch took her slight form in his arms and held her tightly as she broke down into quiet sobs. He gently stroked her shoulders, whispered reassurances, and even pressed his masked cheek into her luxurious hair. The two stood together, both holding the other and marveling to themselves at how right it felt.
When her sobs had ceased, she still remained in the sanctuary of his battered arms. Forgetting himself, he pressed a light kiss into her hair and whispered to her "My dear Rose, all will be well…"
Rose stiffened in his arms once these words were voiced. She looked up at him suddenly; her watery eyes filled with pain yet shock. She reached toward his face slowly and in a disbelieving voice, she quietly said "My God…for a moment I could have thought…I almost believed…"
She shook her head as if to dismiss the thought and gently pulled away from him. She still stared at him in shock while he stood before her, half willing her to come to the conclusion that was forming in her mind and half dreading her discovery of the truth. She moved her lips as if to say something but seemed to think better of it and merely wiped her eyes. Enoch could see her erect her façade of calmness and control and within seconds, not even her emerald eyes betrayed the conflict of emotions going on within her soul.
"I apologize, Mr. Simmons, for my behavior. I'm afraid my emotions have been in turmoil as of late; there's just too much excitement for a woman such as myself. Back to our prior topic of conversation, I really would like an answer from you."
"My lady, I need time to think…"
"Oh, I know that you need time. It's completely understandable. When do you think that you might have an answer for me, sir?"
"My lady, I really don't know…"
"I have an idea" Rose interrupted, her eyes flashing with barely concealed excitement. "You are not planning on attending the opera, are you?"
Gesturing to his surroundings, Enoch merely replied "I'm afraid that the cost of a seat is a bit beyond my means."
"Then join my party on opening night. I've reserved several boxes on the grand tier for that evening and we can easily arrange for you to have a place."
Looking at her with something akin to pain, Enoch gestured to himself and said "I hardly think that I will make a welcome addition to your group. I'm afraid that I'm unfit for such appearances."
"Nonsense," Rose stated airily. "You are more than welcome to join me in my box but if you'd prefer more privacy I will arrange that as well. Box Seven was reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Lyle, old friends of William's, but Mrs. Lyle has been ill with a cough and so they didn't make the trip from London. We were just going to let the box, but you may certainly have it. Believe me, it's in a quite private location as they never rent the box to the left of it and Mme. Giry is responsible for patrons seated in that area. She's mercifully discreet and ensuring your comfort will be of no problem at all. Please say you'll join us."
"My lady…"
"Please, Mr. Simmons. I'd love for you to see this and for you to tell me what you think. I've been working toward this goal for nearly five years and I would love to have your support. You can tell me your decision then." Rose pleaded.
Enoch could no more resist her pleas than he could resist breathing. Quietly, he assented and she smiled her dazzling smile for him. Fishing in her handbag, she removed a handful of tickets and shifted through them until she found the one she was seeking. Handing it to him, she instructed him to arrive an hour before the performance at the patron's entrance so that his privacy would be ensured. Donning her hat and gloves again, she brushed off her coat and left him with a quiet farewell.
He resumed his seat among the fish carcasses, all gutted thanks to her deft hands and stared into the fire, wondering how he could ever have been so careless to have involved himself with her after so many lies.
A/N: Okay, so two updates in one week (the week before finals, to boot)… THAT is a sign of the apocalypse! This chapter was also a tad rushed and is shorter than the others but it merely is setting up for the next chapter which will be the opening performance of 'Czarina Catrina'. And in the tradition of all phantom phics, the opening performance of any opera normally is accompanied by a climax or major plot twist. Needless to say, the next chapter won't be up until the finals are finished since I'm intending for it to be a big one…
Anyways, I'd like to thank loyal reviewers Olethros, Neshomeh, and Lil Shady for bearing with my absence and for your reviews. Your support is precious to any author and it made my day to see that you enjoyed my continuation of this piece. Thanks!