Chapter Ten – Wrath of an Assistant Manager

Underground Lair – Early July 2005

There is the sound of water moving, waking Christine up from the deep slumber she's been in. The bed feels unfamiliar. She opens her eyes, looking around. She's in a sunken pewter bed laden with deep red comforters. She's still in the clothes she'd picked out to go to dinner in from the night before, but she doesn't remember actually going.

Standing up, Christine finds her way out of the bedroom and catches sight of a man docking a gondola on the shore. She remembers now, remembers everything. "Bonjour, mon ange. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, Monsieur, I slept wonderfully." He steps out of the gondola and walks over her, taking her trembling hand and kissing it. Fright takes her and she cries to the man like a lost child. "Please, Monsieur, let me go back! Please! I have a show to rehearse for! Please," she cries, beginning to weep.

"Flattering child, of course you may go back," he whispers into her ear, taking her in his arms. "But I am warning all of those who are around you. I am watching you, watching them. Tell them that. Tell them that the Opera Ghost sends his regards and well-wishes." He gives her a sly smile and leads her to the gondola. "Let us get you back where you belong."

They get back to the mirror and Christine turns to the man, but says nothing. He touches his lips to her hand and nods, walking back down the stairs and into the darkness. Christine walks into her room and closes the mirror, just as the door crashes open. "Christine!"

"Missy!" The friends run to embrace each other, and, over Missy's shoulder, Christine can see Madame Garnier and Richard. "Oh, Missy."

"Christine! Mon chéri, what happened?" Should she tell them?

"The door got locked by accident. I stayed the night here- it's all okay, really."

"It's funny, Christine," Richard says. "We couldn't find the key. Someone must have locked it. We found it only minutes ago on the staircase, along with this." He hands Christine a piece of parchment, and she looks to read it when there are voices from outside the room.

"André! I'll have no more complaints! The two of them must not sing! They are not good! I have the charisma to be Christine, not Miss Landry!"

"Carla, she's already been trained and worked with. I couldn't bear to see all of that work go to waste."

"If she does not show up, I get the role! End of story!"

"Yes, Carla, that is fine!" The two managers walk into the room, and Carla nearly faints when she sees Christine. "Merciful heavens! Christine! Are you all right, Mademoiselle?"

"Yes, Monsieur Destler, I'm fine." She nods to the manager.

"Read it, Christine!" Missy says to her, and Christine looks at the letter, reading aloud.

"To the managers of the Paris Opera and any others this may concern; it has been my pleasure to meet your lovely lead soprano. I must say, her vocals are impeccable- do send my regards to her teacher. On that note, I order that under no circumstances should someone replace her, sickness or not. If she is sick, the show will be cancelled. That means you, Mademoiselle Granville. I wish you luck on your upcoming performance. Please leave box five of the theatre available for me to use at my disposal.

Your servant,

O. G."

Christine looks around at the other people in the room and they stare back at her with wide eyes. "That's all?" comes Carla's voice. Christine nods to her. "Well, if that is it, I think we can handle it." She turns to Christine. "Be warned, girl. You scare us like that again and you're ousted!"

"Carla, is that entirely rational?" André and Carla engage in a rather heated argument, walking out of the dressing room in a rage. Christine goes to Missy and embraces her tightly, Richard following to help soothe her. Madame Garnier, however, stands silently.

"He has returned," she says solemnly, and the three friends turn to look at her. "The Phantom of the Opera is back."

"Mama, it can't be true!" Missy shouts. "I won't believe it!"

"Missy, don't you realize what this means? History is revisiting itself. There is a budding starlet on our stage and he will not rest until she has the spotlight to herself. Let's all just pray there's nothing romantic for him to harp on." Christine looks at Richard, her eyes full of fright. "Now, Christine, let's get you ready for rehearsal. Richard, Missy, away with you!"

"But Mama…"

"Now!" Christine collapses on the lounge chair, and Madame Garnier goes over to her, caressing her back. "There, there, child. Tell me everything."

"Oh, Madame!" Christine throws herself into Madame Garnier's awaiting arms, crying into her shoulder. "He took me to his lair and…and…"

"Did he touch you, Christine?"

"Not that way," she replies, burying her head in Madame's shirt like she was her mother.

"Hush, child, hush," Madame says, brushing Christine's hair out of her face, smoothing it. "You can tell me anything, Christine. You know that." Christine nods, but she's afraid that Madame will ask for her to tell her everything that's gone on, and that she cannot tell.

2