III. Be my Guest

When he considered it, Raoul found that it had been absolutely necessary to send the servants away. This did not mean that he liked the idea very much, however.

He had been very clever, in his own opinion. When they had arrived at his family's city residence late this afternoon, he had gone in with the girls and proclaimed a free evening for all the servants, which they had found very welcome news. He only hoped that they would not grow suspicious, what with him and Christine first taking the coach to the Opera, then returning hastily to deposit the driver and the footman as well as a young dog back at home and pick up a bundle of things, mainly containing his revolver, only to hasten away again, with him driving himself, and on coming back bringing Meg along, who was still wearing men's clothes. But all of them had taken the opportunity gladly, and the information that Meg was going to spend the night in one of the guestrooms had been quite sufficient for them.

The next difficulty had been getting the Phantom into the house unobserved. In the end they had decided to have him climb in through the kitchen window, which he had surprisingly done with no arguing at all and an unexpected amount of grace while doing so. Leaping in from the outer windowsill accompanied by half a snowdrift, he had somehow managed to convey the feeling that this was the most common and dignified thing on earth a man could do. Even the cook had grudgingly admitted him into her realm, and that was saying something.

Among the personnel, the cook was the only one who had stayed. Not that Raoul hadn't offered her a free evening, but she had refused to accept it, insisting that he and the two young ladies needed something proper to eat. She was a formidable woman, always kind, but she always got her way in the end, and Raoul had not wanted to argue, especially since she still saw in him a nice little boy she could stuff with sweets, and smack his bottom if he was not behaving well. Reluctant though he was to admit so, the cook still held a certain authority with him.

As for the Phantom, the cook had realized immediately who he was, but bringing home the very man whose name was all over the city's papers had only earned Raoul raised eyebrows from her. After all, he had always been allowed to bring all the playmates he chose. Now it had been quite clear to her why the maid who usually helped her in the kitchen had been sent away, and Raoul had hoped that she would pick the right substitute to assist her, yet it had turned out that there were certain limits to her ability of outstaring people, and she had chosen someone else to help her instead.

Which was why Raoul, after going out pretending to catch fresh air while in fact doing his best to cover up the Phantom's footsteps in the snow, had soon found himself laying out the table and peeling potatoes. Christine and Meg had immediately volunteered to assist him, though, and in the end the Phantom had been brought to cut up cucumbers and tomatoes, which Raoul had seen as a small kind of personal triumph, although it had, of course, been Christine who had done the persuading.

Now, after a rich and very enjoyable dinner, Raoul was up to his elbows in soapy water, washing the dishes, and regretting bitterly to have sent the maid away. He could have let the cook do the washing-up on her own, of course, but he would have had a bad conscience about it, and having Christine do it was absolutely out of the question. So he laboured in the kitchen, under the stern eyes of the cook, spurred on by the thought that the Phantom was currently alone with the girls in the living room. Not that Raoul expected him to do anything nasty as long as Meg was still around, but all the same, he did not like the idea at all.

And he would have to have a quiet word with him about a certain red mark on his fiancée's neck… The thought made him scrub the dishes with even grimmer ardour.

To be exact, he did not want that mad underground creature in this house. The trouble was that Christine seemed to be very concerned about the fellow, and moreover, it would not have felt right to just leave him to this sinister one-eyed man and his cronies, or to save him from the man only to leave him somewhere completely helpless, and with no idea where to go. It would have been honourless, acting like that.

The Phantom had not been exactly outgoing as far as his adventures with those people where concerned, yet he had given them some account of what had happened over dinner, and although Raoul had not quite understood part of it, it had given him reason enough to worry. A maniac with such powers unleashed upon the world? The Phantom was bad enough already! They had to do something about this Créon, he felt, and soon, before anything really bad occurred. But what? Just walk back down and kill him? Despite the Phantom's opinion, Raoul was no fool, and he had guessed before he had heard of Créon's powers that the rescue had somehow fitted into the man's plans, though it was impossible to say how. Trying to kill the man would hardly be as easy as getting the Phantom away had been.

Raoul sighed. This was definitely more than he had bargained for. All of his life he had hoped to find adventures, and this was also why he had decided to join the navy, yet he found that, due to recent events, he was quite fed up with adventures. If not for Christine, he would have longed to go back to his ship and spend all the evenings playing cards with the other young lieutenants, and have an altogether boring time.

At last his work in the kitchen was done, and after washing off all the soap bubbles, he, too, went to the living room, where he found everybody having a good time. The dog was lying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, contentedly gnawing a large bone, while Christine and Meg were sitting on the sofa, and the Phantom was occupying Raoul's favourite armchair, lounging in it as if he owned the place. The girls were giggling uncontrollably, and the Phantom, looking much better now than earlier on, was grinning. It seemed that he greatly enjoyed the girls' company. When he saw Raoul, he offered him an unpleasant little smirk for a greeting.

Raoul ground his teeth. The arrogance of him!

"Really?" Meg snorted, barely understandable because she was laughing so hard. "What did she say?"

"She was upset, wasn't she?" Christine giggled.

"Very much so", said the Phantom. He had discarded his cloak and was now sitting quite comfortably just in his shirt, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "She took personal offence at it."

"How can you take personal offence at broccoli?" Meg wondered, gasping for breath.

"Don't ask me. She can."

"But you have something to do with it, I suppose?" Christine suspected.

"Well… let's say it was me who threw the bowl in the first place."

This was enough to cause a fresh wave of giggles, and the Phantom wore an awfully smug look.

Raoul settled down comfortably in another armchair left unoccupied, with one leg draped lazily over the armrest. If the Phantom thought that he was the only one who could lounge, he should be shown otherwise! "What's that about?" he asked.

"Carlotta", Christine explained. Her cheeks were flushed from laughter, and she was looking absolutely lovely, in Raoul's opinion.

"Oh, I see." It sounded like there had been quite a funny trick played on the Opera Populaire's prima donna, but currently there was something else on Raoul's mind. "Now", he said, trying to convey the same sense of smugness he had heard from the Phantom when addressing his rival, "let's break you in to the rules. Number one, this is my house, so there's to be no women-chasing here. Number two, I don't hold with hypnotizing, or whatever it is you do to people. And number three, you don't leave such nasty red marks on my girl's neck."

The Phantom sneered at him, completely unimpressed. "Oh, really? Then it will disappoint you to hear that I generally don't abide by the rules. And the incident you're referring to took place in my territory, where I am making the rules."

"Now listen here", Raoul said grimly, sitting up properly for greater authority, "I didn't get you out of that fix you landed yourself into just for your own sake, but because Christine asked me to. Not that I expected any thanks from you, for that matter, but you might at least stick with general decency. I'll be glad to have you out of here, but until then you might take the chance to improve your manners."

"You listen to me, fop", the Phantom retorted. "I never asked you to meddle in my affairs, and I wouldn't have needed you, either, since I was perfectly capable of… well, never mind, none of your business." His brief hesitation was accompanied by a scowl, probably because he had realized just in time that this was a lie nobody was going to believe. "Moreover, I have very little patience today, and you're already straining it as far as it will go, so I'd advise you to drop the subject."

"You think I'm a fop, do you?" Raoul asked furiously. How dare he! "Some brainless idiot only concerned about his looks?"

"Boys…" Meg began tentatively, yet the Phantom paid her no heed, but smirked at Raoul instead. "Precisely my point. Though I wouldn't have expected you to get the message that quickly."

"See who's talking!" Raoul snapped, clutching the armrests to prevent himself from jumping at the Phantom's throat straight away. "You're so arrogant it's hardly possible, and you're a pervert trying to –"

"Enough!" Meg bellowed, and both men looked at her in surprise. "You're a nice pair of babies, squabbling like this when you need to stand together for once! The next thing I expect you to do is start a fight over who may sit next to Christine and then be surprised when she isn't impressed at your oh so very masculine behaviour! You're too old for this, for Christ's sake! Both of you!"

Raoul felt his jaw drop. Who was she calling a baby? Why did she include him? There was nothing he had done wrong, and it was perfectly right to point out to that foul creature of a man just what kind of fellow he was! A sharp retort was already on his tongue, yet he bit it back. There were things you didn't say to ladies, even if they were wearing men's clothes and had been waving a sabre until a short time ago.

Only then he noticed that Christine had clasped both hands over her mouth and was positively shaking with mirth. So she found that funny, did she? Funny indeed, Meg telling him off in front of the Phantom! This was no laughing matter, especially not for his fiancée!

But then he bit his tongue in annoyance at himself. He had no right to be angry at Christine. He had sworn that to himself. Even if she laughed at him, it was not his place to reproach her.

"So, now that is settled", Meg said firmly, "we might discuss the question of who sleeps where, and of tomorrow's breakfast."

"Quite your mother's temper", the Phantom stated sarcastically. "Always as gentle as a lamb, and never raising your voice."

"Oh, shut up", Meg muttered, a blush rising in her cheeks, and poked out her tongue at him.

"That's a good suggestion", Christine took over quickly, while the Phantom once again put on that arrogant little smirk Raoul knew so well and hated so passionately. "Meg, I think you can have one of the guest rooms on the first floor, and as for you…" She was regarding the Phantom with an expression of uncertainty.

"I'll be glad to take your threshold as a pillow, thank you very much."

"Which is the threshold to my room, just for your information", Raoul put in. He did not recall ever feeling so smug in his entire life.

The look the Phantom gave him was one of pure loathing. "Down here, then", he said icily.

"There are enough guest rooms…" Christine began.

"But you don't want the servants to find out that there's another guest here, now do you?" Even when speaking to Christine, his voice was cold now, and carried a tinge of cruel irony.

For a moment they all sat in silence, and Raoul promised to himself to lock the door to his room more carefully than ever before. But not even imagining to push a wardrobe against it made him feel comfortable. True, the Phantom was a guest, but Raoul had been reluctant and thoroughly unhappy to welcome him, and the idea of this madman lose somewhere in the house at night made him wonder if he should sleep at all, or if he had not better stay awake and keep his revolver handy.

"Sorry to bring it up again", Meg said at last, "but there's something I've been wondering about: How did those… Lost Ones get into the cellars in the first place?"

A good question. Raoul mentally slapped himself for not thinking of it earlier, as it might be essential as soon as they started working on plans about how to get rid of the lot.

"The sewers", the Phantom replied, and with the air of someone tired of explaining simple things over and over again. "There's an access close to where they made their camp."

"Bloody hell", Raoul muttered. Of course. This explained how they had managed to enter the Opera House unseen, and how they could have brought in all the supply goods a large party like this would be needing. And probably where they went to the lavatory, too. Simple, but brilliant.

The dog got up, yawned and stretched, then turned around itself two and a half times before slumping down again, comfortably curled up, and went to sleep. It was lying right atop the scorched patch on the carpet, Raoul noticed with glee. Maybe he could blame it on the dog? No, small chance of that, a dog would not play with fire, let alone try to smoke a cigarette. But he might still blame one of the servants, maybe. This was no exactly a decent thing to do, yet his mother wouldn't shout at a servant. It was highly unfair.

He stretched as well, a wide yawn straining his jaws. God, this was contagious. "I'm going to bed", he announced. "And I won't think of that whole Créon-and-his-wicked-cronies business until tomorrow morning." Heavens, what a glorious idea, just forgetting all those worries and crawling under a warm blanket, together with Christine!

What a pity that accursed Phantom was here to spoil it a bit.

"Right, sorry for bringing it up again." Meg got to her feet, also afflicted by the yawn the young dog had started.

"Never mind." Raoul was not surprised to see Christine yawn just as well. "Bedtime for all of us, I think."

Automatically his gaze shot over to the Phantom, who was the only one who had not moved at all, yet the way his jaw was clenched revealed that everybody's yawning was not leaving him entirely unaffected.

Well, he could remain sitting there all night, pretending he was not tired. Raoul did not care. He was going to lock the door tonight, and he was going to keep his sabre and revolver close at hand, just in case, but apart from that, he was going to get a decent night's sleep now. And he truly deserved it.