A/N: I apologize for the long wait. I think there will only be one more chapter to go, the way things are looking, perhaps two. I will let you know when we have reached the end of our journey either way.
I apologize for not including my usual review replies. I recently received an email telling me that is no longer allowing them. I do not know for sure if this is true, but the possible penalties were described as suspension from the site or having your story removed. I knew we were nearing the climax of our story, and I don't want to deprive you of the ending, so I will with great grumbling, refrain from my usual replies. Just know how much I appreciate each and every review. I have sincerely enjoyed our many conversations. And please continue to review. I still love reading them, even if I can't reply to each of you directly as I might wish. Anyway, you have waited long enough. On with the story...
Ch. 26 – A Desperate Flight
Rehearsal that afternoon was the longest Christine had endured so far. Signor Giraldi was a genius, but the conductor was also a perfectionist, pushing the cast to greater and greater heights until he was at last satisfied, and then moving immediately on to the next piece. Christine was exhausted. Her pregnancy seemed to be sapping her strength and she found her mind wandering during Giraldi's longwinded reprimands of her tenor counterpart.
After her conversation with Marguerite earlier, she had once again been thinking about how she could somehow explain things to Erik. If he had understood her hidden meaning in the letter, he would surely have arrived by now. Perhaps she could send him another letter secretly. This thought died in her mind, however, when she locked eyes with a familiar short stocky man leering at her from the corner of the stage.
Marguerite had told her the man was a stage hand, but Christine had noticed him watching her unusually closely over the past few days. Every time she turned her head she seemed to see him watching her no matter where she went. She might never have thought anything of it, for she was quite accustomed to receiving regarding glances. But when she had seen the man for the second time in as many days at a corner table in the cafe where she and Marguerite had been having lunch, she came to realize it was not by coincidence. She had no doubt now that Raoul was paying the man to keep an eye on her and to report to him if she made any attempts to flee or to warn Erik in any way of her plight. The idea of a letter under such circumstances would be far too dangerous. She couldn't risk Raoul finding out she had violated their agreement and sending Jacques and his thugs after Erik while he as of yet remained unaware of the danger. Her resolve to fight for their love remained strong, but she was not willing to chance Erik's life in order to do it.
She continued to consider her options. Perhaps she could escape in the night from the window of her dressing room. She had already given up all hope of ever singing again at La Scala. Either Raoul would take her away or the scandal of her life would break forth and force her to resign. And anyway that dream was becoming more and more insignificant in her mind. All she really cared about anymore was finding Erik, making certain he was safe, and raising their child together as husband and wife. Yes, she decided, her best chance would be to escape and warn Erik herself. By the time anyone noticed her absence, she would be in his arms and together they would decide what to do. Resolved, she launched into her aria on cue, singing with newfound joy at the thought of being reunited with Erik even for a moment.
The dark figure watching from the rafters above could not help but soften at the sound of her angelic voice. His grip on the rope loosened slightly and he wavered. Looking at the tiny figure below on stage, he realized that no matter what Christine had done, he could never hurt her. In his blind rage, he had wanted her to pay dearly for the pain she had once again inflicted upon him so cruelly. But staring down at her now and knowing she carried his child inside of her, he realized that if he harmed her he could just as well turn the rope to himself, for the guilt and sorrow of it would surely kill him.
Tears filled his eyes. Perhaps that would be best in the end for everyone. He would be free of his misery and she and the child would be free of him. He dropped his Punjab lasso in disgust, leaving it there in the rafters. No matter what he had done in the past, he could never kill the woman he loved, nor his own child. He was not that manner of monster. But neither could he live with the knowledge that another man had stolen his only chance at having a family.
Erik had made up his mind. He would disappear and he would end his miserable excuse for a life once and for all. He would leave no trace that the Phantom ever existed or Erik de Renoir for that matter, as he was really neither man anymore.
Christine was just finishing her aria when Marguerite tugged at her arm urgently.
"What is it?" Christine whispered.
Marguerite looked upset. "Christine, the vicomte is here. They are loading your trunks from the dressing room into a carriage outside," she whispered.
Christine looked stunned. "Why?"
"I do not know. But I did hear the vicomte talking to a dark-haired man just outside your room. He said, "We can delay no longer. Christine must leave immediately." After that, they started bringing out your things and the vicomte left to speak to Signor Romando about your immediate resignation." Marguerite paused to catch her breath.
Christine's mind was racing. Raoul would be here any minute to take her away to France and then what would she do? She hadn't planned on leaving until nightfall, but with this new development, she realized it was now or never. She had to escape.
Christine thought for a moment, and then signaled to Signor Giraldi. "Signor, I am not feeling well. Do you mind if I take a short rest?"
Signor Giraldi graciously extended his arm in assent. "Of course, signora, your voice is perfection. Now Signor Renault, on the other hand..." He once again launched into another of his long reprimands and Christine seized her chance.
Dragging Marguerite by the arm, she pulled her as far away from the stocky man on the other end of the stage as she could manage. "Marguerite, is there any other way out of the opera house? A back way, where no one would see me?"
Marguerite looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes. Back down the hallway to the dormitories. There is braided rug, and underneath a trap door and a hidden tunnel. The ballet rats use it to sneak out and meet their suitors after the ballet mistress is in bed. It will lead you into the alleyway behind La Scala. Take my cloak. It is hanging in the hallway. The train station where you arrived is about a mile northwest."
Christine looked surprised at the girl's willingness to help without question, but she silently thanked her lucky stars for such a clever and resourceful friend.
"Marguerite, there is one more thing I must ask of you before I leave." She whispered something in the girl's ear and Marguerite gave a sour look, but nodded.
"Will you let me know you are alright?" she asked quietly.
Christine felt saddened that she would be leaving another good friend, but she had not time to dwell on it at the moment. She laid a hand on the girl's arm. "Thank you, Marguerite, for everything and I will write to you as soon as I can."
Christine smiled sweetly to the conductor and sat down, taking a chair very near to the rear stage door. Marguerite, meanwhile, made her way casually over toward the stocky stage hand on the other side of the stage. She made an elaborate show out of stretching rather suggestively right in front of him and then assured she had his attention, struck up a lively conversation, flirting shamelessly. When Christine was certain that the man was otherwise occupied, she at once slipped silently out the door.
Erik had caught the exchange just as he had been preparing to leave. He watched the ruse below him with a puzzled expression and noticed Christine slip out the door. He turned to follow her, but heard a commotion behind him on the opposite side of the stage.
The Vicomte
Erik's eyes narrowed and he stepped back over to retrieve his Punjab lasso. Perhaps he would have use for it after all.
"Signor, I am the husband of Signora de Renoir and I am afraid I will not allow her to continue in this production in her condition. We are expecting a child, you see and..." Raoul looked around, as if just noticing that Christine was not there.
Signor Giraldi looked startled, but he found his voice. "But Signor, the production, it begins in less than two weeks. Wherever will we find anoth..."
Raoul made a gesture of impatience. "Signor that is not my problem. My wife is my concern. No where is she?" He looked about him expectantly at the many faces.
Marguerite stepped forward. "She was not feeling well, Signor. I believe she headed back to her dressing room to rest. You must have just missed her." She did not waver under his suspicious stare.
Raoul nodded and turned on his heel, a number of armed men following him back down the hall the same way they had come. Marguerite released a deep breath of relief. Christine had gone the opposite direction. With any luck, she would be on the train before the vicomte's men could make a thorough search of the extensive opera house.
Erik did not even wait for the vicomte to finish his questioning of the cast. He was already making his way easily through the maze of rafters, moving quickly like a jungle cat in the same direction Christine had gone. His dark figure disappeared down the long hallway.
Marguerite followed the vicomte and his men out into the opposite hall. She watched him enter Christine's dressing room and then emerge moments later with a look of noticeable concern on his face. He immediately motioned to one of the men. "Find her. Search the building. If there are any passageways, or rooms that are hidden beneath the main levels, search those first." The man nodded and the group dispersed weapons at the ready.
One man remained behind. It was the same dark-haired, sunken faced man she had observed talking to the vicomte moments before. Marguerite slipped closer, flattening herself up against the wall so as not to be seen. She had to know what they were up to.
"It was wise of you to hasten your departure, Vicomte. I am sure you see now why I felt it necessary to alert you of the Comte de Renoir's arrival in Milan. And I am certain you will agree under the circumstances that promise or no, you must allow me to dispose of him."
Raoul nodded. "Indeed Jacques, I should have listened to you from the beginning. Once Christine is in my possession, feel free to exact any punishment that you feel appropriate on our mutual friend. He has been a thorn in my side for far too long."
Jacques grinned, an evil glint coloring his eyes at the thought of his long awaited revenge. "Perhaps you and I should join in the search, Vicomte. We would not wish for either of them to escape." He withdrew from his belt a pistol and a long knife.
Raoul looked a bit pale, but drew his own pistol as well. "Indeed. If I know this creature, then he will find somewhere to hide, somewhere where he is at an advantage. He is cunning and quick and he moves without a sound. We must be prepared for him to be merciless. Shoot the moment you have clear aim, for he will not give you a second opportunity." The vicomte looked suddenly weary and old beyond his years. His eyes were determined, but empty, as if he harbored little hope his errand would meet with success. "We should consider ourselves very fortunate if we somehow manage to escape this encounter alive." His mouth set in a grim line, he turned and set off the down the hallway leading away from Christine's dressing room, Jacques following closely at his heels.
Marguerite took a deep breath, and tiptoed silently behind them in the shadows. She had to find a way to warn Christine.
Erik watched from behind a column as Christine tugged on a cloak and glanced around her fearfully before pulling aside the braided rug and lifting the heavy trap door. She disappeared beneath it, pausing only long enough to reach a hand up and pull the rug back over to conceal the route of her escape.
Erik waited a few moments, then disappeared beneath the trap door as well. He was starting to realize that something was not as he had originally surmised. Rather than running away with the vicomte, Christine seemed to be fleeing from him. He followed her stealthily down the dark passageway, leading into the bowels of the theatre. As soon as they reached a place where he could safely corner her without fear of her screaming, he intended to get the answers he was so desperately seeking.
Christine could see nothing at all in the blackness of the tunnel. She cursed her stupidity at not thinking to grab a candle from one of the dormitories. The cold stone was damp and she was afraid of stumbling and injuring herself or her baby. Finally, the passageway opened into a larger space. Squinting her eyes in the weak light, Christine realized she was in a large open room, filled with the hulking shadows of old sets and props from past productions. The only light was coming from a high grate in one wall where a bit of daylight managed to find its way into the gloom. She peered again into the darkness, searching in vain for the rest of the passageway that would lead her up to the street above. But to her dismay, she realized she could not see any passageway at all, other than the one she had come from. She must have missed a turn somewhere.
Christine turned quickly to retrace her steps, but felt herself bump into something solid and immediately a gloved hand captured her mouth. She attempted to scream in surprise as she was pulled tightly against her captor with her arms pinned at her sides, but a familiar scent at once met her senses.
Erik!
Christine leaned her head back against the reassuring wall of his chest and ceased to struggle. Thank God! She thought wearily. Erik was here. She could explain her plight and all would be well at last.
When he felt her relax in his arms, Erik released the hand from her mouth and turned her to face him. Though the light was dim, he could see that there were tears in her eyes, and as he released his grip, instead of running from him, she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh Erik, I thought you wouldn't come. I thought you would hate me terribly and I would never be able to explain to you...I have missed you so much." She was sobbing against his chest now, and Erik stood in stunned disbelief.
He reached down to take her chin in his hand, tilting her tearstained face up to meet his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. "Christine, you do not wish to leave with the vicomte?"
Christine shook her head vehemently. "No, oh God Erik, no! He was here when I arrived at La Scala. He had a man named Jacques with him and he threatened to have you killed if I did not agree to return with him to France and marry him. I was watched at all times, and I had no way to warn you...I am so very sorry for the pain I must have caused you, Erik." Her hand reached up to touch his unmasked cheek. "There is nothing more I want on this earth than to be your wife," she said softly.
Erik felt tears on his own cheeks now. He laid his forehead against hers and they stood there like that for a moment, both reeling in disbelief at being in the other's arms once again. Erik suddenly remembered her secret smile at rehearsals. He lifted his head, and when her eyes met his once more, he asked quietly, "I have to ask you, Christine. Are you carrying our child?"
Christine nodded, fresh tears shining in her eyes. "Yes, Erik."
Erik felt his heart would leap from his chest. "And you were not planning on raising it as the de Chagny heir?" he asked cautiously.
Christine shook her head vehemently. "Raoul did. He thought it justice for my unfaithfulness and repayment for what he believed you had stolen from him. But I had already resolved that I would never allow your child to be brought up in his home. No matter what I would have had to do, I would have found a way to return to you."
Erik wrapped her lovingly in his arms, pulling her close. "I love you, Christine. I am so sorry I ever doubted you," he breathed the words into her hair. Relief and love washed over him, and he forgot for a moment the danger behind them.
But all at once, Erik heard the sound of far off footsteps from the direction of the passageway through which they had come. He pulled Christine back, out of the light from the grate above. Silently, he led her behind several large set pieces. Tucking her into an out of the way corner, he laid his cape over her and his eyes searched her face in the darkness. "Christine, we have been followed. I doubt they will show any mercy to me, but if it is your wish that I spare their lives, than I shall. If either of them makes any attempt to harm you and the child, however, I will dispose of that man mercilessly and without regret...and that includes the vicomte." He awaited her reaction, his eyes never leaving her face.
Finally, Christine looked up at him, her eyes sincere. "Erik, I would never think any less of you for defending your own life." She raised her hand to cup his cheek and kissed him tenderly. When she drew back at last, she held his eyes, "I love you, Erik. My concern is only for you and our child. Anyone who threatens our family deserves death...including the vicomte."
Erik nodded. He kissed her gently on the forehead. "I love you, Christine, and our child. If anything should happen to me, Porto Dell' Angelo and everything I have is yours. I have seen to that long ago. Nadir is there. He is a good man, and he would help you to make a life for yourself and the child. Know always that I am with you, if not in body, then in spirit." At his words, Christine looked suddenly frightened. She had never heard Erik talk this way about dying before, and it unnerved her. She wanted to call him back and convince him to escape with her before any blood could be shed, but he had already disappeared into the darkness.
She closed her eyes and hugged her knees to her chest, praying with a fervor that she had never known before. God, please protect Erik. Let him have a chance at happiness at last. Grant him the family he has never known. Forgive him his sins and watch over us in this hour of darkness.
She knew from past experience that she could not trust in Fate to deliver them. Now her only hope lay with God.
