Disc. Note: I'm using a song from 'A walk to remember', sung by mandy moore in this chapter, so all rights to the lyrics go to that. Its not mine!
Morning had arrived, yet morning had begun a lot earlier for Christine. She had awoken sometime in the night, full of bad dreams. She could find no comfort anymore from sleep. She had arisen well before sunrise, and had felt her leg had stiffened considerably. She tried to walk on it for a while, but gave up. She waited, sitting up in bed, till the sun awoke, and Nasih, who was snoring on the makeshift bed on the floor. When they had both got up and ready, they made their way down to the harbour, where their boat, Le Paon, was waiting. It was not as big as some of the boats in the dock, but there were a considerable number of people boarding it. Christine felt frustrated by the jostling around her, and even more by Nasih, who was clutching her arm none too gently as the walked up the busy gang plank.
"Monsieur, I would be grateful if you loosened your grip." She demanded angrily. She turned to him, and saw his face twisted.
"Pardon, Christine, Pardon, it's...just…." He stayed in the middle of the gang plank looking straight ahead, wringing his hands together. She had forgot, he had mentioned yesterday he had a phobia of boats.
"If it's any consolation, I have never been on a boat before…" She was thrust back to her memory suddenly, of her voyage under the opera house in the small gondola. She frowned. "Well, not as big as this anyway." He smiled at her, but his face kept its whitey green colour.
They waited around an hour on board before the boat finally left the harbour. They were waved off by children, who ran along side as it pulled out of bay. Christine had watched from on deck, but Nasih had retired to the cabins, preferring to see less of it all as possible.
Christine liked being on deck. She felt better with the sea breeze moving through her hair and soothing her head. She propped herself on the rail of the boat, looking back and watching Marseille disappear into the distance. She felt an overwhelming sense of sadness as she watched her beloved France leave her. She felt not despair, not grief, just sadness. Her memories of France where life altering, and although a lot of them were not good memories, she treasured them all the same. She felt the same as when she had boarded the train with Madame Giry 11 years ago. She had leaned out of the window in the same state of sadness, watching Sweden disappear forever, along with the days spent there with her father. Her father. This brought new tears as she remembered her fathers smell of sweet aftershave and pipe tobacco. She would snuggle into his lap as he told her stories of far off places, princesses and lions, dragons and slayers, polar bears and ice queens. Her childhood had been a place of magic, and being thrust out of them was like being thrown into a pool of ice water.
"Oh Lotty, where did you go?" She whispered to herself.
Her tears were silent, and they dropped into the rushing sea beneath her, but her heart was screaming from the agony it had been through. Christine was on deck for hours, discovering every inch of the boat, analysing what would be her home for the next week. She spent several days doing this, wandering around, talking to the crew and passengers. A lot of the crew had taken a shine to the young girl, and were more than happy to take her were none of the other passengers went. Even the Captain became a friend to her. One night, she sat with some of the crew, and some passengers in one of the large cabins, like a social room under the galley. It was very warm and cosy, and the choppy sea outside did not dampen the high spirits of those inside.
There had been drink and sing song all night, and Christine had felt the happiest she had been for a long time. She even laughed on occasions. Nasih was in deep conversation with another Persian, on his way to see his family after working in Normandy. Christine was sitting with another young woman, who was holding a baby tenderly, while 2 of her other children ran around happily playing chase. Christine smiled at the sight.
"You must be very proud." She said to the woman. The woman had a very plump, jolly face, and she smiled at Christine. Her accent was that of southern France, and Christine had trouble sometimes understanding her.
"Yes, yes, they are beautiful children! Wish I could say the same for their father, stupid brute." She nodded in the direction of a very large looking man, laughing heartily with some of the crew, swinging back dregs of ale. Christine giggled, and so did the young woman, whose name was Clementine. She had been chatting with the woman over the duration of the trip, and found the couple to be a very loving one. They often bantered about each others weight and looks, but Christine knew that they both had deep love for each other. She envied them.
"Hey, so where are you all off to?" Said one of the crew. Clementine and her husband told story of him finding a job in India, and it meant they had to move. Others told stories of jobs, families and friends. When it came to Christine, she looked at Nasih desperately. He intervened quickly.
"We're trying to find out parents. We heard rumours that they were staying in Persia after they were caught up in the Franco-Prussian war." He lied wonderfully. Christine and Nasih had adopted the story that they were brother and sister. Although they didn't look exactly alike, Nasih's fair skin complimented Christine's dark hair, and so could have been siblings. Everyone had accepted it, as it would have been unheard of for a man to be accompanying a young girl whom he had no relation to. It would have been very inappropriate. And anyway, Christine did not want to talk about who she really was, as no doubt, a lot of these people were from France and would have inevitable read in the newspaper about the scandal with the Phantom of the Opera. She thought it best not to say anything.
After stories were told, Nasih began a sing song. He sang a beautiful old Persian song, accompanied with other native Persian travellers banging their feet and boxes like drums rhythmically. One of the crew members offered a hand to Christine to dance, and after a bit of persuasion, she did. She thoroughly enjoyed it, dancing. She felt happy and light headed when she did, carefree. When the song was over, she slumped down next to Clementine, who sang next a very rude song about a farmer and his mistress. Christine felt herself go red at some of the things Clementine said, never hearing such crudeness before. There was a roar of approval after she finished, and claps on the back followed with laughter. Clementine turned to Christine.
"Hey Chris, you should sing us a song. Iv heard you humming, you know a lot of songs don't'cha?"
Christine looked worried. "No, no, I couldn't possibly. I'm not very good."
"Awww, come on Christine!" Said Clementine's husband. "Sing us a soft one, ready for bed type, y'know." Everyone cheered and snuggled down into the blankets and cushions that where on the cabin floor. She frowned and thought for a while.
"Erm…ok…Ill try. I will try to remember one."
Christine didn't want to sing. She felt sick when she attempted anymore, as it brought her back to her lessons. She thought of a song she could sing for them. Not one she had sung with him. Too painful. Then she remembered a song she had written herself. A simple song, while a haunting melody, she had wrote it…about him. But she had never sung it to him before, as she was too afraid. Maybe now was a good time for it.
"Ok, I have a song."
She closed her eyes for a moment, taking herself back to the time when she had wrote it, how she had felt. Confused mostly, yet she remembered, it was a time before Raoul had arrived, a time when her singing lessons were all that mattered, and all that mattered was…Erik. Her heart leaped as she finally accepted his memory. She burst into the song.
"There's a song that's inside of my soul.
It's the one that I'v tried to write over and over again.
I'm awake in the infinite cold.
But you sing to me over and over and over again.
So I lay my head back down,
And I lift my hands and pray, to be only yours I pray,
To be only yours, I know now, you're my only hope."
The cabin had gone completely silent, watching her, mouths slightly open. Even the children had settled in their parents lap quietly. They listened hypnotised to the beautiful girl with the angelic voice. Nasih was staring at her amazed and entranced.
"Sing to me the song of the stars,
of your galaxies dancing and laughing and laughing again.
When it seems all my dreams are so far,
Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.
So I lay my head back down,
And I lift my hands and pray, to be only yours I pray,
To be only yours I know now, you're my only hope.
I give you my destiny, I'm giving you all of me,
I want your symphony, singing in all that I am,
At the top of my lungs, I'm giving it back.
So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray,
To be only yours, I pray, to be only yours,
I know now, you're my only hope."
Christine took a sharp breath in of realization at the end of her song. She had been singing about how she had felt then, and more worryingly, she had just confirmed how she felt now. She knew now, that Erik was her only hope of her happiness being restored.