It was not until a couple of hours later in the evening when she put in an appearance at Erik's apartment. A smirk imprinted on her lips…
For some strange reason, she could not wait to see his reaction, the look in his eyes when he saw her...
When she came through the door she faced just what she expected to find there. Christine lifted her gaze, which had been focused on the teaspoon she was using to rythmically stir the lemon tea she had been enjoying until then.
'I'm sorry for the delay, Madame…'. She observed with glee the flabbergasted look the other woman was giving her. 'But it was imposible for me to come earlier'.
The woman she had in front of her could not snap out of her astonishment. She wanted to make sure of what her eyes were seeing. She looked at Angeline up and down, analizing her garments.
No, that was not what had changed in her…
It was her hair, untied, which cascaded down her back in soft waves and looked rather similar to her own.
Hiding her obvious confusion for the sudden change of the girl, she smiled gently and finished her tea so that they could go out for their walk.
In that moment, Erik came out of his room. Christine and Angie stood frozen before him. His expression shifted to one of surprise when he saw the latter: her hair was not tied in a low bun, that was apart from the...
Everything dawned on him. She had waved her straight long hair so that loose curls hung now over her shoulders in a fountain-like way.
And she had done that on purpose, he had no doubt.
'I did not think you'd be here', her tone sounded triumphant for she had achieved her objective. 'I imagine you have much to do with your projects, so I'll take Christine for a walk around the town, if that's fine with you, of course'.
He tilted his head, feigning indifference but paying careful attention to every one of her movements. 'There's no objection on my part. It's a nice evening and I'm sure that Madame de Chagny is delighted at the prospect of that promenade'.
It was in those few seconds of tension in which both of them expected the other one to make the next movement in their dangerous chess game when she detected it at last. She had no more doubts about it. There must have been something going on between him and Angie before she came along.
And yet, she did not know what annoyed her the most, the fact of having realizad it that way or the obvious fact that the girl was trying to copy her looks.
'Well, then I suppose it would be better if we left now'. She decided to break the unconfortable silence that had fell upon them and walked to the door.
Christine was about to follow Angie's lead, a bit suspicious.
Why did she feel as if everything had suddently become some kind of competition?
Meg was readying herself to go out. Her mother had warned her about the dangers of leaving their home for too long after what had happened only days before.
But the arrival of that note which brought so many good news about her best friend had cheered her up exceedingly. Curiosity had made her ask her mother about the person who had written such a positive message.
The look in her mother's eyes was enough to give her some clue...
The angel of music had, once more, Christine under his wings' protection.
She smiled, reaching the door. It would only be a quick visit, but she wanted to know the place he had chosen as sanctuary this time. She would not dare go beyond the exterior façade.
She needed to know she was safe, though…
The long walk through the city had been pleasant but it was clear that a new tension had grown between them. Perhaps that action had been too obvious on her part but she couldn't care less. She did not mind letting her know that she had not been the only one to gain Erik's precious trust or even more.
If only she had not appeared…
A small grunt came out of her throat as she hung Christine's coat, now clean and dry, in the closet. Then, she heard the clank of something metallic falling.
She frowned and crouched on the floor to take it. God, it was an expensive ring... quite expensive. She looked in the inside. Would it have an inscription?
Raoul De Chagny et Christine Daaé
Along with the spouses' names, there was a date engraved in the gold. She stared at it closely…
The pieces were beginning to fall in the places she had not figured out yet. She had read and heard that name too many times. The Viscount, who had been murdered by revolutioners.
Was the woman they had taken in no less than a Viscountess?
Her mind was filled with memories of the place and circumstances they had found the woman. The portrait, the underground place she had been taken to by him that night...
Those rumours…
She had finally guessed the identities of both of them.
Angie put the ring again into the coat's pocket and left.
The bell rang in the residence quite insistently. Marie rushed to open the door.
'Sorry for coming without letting you know first', Maurice greeted courteously. 'But we've barely known anything about our mate Édmond lately. It's been days without news of him and more or so since the last time he graced us with information that could help our plans. That is making us a little anxious…'.
Marie lied, shaking her head. 'We haven't received news from him either, unfortunately. I suppose he'll come soon with fresh reports for you... What, why the asking? Has something happened?', she faked concern.
'No', frustration was clearly written on his face. 'It's just that we'd prefer not putting things off more than necessary, that's all'.
'I see. Well, don't worry, if he comes by, we'll keep you informed'.
He watched her with severe eyes. 'You'd better stay truthful to your word. This does not depend only on me'.
He abandoned the house and Marie only exhaled a sigh of relief after closing the door.
Sitting on a bench, Meg inspected the hostel from afar. It did not look great but good enough for sheltering two fugitives for quite some time.
She stood and started walking back home. Her absent-mindedness made her bump into someone else without nearly noticing. A young woman with coppery-hair and light eyes was assesing her with curiosity.
'Oh, excuse me...I apologize', she smiled. 'This always happens to me because I'm not looking where I'm going'.
Angie corresponded her politeness. 'Never mind. Mademoiselle, may I help you?'.
Meg hesitated for a moment. She could tell the girl, ask her if she knew... but discarded the idea in the end. Perhaps she would not have a single clue even if she explained everything.
'No, no… I was already on my way. Thanks for the offer, anyway'.
Angie nodded and Meg walked away after seeing her coming into the hostel.
Midnight was the most peaceful moment in his days. Sitting in his armchair, he leant his head on the backrest, trying to relax. He could feel all his muscles thanking him for that'.
He had endured too much tension in a very short period of time. And, to top it all, the same question haunted him merciless...
What was Angie trying to do with all that farce? Did she really think that she would be more attractive to him because she now had a hairstyle similar to Hers? She was very wrong if she really believed that the only thing that drew him to Christine was her physical appearance...
He smiled ironically
Poor ingénue…