From Heaven's Mind

Chapter Five

Nadir had never gone car-shopping with a woman before. He made a mental reference never to again.

"Christine, this car is fine. Why won't you buy it?" He demanded. Christine looked at the car and frowned.

"I don't like the colour."

"It's a car. It will run, which is a definite improvement on your previous car. Please, just choose one." Nadir said exasperatedly.

Christine looked around at the array of shining cars. A salesman was watching the pair curiously. Nadir had already informed him that they would call him when they were ready. Eventually Christine pointed at a metallic blue car.

"That one's nice."

"What sort of car is it?" Nadir asked. Christine shrugged.

"Not a clue. But the colour's nice. Why? Is it not a good one?"

"It's a good choice actually. I was just wondering if you had any idea what you were about to buy." Nadir said in amusement, beckoning for the salesman. He scurried over, smiling widely.

"A fine choice, I must say. Now, if you'd like to come to the office…" He gestured to the small room.

Nadir looked at Christine.

"I'll sort this out. Why don't you go?"

"You're a lifesaver, Nadir." Christine smiled.

"Remind your husband of that. I could do with a raise." Nadir teased, following the salesman.

Christine hurried out to the car they had used to get there and climbed in. The driver, Thompson, nodded to her as Trister leapt onto the seat beside her.

"Where to, Mrs Destler?"

"Jameson Street, please." Christine said. It was Wednesday already and she hadn't seen her friends, other than Max, since she'd returned from America on Sunday.

Max sat on the sofa in the living room, tapping away at his laptop. James had asked him to finish up a basic report to send to the papers, just a little something to get them interested in the opera. Max hummed one of the songs from the opera as he worked.

He'd been amazed to get the job. Someone with as little experience as him shouldn't have gotten a position this good. Perhaps it was my dazzling personality he thought dryly, correcting a sentence. His mobile began to buzz and he glanced at the caller ID. Cara… Max grimaced but didn't answer. He wanted to get this finished before he risked talking to her. So he steadily ignored the buzzing. When Cara finally gave up he turned the phone off altogether.

There was a knock at the door. He'd left it open because the weather was so hot and Christine came in without waiting for a reply.

"Hey Max." She said, smiling. "Still working?"

"I've been commanded. James wants this first thing tomorrow morning. Give me five minutes and I'll be right with you." He promised. Christine nodded and sat down with Trister, scratching his belly as he rolled onto his back.

A few minutes later, Max hit the save key and closed the laptop.

"Done. I'm all yours, baby." He winked and Christine smiled, rolling her eyes.

"OK, first of all – never call me baby. It's weird."

"What, Erik's never called you baby?"

"Can you really imagine Erik saying that?" Christine asked, lifting an eyebrow. Max considered for a moment and then shuddered theatrically.

"I did imagine it. It was frightening." They both laughed at that and Trister pushed his nose into Max's hand, searching for attention.

"So, are you busy?" Max asked.

"Nope. Nadir and I were just getting a car. I think it nearly killed him."

"Want to get a coffee? Cara's been calling and I'm keen to avoid her." Christine gave him a stern look.

"Max, stop torturing the poor girl. Either break up with her or get with her. Don't lead her on. It's not fair."

Max sighed.

"I know. You're right…"

"So what are you going to do?"

"Have coffee. Coming?" She rolled her eyes but nodded, clipping Trister's leash to his collar. As they made their way to the café, pausing now and again so Trister could sniff at a particularly interesting lamppost, they animatedly discussed the opera. Their conversation turned, in time, to Rebecca who had become a most pleasant and agreeable person.

"I mean, if you'd told me two years ago we were going to end up like this, I'd never have believed it." Christine said, as they stopped outside the café.

"I know. What can I get you?"

Coffee in hand, they moved to the main street. It wasn't busy. Why would it be on a Wednesday afternoon? A few people passed by, some teenagers using their precious summer holidays to shop, a few families enjoying the sunshine. Trister sat patiently on the ground as they sipped their coffee, talking about nothing in particular. Eventually Christine brought up Max's least favourite subject.

"What are you going to do about Cara?"

"Not a clue." He said cheerfully. Christine pursed her lips.

"Max-"

"Christine, I stay out of your love life. So please keep out of mine."

"Oh, please! What do you mean, stay out of my love life? Who's the guy who kept hitting on me when we working on The Phantom of the Opera? Who's the guy who, at my engagement party, sang I Will Always Love You out of tune deliberately to annoy Erik? And who-"

"OK, OK! I get the message!" Max interrupted, with a grin. Christine poked his shoulder.

"So? What are you going to do?"

"Sing to her?"

"God, you're hopeless." Christine muttered. Max smiled sweetly.

"I do my best."

"Max?" They both twisted no the bench. Standing a little way behind them was Cara. Her eyes flickered uncertainly from Christine to Max. There was no doubt in what was going through her mind. Christine stood quickly, taking Trister's leash.

"Well, I'm going to go. I'll see you at work Max. Bye Cara." She hurriedly set off down the street. When she reached the corner, she risked glancing back. Max had stood and was talking rather awkwardly to Cara, running a hand through his hair. Christine shook her head before continuing on her way, dialling the number for the car as she went.

"Michelle, I want that song perfected by Friday. Is that understood?" The singer nodded, rather nervously. "And Carol, three of those dancers were out of step. Three. One is bad enough!" Erik shouted, stuffing things into his case.

Tony glanced at the array of performers. All of them looked morose. It had not been a good rehearsal and Erik was distinctly annoyed about that fact.

"Mr Destler?"

"What?"

"Why don't we wrap up for the day? I don't think we're going to achieve anything here." Tony suggested. Erik looked at him sharply and then nodded.

"Fine."

Tony signalled for them all to leave and looked at his employer.

"I guess that could have gone better."

"You think so? This Opera opens in four months. On January 1st those curtains are going to open and people are going to expect a perfect show. I've worked with university students who acted more professionally than they did today." Erik hissed, gesturing at the stage. Tony shrugged.

"People have bad days. They'll be better tomorrow."

"They had better be, Tony. Do whatever you want to get them ready. Because if I get a repeat of today, I may just go completely insane." Erik said, lifting his case. "Be here early in the morning."

Erik walked home, scowling at people in the street and punching the button that would take the elevator to his floor. Once there he threw the case onto the table and glared at it. What a nightmare… at this rate they'd never be ready. He growled furiously and went to take a shower. But before he'd reached the bathroom, the phone rang. He let the machine get it, turning the water on. The pounding hot water helped to soothe some of his anger. Once he'd changed into comfortable clothes and put on some calming music, he pressed the play button on the machine.

Hi Erik, it's Christine. I guess you're not back from work yet. Just calling to see how things are going and to say I love you. Call me if you're not too tired. If you ARE tired, go straight to bed and call me tomorrow. I know what you're like, so don't try and fool me.

Erik laughed.

Talk to you soon. Love you. Oh, and I got a new car! Don't ask for details, all I can tell you is that it's blue. Nadir'll be able to tell you about it. Bye.

The message ended and Erik reached for the phone. He waited as it rang and one of the servants answered.

"Destler Residence."

"It's Erik Destler here. May I speak to my wife?"

"Of course, sir." There was a pause and a different, much more appealing voice spoke.

"Hello?"

"I'll never be too tired to talk to you." Erik said, with a smile. Christine laughed. Even over the tinny connection her laugh was beautiful, he noticed.

"So, how's yours going?" She asked. Erik groaned.

"Oh, just don't ask. I'm this close to quitting the entire thing."

"You don't mean that. I'll bet you're loving every minute." She said teasingly.

"I can assure you that I'm not. Tell me about your new car."

"It's blue. It runs. Seriously Erik, I have no idea what kind it is."

Erik smiled and Christine asked,

"What time are you arriving?"

"Hopefully at around six PM. I'll have Nadir send the car and I'll meet you at the house, I expect."

"I'll tell Thompson where I'm going to be. I might need to stay on late at the Opera House. Max, Stuart and I have a few ideas we were going to fire at James."

"Very well."

They chatted for some time, Christine mentioning Max's birthday party on the Saturday. It was more of a dinner than a party, so there wouldn't be too many people there, which Erik was relieved to heart. He didn't work well in crowds.

"Well, I'd better get some sleep. We're starting a new scene tomorrow." Christine said, reluctantly.

"Sleep well." Erik said.

"Goodnight. I love you."

"I love you too."

Placing the phone back onto the cradle, Erik sighed as he faced another empty evening.

It rained on Thursday. Christine pulled into her parking place at the Opera House and ran for the front doors, pulling her coat over her head. She brushed her clothes down and picked up her bag.

"Typical English weather." She muttered.

"Don't you just love it?" Stuart said, having followed her in. He ran a hand through his dark blonde hair, groaning as it began to fall out of the carefully arranged style. Christine's own curly locks were starting to frizz and they both started trying to tame their hair as they made their way to the theatre.

Rebecca and Max were already there, making notes in their scores.

"Good morning." Max said cheerfully. Christine lifted an eyebrow.

"Have you seen the weather?"

"Of course. But I have it on good authority that it'll be blazing sunshine on Saturday."

"And why would I care about Saturday?" Christine said, in a falsely innocent voice. Max shrugged, grinning in spite of himself.

"Oh, no reason in particular."

"It wouldn't happen to be an important day of any kind, would it?" She enquired. Max tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Well, let's see… I've got an appointment in the morning…"

"Erik's coming home tomorrow…"

"I've got it!" Max snapped his fingers. "There's a film on TV that I wanted to see!"

Christine laughed and poked him in the ribs.

"How old are you turning? Obviously not old enough to behave like an adult!"

"I'll never grow up. And you should be grateful that I'll always be around to remind you of your youth." Max winked.

There banter was cut short as James came in, carrying a pile of paper. He dumped it on a chair and smiled brightly at them.

"Morning guys. OK, let's get started on warm ups and dive straight into the first act. Max, have you finished that report?"

"It's in your briefcase and I contacted a friend who's in advertising. She's going to make up some rough posters for us." Max said efficiently.

"Good work, Max." James smiled. He looked at Stuart and Christine, who were both fussing over their hair. "When you've finished, get singing."

"Hey, I consider this a kindness to you all. Have you seen what curly hair goes like when it gets wet?" Christine said grimly. "It's not a pretty sight…"

Erik boarded the plane on Friday in rather good spirits. They had had a good rehearsal that morning. Apparently scaring the entire cast witless worked wonders and they had improved markedly. By the end of the flight, he was considerably less happy. He had been in the same seating area as three squalling infants, two fighting couples and a snoring elderly gentleman.

Thompson was waiting outside the airport with the car. A light drizzle was falling as they returned to the car. Erik asked,

"Where are we going, Thompson?"

"Mrs Destler said to pick her up from the Opera House, sir."

"Very well." He settled back with some paper work. Doubtless Christine would be wonderfully distracting for the rest of the weekend, so he may as well get some work done while he could.

James, Max, Christine, Stuart and Rebecca stood in the Entrance Hall to the theatre, talking amiably. Max, it turned out, was remarkably talented at directing and had come up with some rather impressive ideas. As they commented on the finer details of the plans, Rebecca checked her watch.

"Have a good weekend. See you Monday. Oh, and happy Birthday, Max." She handed him a wrapped gift with a smile before leaving.

Just then, Stuart whistled.

"Wow… nice car." They all looked through the glass windows and Christine's face broke into a delighted smile.

"Erik's here!" She dashed through the door, forgetting all about her bag and threw herself into Erik's arms as he climbed out of the car. He looked pleasantly surprised but hugged her tightly. After kissing him she grinned.

"How was your flight?"

"Unbearable." He admitted. "But I'm sure it will be worth it."

A slight pink tinge crossed her cheeks. Erik smirked and then noticed the three men standing in the doorway. Max grinned and handed Christine her bag.

"I think you'll need this."

"Oh, thanks Max." Christine said, slinging it over her shoulder. "Erik, this is Stuart McKenzie, the main male performer and James Pewter."

Erik noticed her watching him rather closely as she mentioned James. She was definitely suspicious. He shook Stuart's hand.

"A pleasure, Mr McKenzie."

"You're telling me. I've heard some of your work, Mr Destler. It's an honour to meet you." Stuart said. Erik nodded, but Christine noticed that he looked rather pleased.

Erik's eyes met James. The other man met his gaze for a moment before saying,

"Happy Birthday Max for tomorrow. I'll see you all on Monday." And he turned, walking to his car. Max and Stuart looked after him in surprise.

"Well… that was weird." Stuart commented before bidding them goodbye. Max nodded and then checked his watch.

"Better get going. See you both tomorrow."

Erik nodded, not speaking. Because Christine was looking at him shrewdly and he knew exactly what she was thinking. Before she could question him, he said,

"I'm hungry. I'm taking you out to dinner tonight."

"Really?"

"Yes. Let's get home so I can change." He hurried her into the car. As he was about to climb in, James Pewter's car drove past and Erik only caught a glimpse of the face behind the wheel before it pulled out of the car park.

Saturday, as promised, arrived in a glorious rush of sunshine. It was late afternoon and Meg was setting out the final touches to the table. Tom caught her around the waist and kissed her cheek.

"It looks great, Meg."

"It had better; I've been working on it for ages." She smiled, tweaking a fork to its correct angle before counting the places to make sure there were enough. "Max, Christine, Erik, Cara, two of Max's friends and you and me."

"What? Max has friends who aren't us? I'm appalled!" Tom said dramatically. Meg smiled and pushed his shoulder.

"Don't be silly. Where's Max?"

"Getting dressed. I'll get the door." Someone had just knocked and Tom pulled the door open. Cara smiled at him.

"Hi Tom."

"Hey Cara." He stepped back so she could come in and allowed himself a second to admire her. She was wearing a white shirt with a short black skirt and looked incredible. Max came downstairs a moment later and whistled.

"Wow."

"Happy Birthday Max." She smiled, kissing his cheek and handing him a present. Max grinned.

"Thanks Cara."

A moment later Erik and Christine arrived. Christine smiled brightly.

"Hey you! Happy Birthday!"

"Come on in guys. There's wine and other drinks in the living room." Max said. They went through, where they found Meg, Tom and Cara talking.

"Christine, Erik! What can I get you to drink?" Tom said. Christine looked around the decorated living room.

"This is amazing, Meg!"

"Thanks, Christine. Erik, how's New York?"

Whilst Erik and Meg spoke about the city, Christine went to talk with Cara, who was stood rather awkwardly by herself as Max opened the door to his two friends who had just arrived.

"Hello Cara, how are you?" Christine smiled. Cara returned the smile and shrugged.

"I'm fine. What about you? How's the opera going?"

"It's going well. Max put forward some new ideas yesterday, I was so impressed."

"He loves it." Cara said, with a faint smile.

Christine sipped the wine that Tom had handed to her and asked curiously,

"How did you and Max meet? And when?"

"Five weeks ago. Mutual friends, we were at a party and we started talking. What about you? Max never said how you met."

"We were at university together. But we never really spoke until the end of our second year. We got the main parts in a show together, The Phantom of the Opera." Christine explained. She wasn't about to tell Cara that Max had asked her out on several occasions. She didn't think that would go down too well.

"Really?" She seemed interested. "I heard about that. I didn't see the show though; I was away when it was performed. But Max never mentioned it."

"I don't know why. He was the Phantom, Tom was Raoul and I was Christine." She said.

Cara smiled.

"I'll have to ask him about it!"

"You should. He was amazing in it." Christine said. Max appeared beside them.

"Yes, I know I'm amazing. Which particular moment were you referring to?" He grinned.

"The Phantom of the Opera. Why didn't you tell me you were in it?" Cara demanded. Max smiled and shrugged.

"I guess I'm just shy." They both gave him sceptical looks. "OK, I don't know. It never came up."

"Was it a good show?" Cara asked. Christine and Max exchanged a smile.

"We like to think so."

"It was awesome." Meg said, coming over with Erik. "I saw it."

"And you're not at all biased." Christine suggested. Meg looked shocked.

"Absolutely not! Erik, what did you think of it?"

"I certainly am biased. It was extremely good." Erik smiled slightly. Christine laughed and looked at Cara.

"Erik was the producer of the show."

"Oh, so that's how you met?" Cara asked. Max nodded and winked at Christine.

"Although if it weren't for some rather suggestive newspapers they might never have gotten together."

"Max Hodges, I swear to God that if you mention those newspapers again I will hurt you." Christine warned. Max widened his eyes innocently.

"But they were so interesting. I think I've still got them somewhere."

"And let's not forget the funny lingerie story." Tom said, joining them. Christine buried her face in her hands.

"Oh my God, that was awful."

Cara looked confused but entertained. She glanced at Erik.

"So you didn't know Christine before the show?"

"No. But we made friends quickly."

"Yes, but was that before or after you ran over her dog?" Tom grinned. Cara looked shocked.

"You ran over her dog!"

"No, I did not." Erik said haughtily. She looked relieved. "My chauffer ran over her dog. I just happened to be in the car."

This would be an interesting dinner.

Christine was sat between Erik and Jake, one of Max's friends at dinner. Over the main course discussion inevitably turned to the Opera House.

"I picked a few things up from Erik, I think. Although I haven't reached the stage of calling people imbeciles yet." Max smiled, risking a glance at Erik who looked unconcerned.

"Only if they deserve it. Which they usually do."

Max opened his gifts after dinner. Christine and Erik had gotten him a silver watch and he strapped it on happily.

"Aw, thanks guys! This is great!" He said happily, admiring it. They were interrupted by Erik's mobile phone ringing. Twinging slightly at the disappointed look on Christine's face, he went to answer it in the living room.

"It's probably work." She said, none too happy about the fact. Meg patted her hand.

"He's got a lot depending on him."

"I know. I just wish he could leave it at the weekends."

"He's a dedicated bloke." Tom said. "Puts in a hundred and ten percent."

"And just think how proud you're going to be when you get to see it performed for the first time." Max reminded her. She smiled.

"I know. Come on, open the rest of your presents."

Erik returned a few minutes later, looking agitated. Christine frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Not now." He said softly. Christine felt her heart sink. She knew what was coming. Grabbing his hand, she excused them and pulled him into the kitchen.

"Erik, please don't tell me that you're going back now." She said, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry. There's been a mix-up and-"

"You've only been here for one day! Can't it wait until Monday?"

"No."

Christine stared at him for a moment and then looked down at her feet. Erik felt a wave of irrepressible guilt and touched her shoulder.

"Christine…"

"I'll call the car. You'll need to pack." She said quietly.

"Why don't you stay? It's Max's birthday, enjoy yourself. I'll see you next Friday." He said, trying got improve the situation. Christine nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Erik kissed her and then went, calling a goodbye to the others as he went.

Moments later Meg rushed into the kitchen, looking confused.

"Christine, what's happened?"

"He's going back to New York. There's a problem at the Opera House." Christine said dully, putting things into the dishwasher without seeming to realise she was doing it. Meg stared.

"But he only just got back!"

"I know." Christine said, feeling a lump in her throat. "It's not fair."

Tears pricked her eyes and she brushed them away, hoping Meg wouldn't notice. She did, of course and hugged her friend tightly.

"Oh, Christine…" She didn't know what to say. Max came in a moment later and frowned. He seemed to realise what had happened and hugged her too.

"Come on, Christine. Do you want to stay here for the night?" He offered. Christine nodded and then groaned as her phone rang. It was Nadir.

"Christine, what's going on? Erik just rang and said he's going back to New York."

"There's a problem he's got to sort out. Nadir, I'm going to stay here tonight."

"Oh… OK. I'll see you tomorrow."

Christine ended the call and then turned to Max, forcing herself to smile.

"Let's have some cake or something. I need something wonderfully unhealthy and I need it now."

Lying in bed that night, Christine replayed the scene in her mind. It wasn't fair. On either of them. She knew how important Erik's opera was and she'd behaved like a petulant child. She'd call him tomorrow and apologise.

…Maybe she'd wait until Monday.

Erik glared around the conference room. The four other men looked rather sheepish and Tony was by the door, chewing his lip at the outburst that was bound to arrive.

"Let me get this straight, gentlemen. You called me away from home and a friend's birthday dinner, forcing me to take a cross Atlantic flight, when I haven't seen my wife in nearly a week because you lost some papers which turned up exactly where they were supposed to be?"

"I can understand that you're upset Mr Destler-" The man was cut short by Erik slamming his briefcase shut.

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to my apartment. And I will not be disturbed under any circumstances. And let me assure you that if this happens again you can find yourself a new director."

He left the conference room in a filthy mood. Tony moved after him.

"Mr Destler-" But Erik had already gone through the doors to the Opera House and was walking away. Tony shook his head despairingly.

Artistic temperaments. They were never fun to work with.

A/N: Hee hee, lovely tortured characters. Things can only get better! And may I say that you people are so lovely and odd. 107 reviews for 4 chapters? Seriously? Cos WOW.

Des Yeux D'Ange – I hope it says From Angel's Eyes. Because I used an online translator since I don't take French! Kind of an in-joke, LOL.

Lotsa luv

Katie