From Heaven's Mind

Chapter Seven

Several weeks passed. On the fourteenth of September Christine turned twenty-five. Unfortunately her birthday took place on a Wednesday so Erik wouldn't be there for it.

Or so she thought. Because just as rehearsals were finishing for the day and people were wishing her a happy birthday, Max grinned.

"Christine, guess what!"

"What?"

"No, you have to guess." He teased. Christine straightened and tapped a finger thoughtfully to her chin.

"Well… is it something to do with my birthday?"

"Yes."

"Is it a present?"

"I'd say that, yes."

"I give up. What is it?" Christine said, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. Max laughed and pointed at the door. Standing by the exit, holding a single red rose in one hand, was Erik. Christine blinked, as though not entirely convinced that he was there.

"Erik?"

"Happy Birthday, Christine." He said softly, moving to her. He had decided that it was time for Tony to try flying solo. So Erik had come to England, giving himself the rest of the week off. He dreaded the state of the opera when he returned but the look on Christine's face had been worth it.

Those precious days that they spent together were so similar to the ones before their marriage, spent in both New York and England. Days filled with simplicity that neither had had since they had had to separate.

But what scared Christine the most was that it was getting easier to say goodbye. When Erik left on Sunday, she was sad, yes, but not as she had been in previous weeks. The thought terrified her. What if he was feeling less afraid as well? What if…?

No. She would not think like that. Because if she did she wouldn't be able to look at him again.

It was some time after this, on a Thursday nearing the end of September when Christine was late leaving the theatre. She had left her coat behind and had to go back for it. As she came out she found James on his mobile phone. He hung up and smiled at her.

"Good rehearsal today, Christine."

"Thanks James. The third act is still a killer, though."

"We'll be concentrating on that properly next week." He checked his watch. "Do you want to go for a drink or something?"

"Sure, that'd be good." Christine agreed. They made their way to the bar on the corner of the street. Christine ordered a coke since she was driving home. They sat at a table, discussing the opera, the other performers and the opening.

"So, how do you know Max and Rebecca?" James asked, sipping his beer.

"We were at university together."

"No way!"

"Yeah. Max and I are close friends. I hadn't seen Rebecca since university though. I finished my final year in New York." Christine said. James frowned.

"How come? It can't have been easy, moving in the middle of a course."

"Well, Erik had gotten a job at the New York Opera House and I wanted to be with him. But it actually took me a lot longer. I ended up dropping out of the course to perform in the opera after the lead got pregnant." Christine explained. "I finished it over the summer eventually."

James nodded and Christine looked at him, wondering whether or not to bring it up.

"Do you know Erik?" She asked eventually. James lowered his pint and looked at her carefully.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you look like you've met but you never talk. I'm curious."

"Have you asked him?"

"Yes. He said he didn't know you."

"Well, there you go." James said cheerfully, finishing his drink. "Ready to go?"

Christine gaped at him and then glared.

"Men!"

"What about us?"

"You're insufferable."

"That's what makes us so loveable." He winked. Christine rolled her eyes.

Nadir put the last few bits of paperwork into a folder and stretched. There, this week's lot done. A free weekend. Unless Erik wanted him for anything, but he didn't usually when he came home. Nadir checked his watch. 6:30.

Christine came in, dropped her bag and fell onto the sofa dramatically.

"That's it. I'm actually going to die of exhaustion." She cried, putting a hand to her forehead.

"That's a shame." Nadir said airily.

"I'm so tired…"

"Well, if you went to sleep occasionally instead of reading into the wee hours of the morning…" Nadir hinted. Christine threw a cushion at his head.

"Oh, shut up. Early night tonight or James will simply murder me."

"A good idea." Nadir said, standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. I'm going to be sociable unlike you. Sleep well." He'd left before Christine could comment. She groaned and sat up, reaching for the phone. But Erik didn't answer. Christine sighed and looked at Trister who rubbed his head against her knees.

"Just you and me then, boy. Like old times."

Trister licked her hand and leapt onto the sofa beside her. Christine hugged him tightly and was soon asleep. When one of the servants arrived a moment later, he simply smiled and pulled a blanket over here, rather than wake her up.

Kelly tapped a pen thoughtfully against her chin. This article was going nowhere. She sighed and saved what she'd written. Duncan wanted a first draft on his desk by Monday, but he'd have to wait. She couldn't write now.

She reached for the envelope of pictures that Rick Collins had delivered to her. Most of them were of the theatre, some of the dancers, the main singers. But towards the end of the pack were three different ones.

The first was of Erik Destler standing by the stage. He was instructing one of the singers on a line, his face a picture of concentration, light glinting from the mysterious white mask. Kelly examined it, the frown on her face fading away to be replaced by a slight smile. She reached for the second picture. This was her favourite. Rick had taken it without her knowledge. It was of herself and Erik Destler sat in the front row. She was facing him, a wide smile on her face and he returned the expression, if only slightly. But he never seemed to show that much emotion, unless it was fury at something not going right. Such passion, Kelly thought, for his art.

The third picture was her least favourite. Erik stood at the back of the theatre, his arms around Christine. Her hands were on his shoulders and he was smiling at him, no slight smile, but a real one. Christine was laughing at something, her face lit up in joy. They were a happy couple, unaware of anything around them, revelling in their togetherness.

And it sickened her. Kelly frowned at the picture and then threw it to one side miserably. She couldn't stand to see two people so happy. Not after… Kelly put her head in her hands. She'd tried so hard to make her own marriage work. But despite her best efforts, it had all fallen apart and she'd been left with nothing. She'd worked through it though. She'd gotten herself a successful career, a good place to live, an interesting life. No more men, that had been her rule. She was done with that.

At least, that used to be the rule. But ever since she'd met Erik Destler, he'd filled her thoughts constantly. He was all she ever thought about. But what she was thinking about couldn't be put into the article. It just wasn't feasible. The man of her dreams, happily married. It wasn't fair.

Kelly looked at the picture again. How could this marriage possible be a success? He was so much older than her, they hardly saw each other. Erik had even been reluctant to admit that he was attracted to Christine. It just didn't make sense. It wouldn't last long, Kelly decided. It couldn't possibly.

And when it fell apart, she would be there to pick up the pieces.

Erik was home when Christine finished at the opera house. She went straight home and found him in the music room, playing a complicated piece on the piano. She smiled and waited until he'd finished before entering. He kissed her in greeting.

"You look beautiful." He whispered. Christine looked down at her plain clothes.

"Did you go crazy on the flight here?" She asked. He smirked.

"You always look beautiful."

"Well, you know what they say. Flattery will get you everywhere." She said with a smile. Erik smiled and they left the music room, talking about everything and nothing, operas and friends, gossip and truth.

As they sat in the living room, Christine curled up on the sofa, her head on Erik's shoulder, he said quietly,

"I don't like this, Christine."

"Don't like what?" She asked sleepily.

"Being apart from you for so long." Her eyes opened and she looked up at him.

"No. I don't either." She said softly. "It's too hard."

For a brief moment she wondered about mentioning her fears but decided against it. Erik pushed back a lock of her hair.

"When you come to New York, after Des Yeux d'Ange has finished, I don't want you to leave ever again. I refuse to repeat this situation, Christine."

"I know, Erik. And I won't leave. Not after this." She promised, putting her head back on his shoulder.

"Christine, what's going on with you? You've been completely out of it all day." Max said, taking Christine to one side the Monday after her conversation with Erik. She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Max."

"Don't say you're sorry. Just tell me what's going on. Look, we're stopping for lunch now. Come on." He looked at her sternly. Christine had the uncomfortable feeling of standing in front of an irritated teacher.

"It's nothing, Max."

"Obviously it's something. And you'd better tell me so we can sort it out or James is going to have your head."

James had not been happy with her. Max was right; she'd been mentally absent all morning. Christine sighed as she and Max walked along to the café to buy lunch.

"It's Erik."

"What's he done?" Max asked.

"Nothing. I just hate this situation. I hate being away from him all week. It's driving me insane."

"It's not forever, Christine. In a few months you'll be with him in New York."

"I know…"

He eyed her.

"That's not all, is it?" She was amazed by his perceptiveness sometimes.

"No… Max, it's starting to scare me." Christine said, stopping and looking at him. "Every time we say goodbye, it's feeling less terrible."

"Well… that's good, isn't it?"

"No, it's not! Max, I feel like I'm forgetting about him half the time!" She said tearfully. "And that makes me think that he's forgetting about me! What if we can't get through this? What if…?"

She couldn't finish. Max pulled her hastily into a hug.

"First of all, stop crying. Second of all, don't be so stupid. Erik is head-over-heels for you. It's pretty obvious. Anyone can see it, even someone as hopeless at relationships as I am. So don't think like that, OK? Don't think about it like you're saying goodbye. Think of it more as being able to say hello again a few days later."

Christine sniffled and looked up at him in surprise.

"You're a surprisingly good agony-aunt."

"I do my best. Now pick yourself up and get back into the opera before James murders us both."

Erik rubbed his eyes. He was tired. He hadn't been sleeping particularly well lately. At least rehearsals were going better now.

"Carol." He called. The dance instructor approached him.

"Yes, Mr Destler?"

"I'm not sure about the choreography in the first act. It seems a little rough for that scene." Erik said, consulting his notes made during his observations. "I'd like to move it to the second act and have something a little smoother put in its place."

"Sure thing, Mr Destler." Carol agreed. She went straight to the dancer and began to give new instructions.

Erik made a note of the changes and began to talk to the main singers. Tony watched him. There was something wrong, he could tell. Not with work. Erik had that completely under control, he always did. He hadn't slowed down or changed in any way. He just seemed… different. More absorbed, as if he was trying to avoid thinking about something else. And Tony had a pretty good idea of what that something was.

"Tony Dimarcus?" He turned and saw that reporter Erik had been talking to a while back. She smiled and he shook her hand.

"Yes, that's me. What can I do for you?"

"I was just waiting to speak with Mr Destler, but I can see he's busy at the moment." Kelly said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Tony grinned.

"Don't worry, I'll just get him. He could use a break."

Kelly watched as he approached his boss. After a moment, Erik glanced over his shoulder and saw her. She smiled and he put down his notes to approach her.

"Miss Delaney." He said, taking her hand and shaking it briefly. "What can I do for you?"

"I was coming past this way and I wanted to bring you this. Just a thank you for agreeing to the interview." Kelly said, handing him a bottle of wine. Erik smiled slightly.

"That's very generous of you, Miss Delaney."

"Oh, Kelly, please." She smiled. "And it's nothing."

"How is your article coming along?"

"It's getting there, slowly. I seem to be suffering from writers' block which isn't pleasing my editor. But it'll get done by the deadline." She said firmly.

Erik nodded and said,

"If you need anything, just inform the receptionist or Tony and we can meet again."

"Thanks Mr Destler. I'll let you get back to your rehearsal now." Kelly smiled. She turned and left the theatre. Tony whistled.

"Hot."

"I beg your pardon?" Erik said vaguely, putting the wine by his case.

"Kelly Delaney. She's hot."

"That's not a particularly professional attitude, Tony."

"I'm only human." He smiled and then noticed his girlfriend, one of the dancers, watching him with folded arms and a very unamused expression. Erik smirked.

"As I said. Very unprofessional."

The weekend arrived quickly and on Friday Christine caught her plane to New York. She hadn't had a particularly good week. The third act was a nightmare, the costumes weren't finished and James had been in a positively foul mood that morning.

She took a cab straight to the penthouse. Erik would still be at the Opera House and she wanted to sleep. Letting herself in, she put her case in the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. She didn't know how long she slept but when she woke up someone was lying beside her, arms twined around her, pulling her back into a strong chest.

"Guess who?" he breathed in her ear. Christine smiled, but didn't open her eyes.

"Hmm… Brad Pitt?"

"Certainly not."

"Glad to hear it." Christine said, rolling over to look at him. He smirked and kissed her.

"Do you know how lovely you look when you sleep?"

"You're insane. I'm a mess." Christine yawned, stretching and sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven."

"I didn't mean to sleep that long." She admitted. "Are you only just getting in?"

"About an hour ago. We had a few dramas that needed sorting out."

Christine's stomach growled and Erik smiled.

"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes."

"I love you." She said, kissing him swiftly before climbing out of bed and disappearing into the bedroom. Erik smiled again and went into the kitchen where he had left the tomato pasta on the oven. His eyes fell upon the wine that he had received earlier in the week from Kelly Delaney. He made it a strict point these days not to drink when Christine wasn't here. It would not do to start drinking every night. But tonight he opened the bottle and poured the wine into two glasses.

When Christine came out of the bedroom, looking markedly more awake, their dinner was set out at the counter, piping hot and smelling delicious. She breathed in heavily.

"That smells incredible."

"I hope it tastes good too." Erik said, pulling out a chair for her. Christine sipped the wine and then examined it.

"This is new."

"It was a gift. It's rather good." He commented.

"Yes, it is. Whoever it was, they should be complimented on their good taste." Christine smiled.

"It was Kelly Delaney."

"Oh, the reporter? That was nice of her." Christine commented, sipping the wine again. They ate mostly in silence, both too hungry to make conversation.

Once the dishes were washed and they were sat on the sofa, talking companionably, Erik asked,

"How are Max and his girlfriend?"

"Cara? Heaven only knows. They went out on Tuesday and Max came back looking happy so I don't think they're going to be ripping each other's throats out anytime soon. Then again, I could get back and find they've had a huge fight and aren't talking to each other." Christine said, rolling her eyes. Erik smiled and Christine decided to take advantage of his good mood.

"Are you going to tell me about James?"

"Tell you what about James?" Erik said, getting up to close the blinds. Christine eyed him.

"Tell me how you know him. And don't deny it, Erik. You're not fooling me."

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you're referring to. Have you asked him about it?"

"Yes and he asked what you said. I told him that you said that you didn't know him and he said 'there you go' and refused to talk about it." Christine said grumpily.

Erik turned to look at her. She stared back, not turning from his gaze. After a while Erik said,

"No."

"What?"

"No. I'm not going to tell you about James."

"Why? Erik, I don't understand why you're being so… stubborn." Christine said, putting her wine down.

"You asked a question and I've given you my answer. Let's leave it at that." Erik said firmly, sitting back down. Christine sighed heavily and Erik took her hands in his.

"You'll have to trust me on this one. If I refuse to tell you something, Christine, please trust that I have a reason for doing so."

She hated it when he used the trust card. It always made her feel so guilty.

A/N: Slightly shorter chapter. But what is this I see? Why, I believe it's the formings of a plot amongst the fluff and angst! Well I never. And a good friend and I have been talking about cliff-hangers and I've decided to throw a few in during future chapters. Any complaints? Blame my friend! Mwahaha.

Lotsa luv

Katie