From Heaven's Mind
Chapter Seventeen
They sat in the living room at Rochdale. Erik had given the servants the night off and Nadir was out with June. He moved silently around the room, pouring them both drinks, lighting the fireplace, drawing the curtains. Anything to avoid sitting down and talking.
But Christine did not appear to be in any rush. She was sat comfortably on the sofa, legs curled up beneath her. Trister lay by the fireplace, sleeping, his paws twitching occasionally as he chased after some unknown prey.
Eventually Erik could put it off no longer. He sat on a chair opposite the sofa, eyes fixed on his wine. Christine looked at him, waiting. Eventually he said,
"Haven you asked him about it?"
"Yes. But he wouldn't say anything. And in any case, I want you to tell me. Not him." Christine said, moving across to sit at his feet, leaning her head against his knee. Erik sighed.
"It's a difficult thing to explain."
"Just say it then. As simply as possible." Christine advised. Erik nodded reluctantly and Christine took his hand, running her fingertips lovingly over the skin as he began.
"I met him in London. He was my assistant director for an opera. My opera. Do you know the name?"
"Un'età di amore." Christine murmured.
"It was the only one that I ever wrote." He looked down at her. "Do you remember what I said the first time you asked me why I stopped working in theatre?"
"You said that… that you saw too much. You were very vague. You said that you couldn't stand the people anymore."
"Yes, well… we started work and at first things were fine. We had very different ideas of how things should be done but we always managed to come to an agreement."
Slowly, gradually, the story came out. Erik kept his eyes fixed on his wineglass and Christine held his other hand with both of hers.
They had been about a month away from the opening night and they were discussing the most important scene from the opera. Both had extremely different ideas of how it should be done and they'd ended up arguing. Eventually Erik had said that they'd discuss it the next day.
But he'd fallen ill with what was later diagnosed as a stress-related illness. Headaches, fevers, vomiting and worse. He'd returned to the theatre three weeks later, with just a week to the opening night. To discover that James had changed all of his previous work.
"All the direction was gone, the sets were different, he'd even dismissed several of the actors with consulting me." Erik said bitterly. "And of course, by that it, it was too late to change it back. but it wasn't my opera anymore. I barely recognised. I left the theatre immediately and sent Nadir to the opening night. He came back almost straight away with a programme."
Erik paused, moistened his lips and then continued. "Pewter had removed my name from the programme. All that was left was a small note at the end saying that I had written it. All knowledge of my work had been erased, what was left of it. I went to the theatre the next day to speak with him and we fought. I won't go into details. But I couldn't do it anymore. I quit. I left London, travelled for a while and then settled here. I swore never to work in professional theatre again. Un'età di amore has never been performed since then and if I have my way, it never will be. Because every time I see or hear it, I only think of what he did to it. I poured myself into that opera and now it only belongs to him."
The bitterness in his tone was not lost on Christine. She didn't speak though. She just watched him. Erik put down his wineglass and clasped both of her hands in his.
"You understand, don't you? Why I couldn't tell you?"
"Yes, Erik. I understand." She whispered.
"You wanted this so badly. I couldn't take it away from you just because of my history with him."
"I know."
She knelt up and hugged him tightly. His arms went around her and they cling to each other. After a few moments, Christine pulled back and looked at him.
"Erik, promise me something?"
"What is it?"
"Don't hide things from me, OK? When I married you I agreed to the whole package, not the edited version. Whatever you've faced, anytime that there's something bothering you, you should tell me. Deal?"
Erik smiled and kissed her.
"Deal." He agreed.
"Good. Any other skeletons in the closet?"
"No, I believe that sharing time is over for the day." He smiled. Christine laughed and knelt up to kiss him again. He welcomed her embrace.
Sometimes he felt that she was all he lived for.
Whilst Erik was in the shower that evening, Christine called Max. He answered his mobile cheerfully.
"Hello?"
"It's only me."
"Hi Christine." He said. "What's up with Erik and James?"
"Never mind, I'll explain later. Did you ask Rebecca out?"
"Well… yeah. We're going to the cinema tomorrow."
Max flinched as a girlish squeal came down the phone.
"For crying out loud, woman! I need these eardrums!"
"I'm just so glad you're going out."
"Me too, but I'm not injuring dog's hearing." Max grumbled. "Anyway, I've got to get going. See you Monday, OK?"
Christine hung up, grinning to herself.
If she ever decided she didn't want to sing (not likely) she could always go into matchmaking. She was damn good at it!
Christine sat on the edge of the stage on Monday morning, listening to Max and Rebecca argue. It seemed to be a qualification for Max's girlfriends – they couldn't get on once they were together. Well, that wasn't exactly true, Christine thought with a smile. They may argue but clearly they were getting on. Just the way they looked at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking was testament to that.
"Rebecca and Stuart, go through your duet." James called. He moved over to Christine. "We'll go through the title song, OK?"
"Sure." Christine said quietly, keeping her eyes on the scorebook.
James looked at her for a moment and then sighed.
"He told you, didn't he?" He said quietly.
"…Yes."
"I see."
"James, it doesn't make a difference to me. It's not me that you hurt. So I'm not going to be all bitter on his behalf or anything, OK? I want this opera to be a success and I'm not going to let this ruin it." Christine said firmly.
James watched her closely and then rubbed his chin.
"If it helps, in anyway, I… I regret what I did to him."
"Then why did you do it?" She couldn't help asking the question. James sighed.
"Christine, do you have any idea how hard it is to get into this business? It was easier for you. You had Erik to help you. I didn't have anything. When Erik became sick, I just… I thought this is it. My big break. I ruined it for him, to make myself a success. I destroyed his career to boost my own. And I've regretted it for so long now."
He paused and looked at her.
"I'm not using it as an excuse because I know that what I did was inexcusable. I doubt there's anything I can do now that would help."
"James, I do understand." Christine said gently. "You just went the wrong way about it. But… after this opera I can't work with you anymore. Erik is everything to me. I don't want to hurt him anymore than is necessary."
"I expected that." He admitted.
"Just one question though. Did you ever try apologising to Erik?" Christine asked. James scratched the back of his head.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Christine. Your husband terrifies me. Even I hadn't been so full of myself back then that I would have apologised, I'd have been too scared to anyway."
Christine couldn't help snorting.
"I don't get it! He's not that frightening!"
"Yes he is. Max?"
"Yeah?" Max said, looking up from the other side of the room.
"Do you think that Erik Destler is scary?"
"Bloody hell, yes!" Max agreed. James looked back at Christine with a smug expression. She rolled her eyes.
"You're all wimps."
"He's sorry?" Erik said disbelievingly on the phone that night. "Christine, did you not hear the story? It's going to take a damn sight more than a mere apology to get back in my good books."
"I know, Erik. I know what he did was devastating for you."
He sighed. The sound crackled over the line.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He said miserably.
"Absolutely not. So either you talk to him or… or I'll never sleep with you again." Christine said smugly. Erik's silence could have been that of shock, contemplation or disbelief. Eventually he said,
"That's quite a threat, you know."
"Hmm. So what do you think?"
"I think you're going to be in big trouble when you get here this weekend."
"Fine, but what about James?" Christine persisted. Erik groaned.
"I'll talk to him. But in a time and place of my choosing."
"OK, that seems fair. When and where?"
"At the opera house, the last night of your opera."
"Erik Destler!"
"I've got to go, I love you, stay safe, look after the baby." She heard him hang up and stared, open mouthed at the receiver.
"Unbelievable…" She said, putting the phone back onto the cradle. "Simply unbelievable."
"What's wrong?" Nadir said, coming in to overhear her last statement.
"Erik."
"What's he done now?"
"Oh, nothing in particular." Christine said, stretching. "What's up?"
"Not much. How was rehearsal?"
"Hard. I think James has given up on the harness idea, at least."
"That's a relief." Nadir laughed. Christine smiled.
"Tell me about it. I figured I'd end up looking like Tinkerbelle..."
"Everything seems to be fine. The baby's developing well." Dr Pine smiled. "You've been reading those pamphlets?"
"And various books." Christine said
"Are you still getting morning sickness?"
"Most days, yes. How long does it go on for?"
"The first three months, generally."
"Isn't there anything I can do about that?" She asked. Dr Pine smiled.
"I'm afraid there isn't much. There are some herbal remedies you might like to try; it's different for every woman. I'll give you a list."
"Thanks." Christine said, rubbing her stomach. "I meant to ask you something. I've been flying out to New York every other week to see my husband. Is it safe to do that or should I stop?"
"You can fly up to the eighth month of pregnancy, although the less often you do it the better."
"Oh, I'll only be four months gone when I move out there." Christine said.
"Anything else?"
"No, I think I've got it all covered." Christine smiled. Dr Pine nodded.
"You don't smoke or drink?"
"Nope."
"Excellent. Well, we'll make another appointment for in about four weeks. If you have any trouble before then, come in. If you've got an emergency go straight to the hospital."
Christine took the list of recommended remedies and thanked the doctor before heading out of the doctor's office. Meg was sat in the waiting room.
"Everything OK?"
"It's all good." Christine nodded as they went out into the car park.
"Excellent. Let's get something to eat, I'm starving!"
"You're always starving, Meg, I don't know how you stay so thin." Christine commented as they climbed into the car. Meg smiled sweetly.
"I'm one of the lucky ones. Fast metabolism."
"When you hit thirty you're going to wake up with a tyre around your waist." Christine warned.
"If it happens, it happens. I need food." Meg said firmly. They stopped at a café and ate sandwiches, Christine avoiding the tuna ones, and Meg asked,
"I can't believe you go on in a week. It's just gone so quickly."
"Tell me about it. I'm terrified. Erik's going to come and watch the opening night." Christine smiled.
Two weeks had already passed since Erik had told her about James' betrayal. Christine was now over a month pregnant, her opera was within sight and the next day they would be performing for the critics of the newspapers.
"Don't worry about it. You've worked so hard, how could anything possibly go wrong?"
"Don't tempt fate, Meg. Are you going to eat that?" Christine said, taking a piece of Meg's sandwich.
It was hard to tell who was most nervous the next morning. Everyone was walking about with tight expressions on their faces, June was in a foul mood, James was twitching like a rabbit and Christine felt positively ill.
They would be meeting the critics before they went on, so James insisted that no costumes to be worn for the meeting and that they dress smartly. Christine had dug out a two-piece charcoal dress suit with a white blouse and tied her hair back neatly. Rebecca was in a smart suit and was looking rather pale, tying her dark blonde hair into a ponytail.
Stuart looked in on them.
"Ready? They're waiting for us now."
"Sure." Christine and Rebecca went out. Max was waiting with Stuart.
"Don't look so nervous. Hey Christine, guess who's here?"
"Who?" Christine said anxiously.
"You know that guy who hangs around the house all the time."
"You mean Tom?"
"Yeah, that's the one. Honestly, it's like he lives there." Max said, rolling his eyes with a grin. Christine smiled. Well… being best friends with one of the critics might help!
"How many are there?" Rebecca asked anxiously.
"Around fifteen. Three are locals, five are from nearby cities, a few are even national newspapers!" Max said excitedly. "I'm telling you, guys, this is going to be big."
"I can't believe this is really happening!" Rebecca cried, clutching Christine's arms.
"OK ladies, compose yourselves." James said from the doorway to the theatre.
They all took deep breaths and entered the hall. A large gaggle of people stood nearby, all holding drinks and talking cheerfully.
"Go and mix. Be nice." James said, pushing his three stars forward. They had decided to stick together and spoke politely with the critics, who all seemed to be very interested in them and, to Christine's surprise, rather nice.
After about fifteen minutes James caught up with them, looking stressed but pleased.
"Come with me." He said and took them to one side. "There's a few more you need to meet. Here are our three local critics." James said, gesturing to three people standing nearby. Christine, Stuart, Max and Rebecca turned to look. "This is Anna Bellamy, Tom Sutherland and Kelly Delaney."
A/N: I hate this chapter. Hate it, hate it, HATE IT! I got writer's block halfway through, the James Pewter thing seems like an uber anticlimax and it just seemed to rush through all scribbly. But it's up and I'm sorry about the wait.
Lotsa luv 'n' huggles
Katie