"Love Comes To Those Who Wait"

By Nabira

CHAPTER 1

ISABELLA DE CHAGNY'S eyes widened in amazement as she stood inside the entrance hall of the great Opera Garnier. The Opera House's beauty was apparent everywhere she looked and she caught herself thinking that the man who had created this must have been a genius.

Isabella had never been to France before. Her grandfather, Jacques de Chagny, had hated the country of his birth and had moved to England in his early twenties after World War Two. Once there, he had met Isabella's grandmother, Johanna, who he had married and Isabella's father and Aunty Georgette were born.

Isabella's father Olivier had also never liked France much and had therefore kept Isabella and her older brother, Claude, from visiting the country. But now, at eighteen, Isabella was old enough to make her own choices and when the opportunity to visit France arose, she grabbed it with all of her might.

Musical talent seemed to run in the de Chagny family. As a young child, Isabella had listened to the stories about her grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather. All were musical. There was a violinist, a pianist and a trumpeter and they all had stories surrounding them. But Isabella's favourite story was about her great-great-great-grandmother. Christine de Chagny had been a singer and had been the only one of the de Chagny's to perform at the Paris Opera House. But the stories about Christine weren't just about her triumph on the stage. Rather, they were much darker and had been hidden by her family for generations.

Isabella would never forget the day she had come across Christine de Chagny's diary in the attic in their English manor. She was twelve years old at the time and had been looking for the sheet music that she knew her grandfather had stored up there. After spending half the day going through the dusty boxes without much luck, Isabella, who had been about to give up, had spied the leather bound book in a box.

Straight away, Isabella knew that the book was hiding something important and had made it her resolution to find out what the book said. But there was a slight problem. The diary was locked.

If Isabella had been of weaker resolve, she would have given up there and then. But she was not one to quit. After much trying and deliberation, she managed to pick the tiny lock a few days later and was finally able to read the secrets.

The contents of the diary truly shocked Isabella. As she read the French words within the pages, she began to believe there was something truly wrong with Christine de Chagny. The diary had been started when Christine Daae was eight years old. The young girl was dreadfully mourning the loss of her father and would cry for him and the Angel of Music that he had promised her everyday. As she began to give up hope, however, the unthinkable happened.

Christine Daae was visited by the Angel of Music.

It was at this stage that Isabella felt the need to throw away the diary and never read it again. She had been told such wonderful stories about her ancestor and she was not allowed to be mad! But Isabella was drawn to the diary and unable to put it down. She knew that she had to be the one in the family to finally know the truth. And so Isabella continued reading the diary.

Christine's Angel of Music taught her vocal skills until she was good enough to become a leading singer at the Opera House. And it was after her debut as a competitor to the current Prima Donna that Christine learned the truth about her Angel of Music.

He was no Angel of Music. He was a man, a man who had become the Phantom of the Opera.

But Christine was drawn to him. She knew that she loved him, but something happened that made Christine reconsider her choices.

An old childhood friend turned up. A man who Christine ended up marrying.

Raoul de Chagny.

In her diary, Christine spoke of her fear of the man, whose name she did not even know, after he had killed a stagehand and after he had threatened the staff at the masquerade ball. And about how she was drawn to dear, safe Raoul. But a lack of entries had stopped Isabella from finding out anymore. There was only one more entry in the diary, dated thirteen years after the last.

I saw Erik today and he is happy. He has a family, as do I, but I still can't help thinking about how different it would have been if I had chosen more wisely.

Isabella knew in her heart that Erik was the Phantom of the Opera. And she knew that Christine had regretted marrying Raoul. She was not stupid. She could read between the lines.

Since reading Christine's diary, Isabella had really wanted to visit the Opera House that had shaped Christine Daae into who she was. And Isabella had gotten that chance.

Isabella had carried on the family tradition of music. She had loved music her entire life and it had always been her dream to perform. But Isabella did not sing like Christine Daae did. In fact, while her voice wasn't bad, she had never really enjoyed singing. Isabella was a flautist, quite a good one in fact, and she loved the feeling and emotion that she could portray through the instrument. It was this musicality that had gotten her noticed by the Royal College of Music and, in turn, the Paris Opera House.

The letter from the manager, Monsieur Noverre, of the Opera House had been quite unexpected for Isabella. She had been ready to start a degree in business that year and had decided, in a spur of the moment decision, to defer her studies and visit France. And so, here she was now, at the Opera Garnier, still not knowing why she had been written to.

Isabella was quite nervous as she walked to the concierge desk. The woman there seemed to have eyes that cut straight through you and it made Isabella quite tense. Hugging the instrument's case to her body she stopped in front of the desk.

"Yes?" the unfriendly woman asked. Her name tag read "Margaret".

"I have an appointment with Monsieur Noverre," Isabella said anxiously in perfect French. Her father had made sure that both his children could speak the language of their ancestors.

The woman looked at Isabella critically, as if she was making it up. "Name?" she asked quite rudely.

"Isabella de Chagny," she replied, her tone changing slightly as she tried to counteract the disrespect.

Margaret turned away from her and began to shuffle through some papers. Isabella frowned, her chocolate brows moving downwards. The nerve of some people!

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, the woman turned around again. "That seems to be in order," she said. "If you'll just move through there and take a seat, Monsieur Noverre will be with you soon."

Isabella smiled falsely, muttering her thanks and moved into the hall where Monsieur Noverre's office was. She did not have to wait long. Five minutes later, a man burst into the hall, a great smile on his face. "Mademoiselle de Chagny, it is a pleasure!"

Isabella liked the man straight away. He was about the same height as she was, with a balding head and he was slightly chubby around the middle. But he was full of life and Isabella knew that he must make a fine manager.

Isabella took the seat that he offered in his office and after offering tea, coffee and soft drink, all of which Isabella turned down, Monsieur Noverre finally settled as well.

"Well, I suppose you're wondering why I have asked you here, Mademoiselle de Chagny," Noverre said, a slight smile on his face.

Isabella smiled. "Yes," she replied. "It is all very mysterious at the moment."

Noverre's face split into a wide grin. "I can understand that, Mademoiselle, I truly can," he said, his excitement beginning to wear off on Isabella. "We are running a showcase of Europe's finest youth musicians throughout the opera season. It involves musicians of all the orchestra instruments and each night a different musician will be showcased."

Noverre looked at Isabella, seeing if she was catching on. Isabella had a thoughtful look on her face and Noverre knew that she understood.

"The other youth musicians will accompany the showcased musician. The indenture will last for a year." Noverre smiled and added suddenly, "That's why you're here Mademoiselle. You have been chosen as our flautist for the showcase."

Isabella's jaw dropped. "You want me?" she asked incredulously.

Noverre's face split into a grin once again. "Of course, Mademoiselle!" he said laughing. "And you won't go unrewarded!" Noverre handed Isabella a piece of paper.

As Isabella took the piece of paper, her eyes widened in shock. This was how much she would be being paid for a year working at the Opera House. And it more than she could ever have imagined.

"Would you please consider, Mademoiselle de Chagny?" Noverre asked, his face hopeful.

Isabella did not have to be asked twice. "Of course," she said happily. "This is my dream come true!"

Noverre laughed youthfully. "Thank you, Mademoiselle!" he said, his attitude once again very excited. "You will not regret working for us!" Noverre stood up and shook Isabella's hand and then added, "Would you like to meet the rest of the performers?"

Isabella nodded. She had not realised that they would all be at the Opera House too. Noverre seemed to realise her thoughts and said, "Oh, you will be living at the Opera House for the year. Is that okay?"

Isabella thought it was more than okay. It meant that she did not have to find somewhere to board and she knew that rent was expensive in Paris. With a quick nod of assent, Isabella followed Monsieur Noverre to the artist's quarters.

It was very dark around the artist's dormitories with very little natural light, but Isabella did not care. Rather, she thought it was very beautiful. It reminded her of old-fashioned movies and she had always dreamed of growing up in those times.

Noverre had stopped in front of a door to one of the dormitories and knocked on the door three times. A few seconds later, a young lady with blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes peaked out. Seeing Noverre, her face lit up and she opened the door fully.

"Monsieur Noverre!" she said merrily. "To what do I have the pleasure?"

Noverre laughed and beckoned for Isabella to join him. "Amalie, this is Isabella de Chagny and she is joining us for the showcase." Noverre smiled, pulling Isabella slightly closer. "Mademoiselle de Chagny, this is Amalie Guise, another fellow performer in the showcase."

"Very pleased to meet you, Isabella!" Amalie said, extending her hand. Isabella took it and Amalie continued, "What instrument are you playing in the showcase?"

Isabella smiled. "Flute," she replied looking at Amalie curiously. "What about you?"

Amalie smiled in return. "I play the cello," she said excitedly. "I am so excited about all of this!"

Noverre smiled. "It's good to hear that, Amalie," he said happily. "But, we must be off to meet the other performers."

Amalie smiled, waving as they left.

Isabella was very excited about the opportunity she had received. And meeting the other performers had made her even more excited. They all seemed like a great bunch of people and all very excited to be there.

Later that evening, Isabella went back to her hotel for the last time. The next day she would be checking out and going to live at the Opera Garnier.

As Isabella climbed into bed, she smiled at the day's events. But the excitement had caught up with her and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

-♥-

THE NEXT MORNING was straight into business for Isabella. There was the move to the Opera House to contend with but Isabella had not realised that they would be working on the showcase so soon. And there was also another shock to contend with – out of fifteen performers, Isabella would be doing the third performance.

So at noon that day, Isabella knocked on the door of the composer who would be working on all of the pieces played for the season-long showcase. She knew nothing about him, other than the fact that he, too, had been chosen as an exceptional youth musician. So, it was with some trepidation that Isabella approached the office where he was working. In all honesty, it was slightly daunting being around all of these exceptional musicians. She had never imagined in all of her wildest dreams that she would be considered as one of them.

Isabella had only tapped on the door once when it flew open. Standing in the doorway was a man with short black hair and unusual golden eyes that made Isabella catch her breath.

"Uh," Isabella stuttered slightly, her voice unusually weak. "My name is Isabella de Chagny – I was sent to see you."

The man looked at Isabella curiously. Suddenly, realisation dawned on him. "You're the flautist from the showcase, aren't you?" he asked, looking at Isabella pointedly. At Isabella's nod, he stepped back, holding the door open for her. "Come in," he directed, gesturing to a chair at the desk.

Isabella took the seat, still shaking slightly. She did not know why she was so nervous but it was most definitely unlike her.

The man sat down at the opposite side of the desk shuffling some papers as he did so. "My name is Philippe Cuvier," he said, introducing himself. "I've been appointed to the role of composer and arranger for the showcase." Philippe smiled as he looked at Isabella. "I'm not sure if you know, but all of the musicians involved in the showcase will be playing as a part of the orchestra to help accompany their fellow performers and each performance will begin and end with an orchestral suite." Philippe stood up, moving toward a filing cabinet. He took out a folder and handed it to Isabella. As Isabella flipped through the folder of music, Philippe explained. "These are the accompaniments for the music that we have already chosen. You will find some of it easy and boring, I am sure, but they are accompaniments after all."

Isabella smiled. "Thank you," she said, placing the folder in her bag.

Philippe looked at Isabella. "You're welcome," he said. Moving another piece of paper on the desk, he asked, "Did you bring your flute with you? I'd like to hear what you can do."

Isabella swallowed and nodded. She had not expected to need to play for him, but she had brought her flute along just in case. Philippe seemed to notice her slight discomfort.

"You don't need to play anything too hard," he said, looking at her. "Just something you know really well so that I can assess your strengths and weaknesses."

Isabella nodded as she took out her flute and lovingly put it together. She always found playing her music to be a joy and just the simple act of pulling her flute apart and cleaning it was filled with the utmost tenderness.

Isabella warmed up quickly and tuned. She knew exactly the piece to play – it was easy, but it sounded challenging enough to impress Monsieur Cuvier.

Isabella put the flute to her mouth and began to play. Her fingers ran light lightning and the staccato phrases lit up Bach's Badinerie from Sonata in B Minor. As the piece drew to a close, Isabella knew she had played well.

Philippe nodded. "Thank you, Mademoiselle de Chagny. I will be able to find some suitable pieces from that demonstration." Philippe watched as the girl packed away the instrument with loving care.

Philippe showed Isabella from the room, shutting the door behind her. As soon as the girl was out of the room, Philippe collapsed into the couch on the other side of the room. His nerves were on end and he knew he was shaking.

The girl, Isabella de Chagny, had seemed a fragile flower ready to wilt at a simple touch. Her shoulder-length chocolate brown curls and her brown eyes gave her that feeling of innocence and she had looked so nervous, so unsure of herself – until she had brought the instrument to her mouth and begun to play.

The quality of the sound that had come from that instrument had been amazing. Philippe knew the piece was not hard for a musician of Isabella's calibre, but he had still heard it massacred many times by many good performers. But her playing and the obvious love that she had for the instrument made the piece come to life.

Philippe sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He had agreed to compose for the showcase as he searched for his family history. He had become stuck with one, final clue – the Opera Garnier. But as of that moment, Philippe had still not been able to learn the rest of the mystery – or had he?

Philippe ran to the filing cabinet quickly, searching through the files until he found the newspaper clipping he had been looking for.

Vicomtess Christine de Chagny died peacefully after a long battle with cancer, surrounded by her family.

Perhaps the answer was sitting right beneath his nose, after all.

Author's note:

Don't expect daily updates – each of these chapters takes me far too long to write! The only reason you get a daily one today is because I thought you needed to know what the story is really about.

Yes, another flute player. I apologise, but flute is the easiest instrument for me to write about, flute being my primary instrument.

Funnily enough, a friend of the family just had a baby girl that they named Isabella. I had decided on my character's name a little while ago, so it was quite funny to hear that their daughter was called Isabella.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy and PLEASE review!

Cate.