8) And for once is would be grand…
When Meg was gone Christine tried to stand up. As she was still trembling she needed several attempts. Having finally persuaded her legs to support her weight she went to the washbasin. She drank a few handfuls of water and washed out her mouth till after a while the disgusting taste decreased slightly. Then she looked up into the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her. Mercilessly she took in each and every flaw. Her eyes were blood-shot and her whole face was pale and covered in cold sweat.
She was about to search for a handkerchief in her pockets as one was handed to her. Christine had been so busy with herself that she hadn´t even noticed Mme.Giry appearing next to her. The girl took the snow white handkerchief and wiped her face and mouth with it. Muttering a "Thank you!" she gave it back to her. "Did Meg send you?", she asked, although she knew the answer had to be positive. No one else had the slightest idea she was here.
The ballet teacher nodded. "She saw that you were sick and was worried about you. And since you made her leave she came to me, asking me to go to you so that you would´t be alone.", she explained. "So you´re only here because someone has to do it and you regard it as your duty? I´m flattered." Christine´s voice was full of sarcasm. "You know that I care for you as if you were my daughter.", Mme.Giry said calmly, brushing over the girl´s dark hair.
Christine could hardly keep herself from telling her: ´I wish I really was your daughter.´. If she had been Meg, she´d have had Erik. There had to be something that made her so appealing, maybe her beautiful curls or her charming smile. It could also be the way she walked or her pretty dresses…
She only heard Mme.Giry´s question as she cleared her throat and repeated it: "What is the reason for your sickness, Christine? Meg suspected it could have been the incident on stage, but you weren´t present for as long as a minute. Besides, you´ve been acting strangely for weeks. You´re distracted during rehearsals. When the roles for the upcoming opera were announced you didn´t show any signs of cheerfulness. When has been the last time I´ve seen you laugh or merely smile? What is wrong with you?".
Christine´s fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the washbasin. How she longed to tell someone! But she couldn´t. No one was to know about it, especially not the woman she was facing at the moment. She was Meg´s mother, after all. She didn´t dare imagine what would happen if Meg heard about it. Their friendship would be over, that much was certain, and for some reason she didn´t know herself this friendship was still very important to her.
The ballet teacher waited some minutes for a reply. When Christine remained silent she said with a small sigh: "You don´t have to talk to me. Do you want me to get someone else… Erik, maybe?". To her it sounded like a good idea. Erik was almost like a father to the girl. Perhaps her problem was very private, and she´d feel more comfortable discussing it with him.
She had almost turned around when the girl caught her sleeve and held on to it as if her life depended on it. "No… no, madame… not Erik… not him, please… I can´t…", she stammered, her eyes shining with tears. "It´s all right. I won´t go to him.", Mme.Giry assured the girl, trying in vain to free her sleeve. With her other hand she pulled out a fresh handkerchief and dabbed at Christine´s eyes.
"So I assume Erik is involved in the matter that worries you so much.", she stated, and the girl nodded. This made Mme.Giry think. Meg had told her how abruptly her friend has stopped her singing lessons. And even though she never brought up the topic, the ballet teacher had not forgotten what Erik had nearly done to her daughter. Now all she had to do was put two and two together. "Has he ever… touched you in an inappropriate way or done… other things you didn´t want?", she approached the subject cautiously.
Christine stared at her, her eyes wide. She looked almost frightening. "But no!", she whispered, involuntarily letting go of the older woman´s sleeve. "Erik would never do such a thing again. He has learned his lesson, really. Besides…" Her voice changed completely. Had it defended her teacher passionately before, it sounded bitter now. "…why should he bother to touch me? Meg and he are so… happy." Mme.Giry couldn´t remember that she had ever heard the word ´happy´ spoken with such disgust.
The girl heard her own sentences echo through her head. ´They´re happy… happy… happy…´ Quite suddenly she felt dizzy again. Her fingers lost their grip on the washbasin. Only Mme.Giry´s presence of mind kept her from crashing to the floor. She collapsed right in her arms. Her eyes were closed, but she hadn´t passed out. The older woman could tell that by the tears running down her pale cheeks. "Christine, my dear…", she muttered in an unusually kind voice. She brought the girl´s head to her chest and rocked her back and forth slightly.
Neither of them knew how long they stood like this; it could have been minutes as well as hours. Finally Christine´s tears subsided and she opened her eyes. She straightened up and pulled herself out of the embrace. The other woman seized her chance to speak. "You´re in love with Erik, aren´t you?" "I love Erik.", Christine replied. It was strangely relieving to say it loud, as if for a second it was something normal. But of course it wasn´t.
Mme.Giry held back all the questions that appeared on her mind. Was she the only other person to know about this? Why was the girl still meeting Raoul when she wasn´t seriously interested in him? The only one she uttered was: "What are you going to do?". Christine shook her head. "I don´t know. I´ve been thinking about little else for weeks and still don´t know it."
"Do you want me to talk to Erik?", the ballet teacher offered. "No… yes… I don´t know… maybe…", the girl mumbled, still shaking her head. "I will talk to him.", Mme.Giry decided. "It cannot go on like this with you. I´ve heard of people dying of grief…" She took her hand and led her out of the bathroom through the empty corridors and straight to a coach waiting for passengers outside the opera. "There will be no more lessons for you today, Christine. You should go home and…" "No!", Christine exclaimed. The silence in her room would certainly drive her insane. Quickly she told the coachman: "To the de Chagny estate, please.". She climbed into the coach. "Thank you, madame.", she said. Mme.Giry gave her faint smile and went back inside.