48) This will be the day
It is a remarkable phenomenon that time can both fly as quickly as an eagle and crawl along like a snail. Even for two people an hour will never be equally long. The past two weeks were a good example. How was it possible that they had passed with the speed of lightning whereas certain hours before had been unusually long?
Everyone working at the opera had this impression. They had had to do their jobs as quickly as never before. Two weeks were little time, and with any other composer they´d have probably simply asked the managers to postpone the first night. But with the Phantom… He seemed to know exactly how many days, how many hours certain tasks needed, and lazy people were sure to be noticed. Yet it also worked in the opposite direction: A few diligent workers had already received pay rises.
Today was the day. Less than fourteen hours had to pass until the performance. Still the opera was very quiet. A couple of sceneshifters practiced with some large pieces of scenery which had only been finished last night. In a small chamber far away from the stage a single seamstress changed the sleeves of Carlotta´s costume. Yesterday the diva had decided that they were too tight.
Apart from those people, only two others were already awake, in a house below the opera. It were a masked man and a young girl. "Don´t you want to tell me what´s the matter?", Christine asked. She had been woken up hours earlier than usual by Erik playing the organ, and he hadn´t even stopped to say ´Good morning!´. In the days of living under the same roof she had got to know his moods, but it wasn´t like him to ignore her entirely.
She came to a halt at the organ, carrying two cups of tea. One of them she placed next to him on the bench. "Erik?", she addressed him again, guessing correctly that he hadn´t heard her the first time. "If you don´t want to talk, that´s all right with me. But you could at least drink something. You have to keep your strength." Erik ended his playing and looked up at her. "I´ve told you at least a dozen times that I´m a grown-up man, Christine. I don´t need a mother."
She ignored his comment. She was used to such remarks by now. They had been his standard reaction to every meal she had cooked and every room she had cleaned. Yet even if he thought these things superfluous, for her they were important. As soon as her ankle had returned to its normal state she had grown restless during the long hours when he had been gone. So she had started working in the household. Occasionally she had even persuaded him to eat a few bites.
"Drink!", she repeated strictly, and finally Erik complied. He took a long gulp, shuddering about the vast amount of honey she had poured into the cup. When it was empty he handed it to her, saying: "Thank you. Why don´t you go now and take a bath or wash your hair or do whatever you usually do on such a day? I need some time for myself.". If he had really assumed he´d get rid of her that easily, he had been mistaken. Christine merely placed the two cups on the floor, sat down next to him and looked at him intently. "Could it be possible that you suffer from… stage fright?"
Erik jumped slightly. "Of course not!", he exclaimed. He could not have sounded more indignant if she had accused him of having a love affair with Carlotta. "It´s perfectly normal.", the girl assured him. "I´m quite nervous myself, and you haven´t even played the role on stage. Maybe you should have taken part in the rehearsals every now and then."
"That´s not the problem.", he said with an impatient wave of his hand. "Don´t forget that I´ve written the role! Besides, our rehearsals down here were very good." Christine waited a few moments for further explanations, but none came. So she asked: "What is it then? Are you afraid that the audience mightn´t like your opera?". "Since when do I care about the opinion of stupid noblemen and their arrogant wives?", Erik muttered. "It´s… Meg." This one whispered word made a shiver run down the girl´s spine. Only he had the power to put so much longing into a single syllable.
"I miss her." Erik stated the obvious. "But you´ve seen her, haven´t you?", Christine wanted to know. After all, he had told her about having watching the rehearsals. "She was always surrounded by people, people who were allowed to laugh with her and enjoy her presence while I couldn´t even talk to her because I had promised her mother I wouldn´t make the first move.", he said grumpily. "And she never called for me."
"At least you could see her." The moment the words had left Christine´s mouth she wanted to take them back. He threw her a sideways glance, not half as surprised as she´d have assumed. "Do you really miss the boy?", he asked with an amused undertone. "Well… maybe a little.", she admitted. "But I´m also anxious about meeting him again tonight. I still have no idea what to reply." "Use the time you have this morning to think about it.", he advised her. The girl gave him a knowing smile and shook her head. " Nice try, Erik! We´ll eat breakfast now, you and I. Stage fright or not, I can´t let you collapse on stage."