Disclaimer: All originating characters and storylines belong to their respectful owner. This is mostly a continuation of ALW's work, but I do throw GL a couple of good nods. All new characters and sub-plots are my original work and are not to be used/reproduced without my expressed permission. Enjoy the story and shoot some feedback my way if you can! Thanks for reading.
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Penmore Zenith: Thanks for taking the time to read my story. I do try and stay true to characters, but sometimes it can be quite hard. And thanks for not hating me cause I'm not a Raoul-hater. There seems to be a lot of them here. I am glad that you are enjoying it!
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Chapter Seventeen
The construction of the new theater was going more smoothly than Madame Giry had expected. The workers that she had contracted worked long hours, sometimes into the night. The foreman made certain that every aspect of the building was perfect. He was a pleasant man in his fifties. Ben-Roy, or Ben, as he insisted he be called, had a very soft look about him. Though he was along in years, his hair still had bold streaks of black in it and a smart moustache to match. His round cheeks were still full of childhood innocence.
Soon after contracting him, Mme. Giry was asked if her husband would be available to watch over the construction. "My husband passed away fifteen years ago," was her short reply and when Ben discovered that she was starting this endeavor alone, he took it as his personal mission to help her along the way. He was always mindful to ask her opinion and consult her on every detail that needed to be discussed or changed. There was a fondness for her that had been growing with all of their interludes.
She could not tell if his smiles and side-glances alluded to more than just friendly discourse. Mme. Giry did not have the courage to ask him, but smiled to herself whenever she caught his eyes twinkling at her. She liked the look of him and was fond of his gentle personality and respectful manner. As the weeks progressed, she found herself primping in the mirror more than usual if she had to go the construction site.
Erik took it upon himself to scrutinize every board and frame that the workers had put up during the day, and lurked about the construction site at night. He would report back of any discrepancies he found or made suggestions for certain room layouts. Mme. Giry knew that he secretly wanted to be included in the building's plan and development, even if he didn't tell her so outright. She indulged him by accepting his blueprints and submitting them to Ben to use at Ben's own discretion. Erik had promised there were to be no more secrets, no more hidden rooms, and no more lies. She felt confident that he understood this was her project.
Ben never asked who her mysterious architect might have been, though he might have speculated. He learned early in life that a gentleman should never ask the secrets of a lady he admires. Still, he appreciated the designs and never made mention to Mme. Giry of the brilliance behind them. Secretly, his heart may have been saddened at the thought of another man in her life, but he made sure that Mme. Giry always had fresh roses awaiting her arrival each day she cam to check the progress of the building.
As it was closer to being completed, Ben asked her to stop coming until it was finished in its entirety. He was tempted to elongate his progress if only to spend more time with her, but his years of experience and diligence to his work would not let him. The school was finished two weeks before schedule. He made sure he was dapper the day she was to complete the final inspection with him.
He stood up straight as he saw her carriage drawing near. As always, her hooded horseman held her hand as she stepped out, but Ben was surprised to see a younger maiden emerge out of the carriage as well. He did not need to ask, the young woman was an exact replica of her mother. He bowed courteously to the pair. Mme. Giry softly laughed, "You are so traditional, Ben." She turned to Meg, "This is my daughter, Meg Giry. I wanted her to see it finished. Will it be all right if she accompanies us?"
Ben took Meg's hand warmly, "Of course it is. It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear." Meg simply curtsied and looked back to her mother. Ben held out his hand to lead the way. He asked Mme. Giry as he handed the keys out to her, "Would you like the honor?"
Giddy, Mme. Giry took the keys and feverishly turned the lock as Ben held the double door opened for them. The clean smell of newly lumbered wood collided with them as they made their way into the lobby. Madame Giry "ooo-ed" and "ahh-ed" over the inlayed Queen Anne hardwood floor and ornate crystal windows. Ben even took it upon himself to start a fire in the fireplace that was the main attraction of the lobby. He watched her walk the length of the room stopping occasionally to trace her hand along the wooded frames. She turned to Meg, "Isn't this beautiful?" Meg only nodded as Mme. Giry beamed back at Ben. "It is so elegant." She was standing so picturesque framed by the flooding light of the window. Ben was so enraptured by the hairs framing her face that he almost forgot that there was more to show them.
The ballet training room seemed to go on for miles with the installation of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Letting go of her mother's hand, Meg glided to one of the balance bars. Mme. Giry looked on as her daughter practiced a few steps. Looking back at the mirrors Clarise absent-mindedly fixed her figure and appearance in the reflection and saw Ben softly chuckle to himself. He coughed softly to break the awkward moment. His smile was so warm and genuine that Clarise found it difficult to keep her ears from turning pink. She smiled gratefully at him and walked back to Meg. "See," Mme. Giry whispered, "This will be a new start for the two of us. You can help me teach. Daughter, or not, you were my best dancer. You can lead this school to greatness, I know it."
The stage was magnificent and perfectly proportioned to the building. There was enough room for a full troop, but even the smallest performance wouldn't feel empty or overwhelmed. Meg cautiously headed to the front of the stage to look over the audience. There were four seating boxes overhead and Meg looked into each one as if searching for someone. Lost in her rapture, Mme. Giry and Ben left Meg on the stage and headed behind the velvet curtains.
Backstage, the dressing area was carefully designed to accommodate the soon-to-be frenzy of dancers Mme. Giry had began to imagine in her head. There was enough storage area for props and costumes. She went back to the make-up counters and sat in one of the seats. Looking into the mirror, she saw Erik carefully hidden in the rafters above the stage. Turning quickly to see him, he had already disappeared in old form. She looked back nervously at the mirror to see if Erik was still there. Anxiety only filled her mind for a moment and she was startled as Ben came into view. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Erik was only hiding himself from Ben. "I did not mean to startle you, Madame," he said, concerned.
"Oh, it was nothing, Ben. I was lost in a moment," she smiled radiantly at him. "Being back here brings back so many old memories of my old life I thought I had forgotten."
He asked, "Were you a stage dancer as well?"
"Long ago," she answered. Feeling her pride swell in her chest she asked, "Have you ever been to Paris?"
"Once, as a young boy," Ben enjoyed this moment of friendliness. "And even then, I found it horribly busy and too loud. I am much more suited to this country life, I think. My grandfather was helping with the construction of the new dormitories in the opera house. The Opera Populaire, I think it was. My father went along to help and I accompanied him."
"What a small world this is!" Madame Giry exclaimed. "For those were the same dormitories that I lived most of my life in. To think that I have been able to see your families work firsthand and not known it."
Ben smiled, "Then how fortunate that we were to meet in Troyes." He laughed, "Let us hope, then, that you will not be plagued with ghosts or phantoms while you are here." Seeing her smile falter, he quickly added, "I hope that I did not offend you. I have only heard rumors and tales from Paris and your ill-fated opera house."
"That is all they were. Stories and rumors," she looked back into the mirror. "There are no such things as ghosts and goblins. If there ever was a 'Phantom' I am sure there was a real man behind him. A lonely man who deserved better than what this life gave him." She turned back to Ben, smiling at her surroundings, she said, "This is perfect. This is everything I hoped it would be and more."
"I still have one more area to show you, my dear," he said as he held out his hand to help her out of the seat.
Ben finally led mother and daughter to their living quarters and Mme. Giry felt immediately at home as she walked into the main living space. Ben stood patiently as they went from room to room. Mme. Giry was carefully planning how she was to place her furniture and other belongings to make it her own. Meg looked content as she followed her mother before asking which room was to be hers. Ben showed the pair the three bedrooms placed in a row. Modesty stopped him from asking whom the third room was for.
When they came back out, Mme. Giry warmly embraced Ben, kissing him twice on both of his ever-reddening cheeks.
"You are pleased, then?" he softly asked her.
"Ben, it is beautiful," she said breathlessly, twirling in a small circle. "I could never imagine anything more perfectly suited that what you have made for us. Thank you. We will moved in within the week."
As he walked them back to the front door, Ben couldn't stop smiling in spite of himself. The daughter who was so quiet and reserved was now excitedly talking to her mother about how to set up the school. In the lobby, he doused the fire with water and led them back to the courtyard. Carefully removing the key from the lock, it was with certain pride that he handed Mme. Giry the keys to her new home. She cooed once more, "Ben, I cannot thank you enough for the beautiful work you did."
"I feel guilty, almost, accepting your praise," Ben smiled humbly. "I must confess that your design plans were some of the best I have seen. I simply brought those plans to reality. Whoever made them is the real genius."
Mme. Giry nervously smiled and looked at her horseman waiting for their return. "Thank you," she looked back at Ben, "I will be sure to pass that along." Locking the front door behind her, she turned to Ben. "My friend is always happy to hear that his work is valued. I know that it took him a lot of time and effort creating this for us."
"Well, when a man is captured at the heart by a beautiful woman, he is capable of many great things," he sighed with a slightly disappointed tone. "Be sure to give him my congratulations of a wonderful success. I am sure it is not any man that can win your affections."
Mme. Giry finally understood Ben's intentions and careful questions. Desperately in need of guidance, she turned to her horseman to think of an appropriate response, but found no help from him. She fought with herself as she thought of the best way to let Ben know about Erik's significance to her without giving Erik away, but couldn't articulate the thoughts in her head. "No, Ben it is not that. He is – he is," she stammered.
He stopped her from continuing. "He is a lucky man, indeed." Ben looked only somewhat pained as he tipped his hat to her to bid her farewell. "Madame Giry," he turned to Meg, "Mademoiselle."
Mme. Giry awkwardly watched him walk slowly to his horse and cart. She wanted him to stop, but did not know how she could. So she stood helplessly at her carriage and watched him drive away.