XXXII
"We never said out love was evergreen, or as unchanging…oops," Christine winced as she hit an off note, "I'm sorry Angel."
That's fine Christine," Erik replied, "it is a high note, though it should not be too difficult if you have been practising."
"Why did you have to choose such a difficult song?" Christine asked, "you must know how busy its been in the ballet."
"That is no excuse!" Erik nearly shouted, "now try again."
Christine left the lesson in low spirits, for the past few weeks the songs and his expectations had become increasingly difficult. It seemed that every practice she left feeling tired and with a sense of hopelessness. Each day it was a new aria from a different opera and each day she would stay until she either perfected it or, like today, he let her go.
"Christine!" Meg called, jogging up beside her friend, "hey you look upset, is something wrong?"
"No Meg," Christine replied, pasting a smile on her face, "what was it you wanted?"
"Just to catch up with you," Meg admitted, "and to see if you maybe wanted to go out tonight?"
"Out? Out where?" Christine asked.
"Just out," Meg said, "you do know that there is an entire city outside of these walls don't you?
"I don't know Meg…final rehearsal is tomorrow."
"Aww, please Christine?" Meg pouted, "it'll be a lot of fun."
Christine sighed and finally nodded her head, "Fine, but not too late."
"Agreed, come on! We have to get the others."
The next day at rehearsal Meg and Christine sat off to the side and watched as Carlotta strutted about the stage. It was somewhat amusing, except for the horrible singing that accompanied the strutting.
"She's terrible," Meg groaned.
"I don't know," Christine shrugged, "she could be decent if she had some lessons…a lot of lessons. I mean, she does have a fairly good range."
Meg stared at Christine, "Well If you say so."
"Miss Guidicelli!" Monsieur Reyer exclaimed as Carlotta let out an aggravated grunt, "please."
"This is not working!" she exclaimed, "you are playing too slow."
"This is the proper tempo," Monsieur Reyer sighed.
"Then make it faster!"
"Fine, fine," he muttered, "from the top then?"
"Fine!"
"Do you still stand by what you said?" Meg asked Christine.
"I said she has a good range, not a good attitude…or any sense of timing."
Meg giggled and turned back to watch the stage, "You know what Christine?"
"Hmm?"
"Some day we could be the stars."
"I don't think so," Christine murmured.
"I'm serious Christine."
"Maybe you could Meg," Christine said, "you're an amazing dancer and could easily be prima ballerina, but not me."
"I remember, when we were really small and your papa worked here," Meg mused, "that you used to sing while he played. You'd do it whenever maman and I went over to your apartment. It was a long time ago, but I remember that you had a really nice voice Christine…you could be a singer."
"I don't think so Meg," Christine murmured.
"You used to love to sing Christine," Meg said sadly, "whatever-"
She was cut off when a loud crash and Carlotta's shrill scream ripped through the air. Both Meg and Christine jumped to their feet and looked out at the stage. A large prop had been knocked over and it was now laying right beside Carlotta.
"Is everyone alright?" Monsieur Reyer asked, "for goodness sakes, what happened?"
"I can't tell you Monsieur," a stagehand said as he and another tried to correct the prop, "we just left for a moment, it wasn't one of us…must have been a ghost."
"Well is anyone hurt?" Monsieur Reyer demanded, "as long as no one was hurt."
"Everyone is fine," Antoinette assured him, "just a little shaken."
"What happened?" Monsieur Lefevre demanded as he rushed onto the stage.
"Just an accident Monsieur," Antoinette said, "everyone is fine."
"Accident?" he sighed, "there are no 'accidents' in the Opera Populaire. When was the last time there was a real 'accident?'"
"Monsieur," Antoinette said softly.
"A note?" he asked glumly, "well, he hasn't sent one of those in a while, give it here."
Monsieur Lefevre snatched the note from Antoinette's hand and tore it open. His eyes gleaned over the note, widening slightly before he shoved it into his pocket.
"What did it say?" Monsieur Reyer asked.
"Nothing," he sighed, "please continue with your rehearsal. It is opening night after all…oh Madame Giry if you could meet me in my office after rehearsal is finished."
"Of course Monsieur."
Erik watched as Monsieur Lefevre shoved the note into his pocket without a word to the others regarding its contents. He frowned and turned away from the scene bellow him. It was the first time that he had trouble getting the manager to do as he said.
Antoinette knocked on the door of the manager's office. Within seconds Monsieur Lefevre's voice called her inside. She closed the door quietly and stepped up to the desk. Monsieur Lefevre gave her a weak smile and motioned for her to take a seat.
"Good afternoon Madame Giry," he said as he scanned over some papers.
"It is evening Monsieur Lefevre," she corrected, "and what is it you needed me for?"
"Have you received any notes from our friend lately Madame?" he asked.
"Non, not until today, why?"
"Well he has been sending them to me lately," he said, pulling a small stack of notes out of his desk drawer, "they all request the same thing."
"And what is that?"
"He wants the Opera Populaire to fire La Carlotta," he replied, "he has been asking, or demanding as it may be, for me to do so for the past two months. It wasn't until today that anything bad has happened."
"Then why don't you comply with his demands?"
"You know very well why I don't comply," he said irritably, "let go of La Carlotta? I don't think so Madame, she is the biggest money bringer of this theatre, the most popular singer in the country. Besides, then we would have to hold auditions, and that could take months and cost an extremely large sum of money. Its just not possible, we would have to cancel performances…for once I cannot comply with his demands."
"I see, but you cannot expect him to be happy about this. For years he has had his way, and to have that change…"
"I know, I know…I'm afraid that this may be a hard time for the residents of the theatre…but surely he must know that his demands are insane!"
"Has that ever stopped him before?" Antoinette asked.
"No, I suppose not," he sighed, "I sometimes wish that I was not in this mess you know? I was so excited when I bought this place. And then the troubles began…you will no doubt be wanting to get back to your girls. Thank you for your time, and if you receive any notes-"
"I will be sure to bring them to you," she said, "good night Monsieur Lefevre."
"Good night Madame Giry."
Six months passed in which Monsieur Lefevre found himself using every grovelling skill he had ever learned to his fullest extent. Accidents riddles the stage whenever Carlotta was on it and with every accident came an equally terrible tantrum. Still, rehearsals continued and shows went on.
Erik became increasingly annoyed with the manager during these months and found his skills and imagination being stretched to come up with threats that did not directly harm the diva or any of the other performers. His goal was to frighten them without jeopardizing the performances that they were rehearsing for.
"I will give them a rest," Erik muttered and he scribbled out yet another note, "for a time…"
Meanwhile, as the drama of the theatre continued Erik also found himself being confronted with a new set of problems for himself. His lessons with Christine started to become more frequent, moving from twice a week to four times a week. This was partially due to him and partly due to her. She had wanted to practice more and he was not about to argue, though now he regretted it somewhat.
"Angel do you think that we could not practice today?" she asked one evening.
"Why not?" Erik asked irritably.
"Its just that the masquerade is tonight," Christine said.
"And?" Erik asked, "I don't expect you to be attending."
"No, but I'm a little tired and thought that maybe…just this once."
Erik sighed, it wasn't that he was really angry that she wanted to leave, and it was fair that he give her the night off. But he had been looking forward to the lesson all day and now it was being snatched away from him.
"Perhaps we could make a deal," he said, "you sing a short song for me, anyone you would like and I will let you go early."
"Maybe you could sing a song for me as well?" she said hopefully, "just a short one."
"Very well my dear, but you go first."
Christine nodded her head and chose an old lullaby that her father had taught her. It was a favourite of hers and she would often sing it if her Angel asked her to choose a song. Sometimes she wondered if he ever got tired of hearing it, but he never told her to choose another.
"Your turn," she said.
"Very well…I have the perfect song, giving the day," he said, "Masquerade, paper faces on parade. Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you…"
Christine hurried from the chapel and up to the dormitory where Meg was waiting. The room was empty except them as most of the girls were at supper,
"Where were you?" Meg demanded, tossing Christine her shoes, "I thought you were lost or something!"
"I'm sorry Meg," Christine said as she slipped on the shoes, "but I'm here now aren't I?"
"Well yes," Meg said, "but that isn't the point Christine, what if everyone had come back?"
"Then we wouldn't have to go through with your foolish plan?"
"Oh stop it," Meg sighed, "and take this."
Christine rolled her eyes and took the small mask from Meg, "You do know that we'll be caught?"
"Not if we're careful," Meg said confidently, "now follow me."
Christine followed her friend through the theatre until they reached the main hall. Music and laughter seemed to fill the room as costumes and masks milled about. Meg put her mask on and motioned for Christine to do the same, then she wandered over to the side wall and stopped there.
"If we stay out of the way no one will notice us," she reasoned, "besides, all we wanted was to see the party."
"If you say so," Christine murmured.
Christine and Meg remained at the side of the room for nearly an hour before Christine got bored. The music was lively, the costumes were amazing and the jewels that the aristocrats were wearing were more amazing still, but it wasn't all that interesting.
"Can we go yet?" she asked, suppressing a yawn.
"If you insist," Meg sighed.
"I do," she said.
"Excuse me Mademoiselle?"
Christine and Meg turned back to see a young man smiling at them from beneath a small black mask. Meg and Christine looked at each other and then back at the young man. His smile faltered slightly.
"I don't mean to be rude," Meg said, "but which one of us were you speaking to."
He blushed slightly and motioned to Christine, "I was wondering if I could perhaps have a dance?"
"Oh…well I-uh," Christine murmured.
"Go on," Meg urged, elbowing her friend in the side.
"Yes," Christine replied, taking the man's offered hand.
Meg and Christine hurried back up to the dormitory, trying not to giggle too loudly. Several of the girls groaned softly and murmured when they entered and quickly changed and slipped into bed.
The next morning during rehearsal Monsieur Lefevre came on the stage followed by two other men. Antoinette and Monsieur Reyer both sighed and rolled their eyes as they stopped and Monsieur Lefevre started to go over the different aspects of the theatre.
"Monsieur Lefevre!" Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, "we are in the middle of a rehearsal."
"Oh, well pardon me," Monsieur Lefevre said, "I was just showing our new patron the theatre."
"Our new Patron?" Antoinette asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Yes, Monsieur Duchamp," he replied, "Monsieur I would like you to meet Monsieur Reyer and out ballet mistress Madame Giry. Madame et Monsieur, this is Fredric Duchamp and his son Albert."
"That's him!" Meg gasped.
"Who's who?" Christine asked, turning to see who her friend was looking at.
"That's the boy you danced with at the party."
"What?" Christine gasped, "no, it can't be."
"It is," Meg teased, "you danced with the new patron's son…and he's more handsome without the mask."
Christine gave a low moan and shook her head, "Come on Meg, we have to finish stretching."
"Fine, but if I were you I'd try to catch his attention…I think he liked you"
"Meg!" Christine exclaimed, "besides…I'm only thirteen."
Meg shrugged, "He looks like he's only, what, sixteen?"
Christine rolled her eyes and walked across the stage to where the other girls were stretching. Meg sighed and followed her.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please read and review, we're entering the home stretch my friends!
