One chapter closer to Erik…be patient…
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THE DAWN THROUGH THE NIGHT
Part 1
CHAPTER 6
May, 1876 – June, 1876
Christine and Brigitte meet again.
When Christine had left the de Chagny estate, she had no idea where she was going. The only place she was familiar with was the Opera Populaire, but the memories it held were still painful and searing, even after almost four years.
Paris held no light for her anymore, the loss of her angel and teacher had robbed her of any joy that may have remained in Paris. He had possessed the antidote to the drudge that life had become; and he was gone, hung four years ago for crimes she now knew, he had no way of controlling. He had known no better than what life had taught him.
The reality that he had died without ever knowing the love of a woman ripped her soul to its depth. He had only known violence, hatred, pain, and anger; how could anyone expect him to understand compassion, forgiveness, gentleness, and love.
His genius, his voice, his music – all gone…never to be heard or seen again; the longing she had seen in his beautiful green eyes, and tragic paradox of his handsome features…he had been the only one of his kind…and he was gone.
Four years of growing up had shown her the true depths of her feelings for him. She knew now that she had admired him, feared him; she had been attracted to him on both a mental and physical plane. He was lustful, passionate, and out of control and he both frightened and excited her.
She had barely known the man…but what she had known made her even more certain that, if she had been allowed to spend more time with him, she would have loved him for a lifetime, despite his shortcomings.
As it was, she would never be free of him. He possessed her mind and soul with his dancing, soulful eyes, and self-doubting, hidden smile. His voice reverberated in her mind every time she lay down to rest.
The lull of the carriage eventually rocked her to sleep and she blissfully slept until the carriage pulled up in front of the Opera Populaire. She needed to find Brigitte and possibly stay with her until she got on her feet.
The de Changy family had sent her away with little money and no security; she did not even have the option of keeping her married name. She had shamed them by not conceiving a child within the first six months of marriage; something she was thankful for, now that the marriage had failed. Although, it was not from lack of trying on Raoul's part, he had taken her every night, whether she wanted it or not; up until the night he handed her the divorce papers.
She instructed the carriage driver to place her few belongings inside the main entrance of the opera house, and she would see to them from there. Once she entered the building, it was like turning back the calendar.
The former grandness seemed to have dissipated, leaving a dullness that sent shivers up her spine. It was as though the building was mourning the loss of its former maestro, and nothing would comfort its grieving.
She went through the main lobby doors and entered the theater. The old smell of make-up, resin, paint, and leather came wafting back to her and she smiled; that smell gave her a feeling of belonging that she hadn't felt in years.
There were a few people shuffling about on the stage as she approached, none of them were Brigitte. Christine walked up the side steps toward one of the ballerinas.
"Excuse me, but could you tell me where Brigitte Giry is?" she asked with authority.
The young girl looked at her and smiled, not certain whether she should tell this complete stranger where her teacher and friend was. She finally smiled and answered.
"She is back stage, to the right, talking to the managers." She replied. Christine thanked her and went back stage.
The normal hustle and bustle of the theater was in full swing, but there did not seem to be the normal enthusiasm that had once been evident on the faces of those involved. The attitudes and general preparation of the players seemed less determined and professional.
Christine saw Madam Giry and started toward her. The woman looked to have not aged at all, which perturbed Christine, as she had aged a great deal in the almost four years she had been gone.
Brigitte looked away from the manager and caught sight of Christine headed toward her. Her face lit up and she literally ran to greet her.
After the initial hugging was over, Madam Giry could not help the tears that coated her face. She had not cried for some time, and they were cleansing tears for a soul that was turning to stone.
"Christine, you've grown up…you look as beautiful as a woman as you did as a child." Brigitte commented with a smile.
Christine laughed and hugged the older woman once again. "Nonsense, I look a frightful mess."
Brigitte pulled back from her and examined her from head to toe. The only difference she saw was the lack of life in Christine's eyes. What happened to that glow that had always been present on her beautiful face?
"How long are you here for? Where is Raoul?" Brigitte asked, curious as to why he had not come in.
Christine glanced down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "Can we go somewhere and talk?" She asked, quietly. "Some place private."
"Of course." Madam Giry replied, concern in her tone.
They left the opera house and proceeded up the sidewalk toward a small café nestled in the corner of the street.
Madam Giry bought them both a cup of coffee and a pastry, and they sat down at a table in the back of the dining room.
After several minutes of silence, Madam Giry asked, "What is wrong Christine…the life is gone from your eyes."
Christine smiled sadly and began the tragic story of the last three years of her life. There were no tears, as she had shed them many months ago when she realized that she and she alone was responsible for the death of her angel and mentor, the failure of a marriage that should have never taken place, and the shattered pieces of her heart that echoed of a lost love.
"Where is his grave, Brigitte…I must be near him." Christine mourned, tears finally flowing.
Brigitte creased her brow, "Raoul never told you?"
Christine cocked her head sideways and lowered her eyes, "What should he have told me?"
Brigitte shook her head and lowered it, "Everything we assumed about him that night were wrong…he wasn't guilty of murder or rape." Brigitte said.
Christine's chin began to quiver, as she held back her tears; she listened to every word Brigitte was saying
"Joseph Bouquet not only committed the rapes, he drew a gun on the Phantom before he was hung; it was self defense." Brigitte stated, hope filling the room with each word she spoke.
"All the wasted years…" Christine choked, "Why did he not say a word?" She could not stop her body from quivering and her voice from wavering.
"The only explanation I can come up with, is that he felt it would make no difference..." Brigitte stated, "…he knew we would not have listened to him."
Brigitte's voice cracked from the pent up emotion, "I went to his prison cell the night before he was due to be hung, and told him I would not miss him and that I was going to tell him to leave and never come back."
Christine looked up into the older woman's tearing eyes, "Did Raoul tell you anything about Erik?" Brigitte asked.
"Erik?" Christine repeated, as if it were a prayer. "Is that his name?"
Brigitte laughed lightly, "Yes, that's his name."
"No, he never told me anything about him…nothing at all." Christine said, her annoyance at Raoul growing more and more with each passing moment.
Brigitte and Christine sat for hours talking about the past that Christine knew nothing about, the testimonies that sat him free, and the years that Brigitte had been searching for him.
"I cannot find him…" Brigitte cried, "…he had attempted suicide in the past…I only pray…" She looked at Christine with remorse, "His mother is still living…he never spoke of her."
Christine barely heard about the mother, her face had gone deathly pale, "Suicide?" Her hand went to her mouth to catch her gasp, "I never knew…how?"
Brigitte skimmed over the details of Erik's three attempted suicides. "The first two times were in Persia and were by poisoning: he did things in Persia that he was very ashamed of, even though he was as much a victim as anyone; the third time was shortly after he got back in Paris – he was a much darker man by this point." Brigitte's eyes had grown distant and mellowed. "He started a fight with a nobleman simply to be issued a challenge; he allowed himself to be run through with the sword, but he survived because of the doctor I brought in to care for him."
Brigitte smiled sadly at the memory of the man she had known.
"Erik did not speak to me for weeks after that…he despises doctors." Brigitte chuckled quietly, remembering the incident as if it happened yesterday. "When he did speak to me again, he thanked me for saving his 'worthless' hide, as he called it."
Christine was terrified that he would try again.
"Now that I know he is alive, I must find him…and see what it is I feel for him." Christine explained.
"We all betrayed him Christine…he may not want anything to do with us." Brigitte added.
Christine knew this, but was unwilling to accept it. She had to believe that Erik still held fond feelings for her.
Over the next couple of weeks, they waited for word from the detectives that Erik had been found; but no word came.
One month after Christine arrived at the Opera Populaire, she began to suspect that something was just not right.
She had her suspicions confirmed and approached Brigitte about her discovery.
"Brigitte, things just got a bit more complicated…" Christine stated, as she sat in Madam Giry's kitchen, drinking tea.
Brigitte looked up at her with a puzzled look in her eyes, "Why is that, Christine?"
Christine stood up and walked over to the older woman, her mother in every way except blood, "I'm pregnant."
TBC
