Disclaimer: Erik, Christine and Co are all property of Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber etc. I own the plot.

Chapter Three: Erik's Mother

"Where are you staying?" Erik asked the woman in his arms. Christine leaned back a little so she could see his face properly. "At the Le Château inn. But I can only stay there until lunchtime tomorrow; the room has been booked by someone else for tomorrow night. Do you know of any good places to stay?" Erik looked thoughtful for a moment. "You could stay with me, if you wanted." He said, looking a bit unsure of himself. Christine was surprised. "You? Where are you living?"

"With Madame and Meg Giry. They have been most kind to me over the past few days. Clever little Meg even managed to convince the mob that the Opera Ghost had drowned whilst buying her mother time to rescue me. The girl also stole my mask and a few other possessions from right under the mob's noses." Christine smiled and made a mental note to buy her friend something nice the next time they met.

"But Madame Giry doesn't have enough room for anybody else, her house isn't that big. She doesn't even know that you are with me or that you have invited me." Christine spotted the gleam in Erik's eyes that meant that he was concealing something from her. "Or does she?" Erik put an innocent look on his face.

"She does know that I am out but not where. She gave her full consent for me to bring a guest back with me. Do not worry about that."

"You have already asked her?" Christine exclaimed. Erik gave a smirk.

"The Opera Ghost always plans ahead." He told her. "Only I didn't mention it because I was afraid that you would think me too forward."

"I don't think you could ever be too forward for me, Angel." She whispered with a blush. "May I ask an unusual question?" He nodded encouragingly; she was oblivious to how nervous her question had made him. What could she possibly want to know? He pushed aside the worried thoughts as she opened her mouth to speak. "What is your name?"

Erik could not stop himself from laughing in relief and mirth. Poor Christine looked humiliated; her cheeks were deep pink because of her blushing. He sobered himself as quickly as he could. "I'm sorry dear but I am astonished at you. You have pledged your love to a man whose name you do not even know." She pouted and he immediately stopped playing games. "My name…is Erik, spelt with a K."

She smiled. "What about your second name?"

"It is Destler. Erik Charles Destler is my full name. My middle name is Charles after my father; he did not care for my face and was a very good man. He died of pneumonia when I was five."

"You poor thing. What about your mother?"

"I wish not to speak of Madeline. She hated my face. All of her friends deserted her when they heard about me. She blamed me for the way I was born! She didn't seem to realise that I was not having the best time of it either. She would never come near me when I was a child; I was raised mainly by my father and my governess. When Madeline gave me my first mask on my fourth birthday, father was furious. They had a huge argument about it that night. One year later, father fell ill with serious pneumonia and died. That was the hardest goodbye I have ever had to make." Erik's face was still composed but his eyes gave his emotions away. They looked slightly watery. "Oh, you poor dear." Said Christine as she pulled him to her. She felt him shaking and suspected that he was crying into her shoulder. The peace and quiet was shattered by the sound of footsteps. Erik jerked his head up to reveal a dry face. Christine grabbed him by the hand and they ran off into the night.

TBC…

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