The Girl Next Door
Erik considered the trembling girl sat on his sofa with a bloody towel pressed against her face. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been leaving her apartment looking rather incredible. Now she was shaking and although the tears had stopped, she was still gasping a little.
"Where you attacked?" He asked. She nodded.
"A… a man. He tried to take my bag. I… I had pepper spray and I… he chased me and… he had a knife…" She mumbled, unable to finish.
"I'm going to call the police and an ambulance. I think you may need stitches." He said, reaching for the telephone.
Christine sniffed hard and winced as another stab of pain went through her cheek. Erik dialled the triple nine emergency number and waited.
"I need the police and an ambulance to 142 Gaston place, apartment 5a. My neighbour has been attacked on her way home." He said calmly. "Yes. My name is Erik Destler. Thank you."
He put the phone down.
"They'll be a few minutes." He said and knelt, moving the towel away from the gash on her right cheek. There was a scrape on her left, where she had been pushed against the wall. Not that Erik knew that. Unless she got stitches very soon, it was likely that she would have heavy scarring, he knew.
"Would you like some water?" He asked. Christine shook her head. She felt ill. "Have you been drinking tonight?"
"I had two drinks." She whispered. Erik fetched a damp cloth from the kitchen and wiped away a little of the blood that was drying on her face. Her eyes were now red from crying.
The intercom buzzed and he answered it.
"Yes?"
"This is the police and medical assistance that was requested by an Erik Destler."
"Come right up." Erik said and held the door button down so they could get in. Less than two minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Two policemen and two ambulance people stood outside. Erik stood back to let them in and one of the medics crossed to Christine.
"What happened?" A policeman asked, taking out a notepad.
"I found her on the floor in the corridor. I think she may have fallen." Erik said. "She's not particularly coherent. But she told me that someone attempted to rob her. She used pepper spray on her attacker and ran home but he followed her. There are CCTV cameras downstairs, they may help."
"What's her name?"
"Christine Daae." Erik replied.
"We've got a laceration on the right cheek and a scrape on the left, but no other physical injuries." One of the medics said. "We'd better take you to hospital; you're going to need stitches on that. Have you got any family we can contact?"
"No… I don't have any." Christine mumbled.
"I'll come with her." Erik said.
He hated hospitals. He always had. The sterile stench, the cold blankness and neutrality of it and the simple fact that people were dying within these walls. He glared as a nurse walked past, looking through a file and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair.
Why the hell was he here anyway? It's not like he even knew the woman. Stupid conscience. But he couldn't have left her there.
He couldn't have.
"Mr Destler?" He looked up and saw Christine standing nearby. Her clothes were still blood-soaked but her face was now clean, with a neat row of stitches along the cut, which was about six centimetres long, slashing down towards the corner of her mouth. He stood.
"How do you feel?"
"Tired. In pain. But I've got some painkillers to take once I get home." She said quietly.
"I'll call a taxi." Erik said.
They stood in the corridor of floor 5 and Christine took out her keys.
"Thanks again, Mr Destler."
"You're welcome." He nodded. "If you need anything…"
She smiled and closed the door. Erik let himself into his own apartment and looked around. There was blood on the floor and on the sofa. He went to fetch cleaning products before looking at the clock. It was nearly four in the morning.
It could wait, he decided, pulling off his bloodstained shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket and heading for bed.
Christine, in the mean time, was already in bed, waiting for the painkillers to kick in. They were taking their time. Her mind replayed the entire incident. It was a little fuzzy now and she could only really remember clearly what had happened once she'd been found by Erik Destler.
That sure wasn't how she had planned on properly introducing herself to her new neighbour. It was strange, she hadn't once thought about him since he'd found her. But now her mind was filled with curious thoughts about him.
She tried to draw up a picture of him in her mind. Dark hair, quite long but smoothed down. He was pale, paler even than herself and his eyes had been… what colour? She couldn't recall and made a point to check next time she saw him. He'd been really tall, well over six feet and pretty thin. But not the unhealthy kind of thin. When he'd picked her up, he'd done it easily, so she guessed he was well muscled beneath the shirt. Age? In his thirties, she guessed. He had to be older than her twenty-four years; he had a more worldly look about him. And he wore a white mask on the right side of his face. It had been beautifully made, perhaps custom made.
Christine brushed her stitched cheek with fingertips and winced. She'd have to buy him something to say thank you. Perhaps a bottle of wine.
And she'd be sure to chill it first.
Christine was late to work on Monday morning and groaned when she realised that the meeting had already started. She threw her coat and bag into her cubicle and dashed to the boardroom, flicking through her file as she opened the door.
"I'm sorry I'm late." She said, as everyone turned to her. Jaws dropped as she took her seat and Firmin gaped in horror.
"Christine, what happened?"
"I was attacked on Saturday night." Christine mumbled. Fantastic, just what she needed to talk about. Meg looked horrified.
"What? When? Oh God, I knew I should have gone with you!"
"Look, its fine. I've been to the police and it's all been sorted out. What's going on in the advertising world?" Christine said firmly, putting an end to the discussion.
At the coffee break, Meg and Sorelli caught up with Christine in the kitchen as she made coffee.
"What happened?" Meg said, looking upset. "Christine, I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault. I was just walking home and this guy attacked me. I got him with pepper spray but he had a knife and he caught me with it as I ran off." Christine said, pouring three cups of coffee for them all. Sorelli whistled.
"Ouch. And you got yourself to the hospital?"
"Not exactly. I got up to my floor and then started blubbering like a baby. Luckily my neighbour found me and he mopped me up a bit and called the police and an ambulance." Christine replied.
Meg and Sorelli exchanged a glance and Christine smiled at them both.
"I'm fine. I was a bit shaken up, but the police spoke to me yesterday and they've got a good chance of catching the guy since he chased me home and got caught on CCTV."
"You're so brave, Christine, I would have been terrified."
"Are you kidding? I was almost wetting myself." Christine joked. Meg smiled weakly and Christine decided it was time to change the subject.
"So, what happened with you and Matt on Saturday night?"
"Oh, wasn't he gorgeous? He's taking me out tomorrow night. Oh, and I would slap you for leaving Stuart all by himself if you weren't already so sorry looking." Meg scolded her.
Christine rolled her eyes.
"Well, thanks for the sympathy, Meg. And I told you that I wasn't looking to meet anyone."
"But he was so sweet!"
"Then you go out with him!"
"I can't, I've got Matt. Anyway, he said he gave you his number. So the balls in your court."
"I don't pay you to gossip, ladies. Let's get back to work." Firmin said as he passed. They all jumped, hurrying back to their desks.
Christine loaded up a basket of food at the supermarket, trying to pack as much as she could. It was easier to get everything done for the next few days. She paused at the wine section and picked out a bottle for Mr Destler.
She drove home quickly and took everything upstairs, putting the frozen food into the freezer before going to the mirror to look at the cut. She sighed. There'd be a scar there. Hopefully it would fade and she wouldn't have to get all self-conscious about it.
Christine slipped the wine bottle into a bag and crossed the hallway to apartment 5a. She knocked and after a few moments the door opened. Erik Destler appeared, dressed very smartly in black trousers, a dark red shirt and a black waistcoat.
"Miss Daae."
"Hi." She smiled a little nervously. "I, er… here." She thrust the bottle at him. "To say thank you. For helping me."
He blinked in surprise and she flushed.
"Well… thanks." She said, before hurrying back to her apartment. He stared at the closed door and then examined the wine bottle. A very, very tiny smile crossed his lips before he turned back into his apartment.
"Isn't it odd how things turn out?" She said idly, watching him. Erik looked across at her.
"Would you care to elaborate?"
"Well… look at us. I would never have imagined that I would end up being engaged to you when I met you."
"Why not?"
"Because you're a very odd man, Erik." She teased. Erik lifted an eyebrow and she laughed. "Well, you are!"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He said haughtily.
She crossed to him and sat down in his lap.
"That's because you're unbelievable stubborn."
"You're talking nonsense."
"You'd better shut me up then."
"I intend to." He growled, lifting her up. She laughed delightedly and buried her face in his thick, dark hair.
Erik woke up with a start and closed his eyes as he remembered the dream. Not again… he should have gotten over those dreams by now. But no. He was still having them. He could not, no matter how hard he tried, forget about her.
She haunted him.
Erik rose from his bed and went into the living room. The moonlight was falling in from the window. His eyes fell upon the bottle of wine that he had been given earlier. It was extremely tempting to pour himself a glass, but he refrained. Drinking in this state of mind would do him no good when he had work in the morning.
He drained a glass of water instead before returning to bed.
Christine was determined not to be late on Tuesday. A wonderfully hot shower woke her up and she washed her hair, rinsing the soap from the thick, dark curls and choosing an outfit for the day. The company wasn't extremely formal but they insisted on smartness. Christine picked out a black skirt, coming to a few inches above her knees and a plain white blouse. You couldn't go wrong with black and white.
She pinned her hair up into a bun with a few loose curls falling down so it wouldn't look too severe. A pair of black shoes, a quick application of eyeliner and mascara and a smear of lip-gloss, she was soon ready to go. She would pick up some breakfast on the way to work; she hated cooking in the morning. She eyed the cut again. It was still horribly red and noticeable, but there was nothing to be done about that.
She picked up her bag and coat and went downstairs. She wondered vaguely what it was that Erik Destler did for a living but the thought was driven from her mind by the more important idea of a cappuccino.
"A cappuccino and a chocolate croissant to go, please." Christine said at the café around the corner from the office. Whilst her order was being fetched, Christine searched through her purse for the right change.
"Christine?"
She looked up and saw Stuart staring at her from a nearby table. She smiled nervously.
"Hi Stuart."
"What happened?" he said, looking at her injury. Her coffee arrived and she handed over the money before carrying her things to his table.
"I got attacked on Saturday night."
"What happened to the well-lit streets?" Stuart asked cynically. Christine laughed hesitantly.
"Yeah, well… taxi next time."
"Damn, it looks painful." He winced, looking at it.
"It's not a bundle of laughs." She admitted. Stuart smiled.
"Have you got time to chat?" He asked. Christine looked at the clock and smiled.
"Sure."
Stuart, she discovered, worked in the accountancy offices three streets away from her own workplace.
"It's as dull as hell, but it's a living." He said dryly. "Hopefully I'll find something that'll actually interest me one of these days."
"Hey, numbers are fun." Christine teased. "All that adding and subtracting."
"And sometimes we get to multiply, if we've been really good. It's a thrill alright." He said in mock-solemnity. She smiled and finished her drink.
"I'd better go. I was late yesterday morning and I can't do it two days in a row."
"Yeah, I'd better be going too." Stuart said.
They walked along the first street together and then Stuart paused, looking down at her.
"Christine, I know you said you're not really looking for anything but… can we at least be friends?"
"Of course. That's a given." She told him.
"Great. Then I'll meet you for breakfast tomorrow morning as well?" he grinned an adorably cheeky smile. Christine smiled too.
"Sure. Same time tomorrow."
"Great!" He said enthusiastically before moving off down the street. Christine watched him go before continuing to her own workplace.
She had a good day at work. Piangi, she discovered, liked the design, Firmin was delighted that their client was pleased, Meg was seeing Matt that night and was in high spirits and Christine received a phone call that her piano would be delivered that night.
She rushed home to make sure that the space was properly cleared for the instrument. It arrived at 6:30 and after some extremely awkward manoeuvring in the elevator, she and three delivery men managed to shift it into the spot by the window. Christine signed for its delivery and thanked the men just as Erik walked down the corridor. He glanced curiously at her, red-faced and panting from the effort of moving the heavy piano. She smiled at him.
"Good afternoon Mr Destler."
"Good afternoon, Miss Daae."
"Anything else you need, Miss?" The delivery man said. Christine looked around.
"No, that's everything. Thanks again."
He left and Christine smiled at Erik again. He noticed the piano and lifted an eyebrow.
"I wasn't aware that you played." He commented.
"Only for pleasure. It's a hobby more than anything else." She said. "I love music though."
Something we have in common, Erik thought. Christine jumped as the phone started to ring from inside her apartment. She said goodbye and hurried inside to answer it.
"Hello?" She said, flicking the kettle on.
"Christine, its Stuart." She nearly dropped the phone in surprise.
"Stuart! Hi! …wait, how did you get my number?"
"I asked Meg. Only she was out with Matt. So I, er… went to the restaurant where they're having dinner. And got the number from her."
She could almost hear him blushing. Christine smiled.
"That's sweet. And a little stalker-ish."
"No, no stalking. Just plenty of enthusiasm. Anyway, I just wanted to call and say… well, not much. I really don't know why I called." He laughed nervously and Christine grinned.
"OK, well since we're already talking we could just forget the whole stalking thing and just talk like normal people."
"Not stalking!" He insisted and Christine laughed.
A/N: Aw, thank you all for the lovely reviews. Glad to know I'm still loved! However I'm going to have to work extra hard to make Stuart as un-Max as possible. I'm a little disappointed people think that they're so similar. I hate reusing original characters and completely forgot that I'd used the name Stuart before! So, Stuart and max are not the same. I hope. I'm working on it!
Lotsa luv
Katie