The Girl Next Door

"'Tis the season to be jolly!" Meg warbled as she pranced around the office. Christine looked up in amusement from her desk as Sorelli began to 'fa la la'.

"It's still two weeks until Christmas!" Christine laughed, sending an email. Meg pouted.

"And I'm getting into the holiday spirit!"

"I love Christmas, I can't wait to go and see Mum and Dad." Sorelli said happily, stapling two pieces of paper together and dropping them onto a pile. Christine's smile faded slightly and she opened a new word document as Meg and Sorelli began to discuss their family plans. Carlotta soon joined them.

"Well, my family and I always go away for the holidays. I can't stand this cold weather. I believe we're heading for Spain this year. We have a villa there." She said elegantly.

"Well who doesn't?" Sorelli said innocently.

Christine moved past to collect something from the printer and Carlotta glanced at her.

"What about you?" She asked in a falsely friendly tone.

"What about me?" Christine said, examining the freshly printed paper.

"What are you doing for the holidays?"

"Nothing. I don't tend to celebrate. I go to Mass on Christmas Eve and that's it." Christine said. Carlotta looked appalled.

"How dull!"

"I don't have any family, it seems like a pointless exercise to celebrate by myself." Christine explained. Carlotta wrinkled her perfect nose.

"How very boring it must be. Anyway, must be going. Richard wanted to talk to me before lunch." She pranced off and Christine rolled her eyes to the heavens. Meg laughed.

"She's still annoying you, huh?"

"How can she not annoy you? 'How very boring'. Urgh…" Christine pulled a face and returned to her desk.

Meg followed her, perching on the edge of her desk.

"Are you OK, Christine?"

"I'm fine. But I've got a lot of work to do. Firmin wants the novel sketches before the weekend and that Il Muto poster needs to be copied up and sent out within a week or the theatre will start complaining." Christine replied, tapping away at her keyboard.

"Calm down, Chris. You've got plenty of time."

"No, Meg, I don't." Christine replied. "You're sitting on my folder." Meg jumped up and looked at the clock.

"Five minutes until lunch. I'm going to get my stuff."

"What's wrong?" Stuart asked as soon as Christine came outside at the end of the day. She looked at him.

"Nothing."

"Something is. I'm very intuitive that way. So what is it?" Stuart demanded as they walked towards Gaston Place. Christine smiled.

"It's nothing. Really. Just something someone said today. It annoyed me a little, but I'm over it." She said firmly. Stuart rolled his eyes and then stopped outside a shop, peering inside at the Christmas display.

"Oh, doesn't that look nice?" He said cheerfully, appreciative of the twinkling lights and charming decorations. Christine nodded and said,

"It's pretty. Everyone at work today was going on about Christmas, I'm sick of it already."

"What are you, the Grinch?"

"No, the Grinch had a sense of humour." Christine teased, slipping her arm through his. Stuart looked down at her as they walked the icy streets.

"I wish you could come away with us. But the holiday cottage is barely big enough to hold the family as it is."

"Stuart, for the last time, it's fine." Christine insisted. "And if you apologise for it one more time I'm going to hit you. Just make sure I get an extra-spectacular Christmas present."

"Well, that's a given." Stuart smiled. "I just want to go and buy a newspaper. Won't be a minute."

He disappeared inside a newsagent. Christine rubbed her hands together in an attempt to warm them as the shoppers passed by. How would each of them be spending Christmas, she wondered? That woman with her two small children, was there a father? That teenager, holding hands with her boyfriend, what gifts would they exchange? Christine became so lost in her own musings that she didn't notice Stuart come out of the shop. He waved a hand in front of her face and she jumped.

"What?"

"Just making sure you're still awake." He smiled, taking her hand as they continued down the street.

Christine was a big enough person to admit when she had made a mistake. And that violin had been a big mistake. She had managed to restring it, with the help of some instruction books, had repaired it to a reasonable standard and she had even tuned it.

If only she could play it.

"You could have bought something useful. But no. You bought an instrument you can't play." She muttered to herself as she glared at the violin. She had been struggling to play a simple tune from the book, but for some reason it sounded terrible and Christine couldn't figure out for the life of her why that was.

Luckily there was a knock at the door, saving her from further torment. She answered it and found Erik Destler stood outside, dressed in clothes that would not have looked out of place at a formal gathering.

"Do you have any casual clothes?" She said without meaning to. His eyebrow twitched and she bit her lip. "Sorry. I just… what can I do for you?"

"The information you requested on Il Muto. It slipped my mind whilst I was at the theatre." He handed her a folder. Christine smiled.

"Brilliant. Come on in."

"I-"

"In." She said firmly. "I want to pick your brain for ideas." He stepped inside and followed her to the kitchen, where she flicked the kettle on. "Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee."

She opened the folder and examined the drawings of the sets and costumes. They were magnificently detailed, down to the last button on the jackets and the fold in the curtains on the edge of the stage.

"Did you draw these?" She asked, looking at him. He nodded briefly and she smiled. "Wow. Very impressed."

"Thank you." The kettle boiled and she poured hot water into the coffee pot.

"How long have you been working on Il Muto?"

"Several years, among other projects. I was working abroad when I met Nadir Khan and he instantly commissioned me to finish and direct it."

"Where abroad? You're so lucky, I never go anywhere." Christine commented, taking out the milk and sugar.

"Iran mostly, that was where I met him. Foreign cultures are much more appealing than anything I have found here." He said. Christine smiled.

"Iran… is it nice?"

"Nice isn't really the word. It is a fascinating country." Erik said. Christine glanced down at the pictures again and tapped one.

"This is the Countess's costume?"

"For the second act, yes." She examined it closely, taking it all in.

"I'm starting work on the leaflets, but I don't just want to reproduce the posters. I like the detail in this section," she pointed to a part of the costume, "I could blow that up, incorporate some text and play around with it. If that's OK?"

"It's fine." Erik agreed. She poured them coffee and invited him into the sitting room, spreading the pictures around on the table. Erik watched in a mixture of comprehension and amusement as she animatedly discussed various possibilities. Discussed them with whom, he was unsure. She didn't seem to be addressing him. Eventually she carefully put the papers back into the file.

"I'll scan these onto my computer first thing tomorrow and get them back to you." She said. He nodded and glanced sideways at the violin sitting on the chair. He'd been waiting until she seemed ready to let him talk so he could mention it.

"How are you managing with your new instrument?"

"Don't even mention the horrible thing. I never should have bought it." Christine grumbled, throwing a dark look in the direction of the innocent violin. Erik lifted an eyebrow.

"Has it offended you?"

"Yes. By being completely unplayable."

He picked it up, as well as the bow that lay beside it and played a few notes in quick succession. Christine scowled and said,

"Well… you do it for a living; it's only natural that you would be able to play it." A smirk crossed his face and she sighed. "Fine. The natural talent I thought I had doesn't exist."

"You don't need natural talent. You need to practise. It's selfishness to play something well without working for it." Erik commented, setting the violin carefully down.

"All those instruments you have, you learned each one?"

"No. I'm selfish; it all came very naturally to me." He replied dryly and Christine smiled. "Not that I didn't have to practise in order to perfect them."

Christine stood up and went to place the violin carefully back in its case.

"I set myself an aim; I was hoping to learn a simple song by the time Christmas came. I'll have to do a lot of practising at this rate."

"Why Christmas?"

"It seemed a good target, not too soon but not too far away." She shrugged. "Christmas isn't really a very particular time for me."

"You don't celebrate?" Erik said vaguely, running pale, slender-fingered hands over the piano.

"No one to celebrate with and it's a little pathetic to do it by myself." Christine said, snapping the clasps on the violin case. He looked up, a quizzical look in his green eyes.

"I thought you were seeing that boy."

"That boy is twenty-five." She said with a little grin. "And he's going away with his family, it's their tradition. Anyway, I just go to church on Christmas Eve and then I usually spend the day watching Christmas specials or reading. Hardly a thrilling existence."

She was struck by a sudden thought.

"What about you?"

"Similar circumstances. Except that I don't celebrate it at all. I never have." He said, playing a short, sweet tune on the keys.

"Well, feel free to come to Mass with me. It's a lovely church, very picturesque and the service is always nice." She suggested. He looked at her, his eyes darkened. How did they manage to change colour like that? Different shades, always changing.

"I am not on good terms with the higher power. We have our irresolvable differences." He said, and something in his voice suggested that she should not push for answers.

Not that she would have dared. He was a very intimidating man.

"Your choice. But at least come over for a drink on Christmas Day." She shrugged.

"We'll see." He stood and glanced at the clock. "I have a few things to do. Thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome." She showed him to the door and then turned back to look at the violin case. She really didn't want to practise right now. Having heard Erik Destler play so wonderfully was something of an ego-killer.

Christmas shopping, as so many people know, is something that can either be wonderfully enjoyable or dreaded beyond all belief. For Christine, it was the latter. The idea of pushing through a crowded shopping centre, surrounded by screaming children and pushing customers did not appeal.

Three hours after she had begun her shopping she collapsed in a café and ordered a strong coffee to give her the strength to get home. She checked her list. Only Stuart left to buy for now. Leave the worst until last; she had no idea of what to get him!

As she sat at the table, she went over some ideas in her head, dismissing them one after the other. What did you get for the man you had been seeing for two months? It had to be meaningful but not too… serious. Christine scratched her cheek, staring out of the café window, searching for inspiration from passing shoppers. He was a big fan of old films, they'd already watched several together. Perhaps a DVD set, something film related? A spark flowed through her mind as she remembered that there was a memorabilia shop down on of the side streets. That would be perfect, there would surely be something for Stuart!

She drained her coffee cup and hurried off in the direction of the little shop. Once inside Christine hunted the crowded shelves for the perfect gift. The rugged looking man behind the counter eyed her curiously as she scurried about.

"Looking for something in particular?"

"A Christmas present for my boyfriend. He loves old films." She explained. He grinned.

"On the far side of that case, big display on 40's films. Some good stuff in there." She went to look and came back beaming with delight at the signed photographs and rare DVD's that she had found there.

Christine left the shop feeling thoroughly self-satisfied and was just considering calling Meg to see if she wanted to meet and do something together when she spotted something in a shop window. She stopped and peered through the glass. It was a musical box, with a small monkey placed above it, with tiny cymbals in his paws. There was something… odd about it. A quirkiness that you couldn't have found in some manufactured piece of work. There was a small card beside it.

A papier-mâché music box in the shape of a barrel organ. Attached, the figure of a monkey in Persian robes, playing the cymbals. Still in working order.

Persia… hadn't Iran been part of Persia once? Christine felt a smile pull at her mouth. This had to be more than coincidence. That box would be the perfect gift for Mr Destler. It was unusual and strange. Christine pushed open the door to the shop. A woman was sat behind the counter, flicking through a magazine.

"Yes?" She said with a brief smile. Christine pointed at the window.

"The music box, the one with the monkey. How much is it?"

"That's £19. Would you like to see it?"

"Please."

She placed the box on the counter. Christine stroked the soft fur of the toy monkey.

"It plays a tune." The woman said, winding a tiny key in the back of the box and opening it. The sweet, tinkling tune floated through the air and Christine smiled at the sound.

"It's lovely…"
"Yes, it's a very unusual piece. I've never seen anything like it and we get allsorts in here." The woman said. Christine picked it up, admiring it from every angle.

"I'll take it. It'll be the perfect gift for my neighbour."

"Wonderful. I'll just wrap it up for you so it doesn't get damaged."

"For once I can say

This is mine

You won't take it

As long as I know I have love

I can make it

For once in my life

I have someone who needs me…"

The crooning tones of Frank Sinatra filled the apartment as Christine sat cross-legged on the floor, wrapping Christmas presents. The CD had been a gift to herself, having always loved the singer's warm and dashing voice. She hummed along as she ran the blade of her scissors down the ribbon, so it sprang into shining curls before placing the parcel with the pile of others. Most were for friends from work, one for Firmin, one for Matt, Meg's boyfriend and the final two for Stuart and Mr Destler.

She finished wrapping and small in satisfaction as she put the work ones into a bag. They were all exchanging gifts next week in the office. The others were sat on a table in the corner until she saw them all. Excepting Mr Destler, of course, which she could just give to him closer to the date. The large pile of paper scraps and boxes that had culminated from her successful shopping trip sat pointedly by the door, so Christine packed them all into each other, singing along to the CD.

"Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars…" She said, half-dancing down the corridor to the chute, the music following her out of the apartment. She tossed the bags and boxes down the chute and pranced back to her apartment door.

"In other words, please be true. In other words… I love you."

"How kind of you to say so." Said a dryly amused voice.

Christine spun around in horror to see Erik Destler smirking from his doorway, a rubbish bag in his hand. She tried to look aloof, despite the obvious flush in her cheeks.

"Mr Destler." She said calmly.

"Miss Daae." He replied. They looked at each for a moment and then Christine winced.

"OK… I still have a shred of dignity left so I'm just going to go into my apartment and cringe."

"Very well. Have a nice evening." Erik said evenly.

"And you." She nodded, slipping inside and closing the door.

Erik lifted his eyes to the ceiling, a smile playing about his mouth as he strode down the corridor. She was an interesting young lady.

A/N: Sorry about the wait. It's been a HARD week. I was at the funeral of my friend yesterday and… I dunno. Been a bit numb lately. But I'll get writing properly again from now on. The songs used here are 'For Once In My Life' and 'Fly Me To The Moon' by Frank Sinatra.

Wow, a lot of mixed reviews for this story! Lots of you seem to prefer my old writing style, so I'm trying to mix a bit of that in as well as the new thing I'm trying out, in an attempt to make it less 'stuffy' as it was described. Thanks for the support and constructive criticism!

And yes, yes I know you all want E/C action but I want them to develop a friendship first! For you impatient people, here's a competely unrelated version

"Erik and Christine met one day. They fell in love, and although there were many difficult obstacles, somehow their love overpowered it all and they had great sex, 2.4 kids and a dog. The End."

Lotsa luv 'n' huggles

Katie