The Girl Next Door
Meg was watching an old episode of 'Friends' when there was a frantic knocking at the door. She answered irritably, having been thoroughly engrossed with the drama of Ross and Rachel.
What she found was Christine, looking thoroughly miserable.
"Christine? What's up?" Meg said. Christine sniffed.
"I went to see him."
"Yeah?"
"Someone beat me to it."
"Who?"
"…Carlotta."
"What?"
Christine hugged her arms around herself as Meg let her in.
"He was with Carlotta. Or, at least, she was there. In his apartment." She said quietly.
"Were they wearing clothes?" Meg checked.
"Yes."
"Were their clothes rumpled?" Meg asked.
"I don't know, Meg! I was too busy being in utter shock and running away, as bloody usual!" Christine retorted angrily. Meg held her hands up in the universal signal of surrender.
"OK, I get it. Sit down, I'll make tea."
Christine collapsed onto the sofa and Meg called from the kitchen,
"Pure curiosity speaking here, but how did they… seem?"
"What, Erik and Carlotta?"
"Yeah."
"…I don't know. She put her arm around him and he didn't exactly object to it." She said miserably.
Meg returned with tea a few moments later. Christine took her cup and looked down at the brown liquid, wisps of steam rising from the surface.
"Meg, can I stay here tonight?"
"Of course. But you'll have to go back eventually."
"I know… I just… if I go back now I'll have to talk to him. And if she's still there, I just don't want to…"
Her voice faded away. Meg sighed.
"I can't believe it. I mean, I know that you and Carlotta didn't like each other, but still… I never knew she was such a bitch."
"What am I supposed to do? I can't go back! I can't see him and know that… but I live there. I'm just getting back on track; I can't go through all that again!"
"Hold it!" Meg held up a hand. "Calm down. Don't go getting all hysterical on me, OK? Look, we'll go into work an hour or two late. Firmin won't mind, you're his pet worker. If everything's OK, you can stay there. If not, we can pick up a few things and you can come back here. No problem."
They both knew that it was not that simple. But it was easier to pretend for the time being.
"How am I going to face Carlotta at work tomorrow?"
"With a beautiful smile and an 'I-couldn't-care-less-that-you-shagged-my-neighbour-' attitude." Meg said firmly.
"Meg!"
"That'd be better than if you went in there with a look that your puppy just got hit by a car. Sort of like the expression you're wearing right now." She paused. "Actually, I'd say you look more pissed off at the moment."
"Oh, I wonder why." Christine said sarcastically.
Meg grinned.
"Don't worry, OK? Things can only get better. Have you eaten yet?"
They waited until nine-thirty the next day, making sure that it would be when Erik was at the theatre by the time they arrived. As they climbed the front steps, Meg said,
"Whatever happens, you can stay with me for as long as you want, OK?"
"Thanks Meg. But I won't impose on you."
"Christine, have you seen yourself lately? You don't take up much room." Meg said. Christine gave her an irritated look and then paused. The door was already open and a man was walking past, carrying a box to the moving van parked on the curb. A horrible feeling began to worm into her mind.
The elevator seemed to rise twice as slowly. Christine watched the buttons light up as they passed the floors. When they reached the fifth floor, she was met by the sight of Nadir Khan standing outside 5a, talking to a man in rough clothing, carrying a box.
Nadir caught sight of her and lowered the clipboard he was carrying. Christine swallowed and moved forward.
"Erik?"
"…He's gone." Nadir said quietly. Christine closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again.
"Where?"
"Paris. The opera house there is putting on Il Muto and they wanted him there to supervise. He originally refused but I got a phone call out of the blue last night, saying that he'd changed his mind. He set off early this morning. He owns an apartment there as well as this one, something of a retreat for him."
Meg let out a whistle.
"Oh… Christine, I'll wait outside. Call me up if you want me." She disappeared. Nadir waited until she had gone before saying,
"I'm going to assume you were involved somehow."
"No, I didn't. That was the problem." She whispered. Nadir sighed.
"Erik is a very complicated man, Miss Daae. I suggest that you don't blame yourself for this."
"How… how long will he be gone for?" Christine asked, not knowing if she wanted to know the answer.
"I don't know. Several months, I should think." Nadir said. Christine swallowed hard.
"I didn't… I didn't mean to-"
"Stop."
She looked at him in surprise. He was surveying her with a sympathetic expression.
"Miss Daae, I believe the phrase is 'it takes two to tango'. Erik is just as responsible for whatever happened as you are. He is a grown man and he made a decision. Do not hurt over something that you don't have complete control of." He looked at his watch. "I must get back to the theatre. I will see you at the next meeting on the Heaven and Hell concert."
He walked past and then paused.
"Oh, yes. I was instructed to give you this. Something of a peace offering, from what I can gather." He handed her a large, sealed envelope. With a brief smile and a nod, Nadir disappeared into the elevator.
Christine went into her apartment and sat on the edge of the sofa as she slowly opened the large brown packet. Inside were several sheets of paper. She pulled them out. It was sheet music, all of the songs that they had done in her lessons. Christine flicked through them and found on, right at the end, that she did not recognise. Separating it from the others, she read through it.
"Think of me…" She murmured. After a few moments, she put the music back into the packet and placed it on the coffee table before going into her bedroom to change into clean clothes.
"Meg, Christine, I'm glad you're here. I need your opinion on this poster." Firmin said, as they arrived at Populaire Advertising. He handed them the poster and they examined it closely.
"It's too crowded." Christine commented. "This text can go for a start and this imaging is too bright. Overshadows the title."
"You think so?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Well, if that's what you think." He paused. "I trust this business of this morning has been taken care of."
Meg hesitated and glanced at Christine. She smiled weakly.
"It rather took care of itself."
"Excellent. Well, I'll go and edit this." Firmin wandered off to his office. Christine and Meg stopped at the coffee machine.
"You OK, sweetie?" Meg asked sympathetically. Christine shrugged.
"Not really. But there you go. Might as well concentrate on something so at least I can get some work done."
"I'm taking you out tonight. It's only Thursday, no one's going to care if you come in with a hangover tomorrow." Meg said firmly. Christine smiled.
"Thanks but no. I think I'm just going to get some decent sleep tonight and possibly sit around in my pyjamas and eat an unhealthy amount of chocolate."
"Tomorrow night then. And no objections, missy."
Christine went to her office and made sure that the blinds were properly closed before sitting down. Her head fell into her hands and she sat for several moments like that before turning on her computer and taking a piece of paper out of her in-tray.
The morning passed all too quickly and at lunchtime Christine was forced to emerge from her office through hunger and not having any food with her. She crossed the road to the corner shop, seized a packet of sandwiches and a bottle of water as well as the daily newspaper before returning to the office, reading intently about the political dramatics of the week as she crossed the office floor. She was distracted however by the grating sound of Carlotta's laugh. She was chatting with Sorelli and several other people as they communed around the coffee machine.
"Yes, I was with someone last night. We got on really well." She was saying. Christine stopped and Carlotta caught sight of her. With a smirk, she turned back to the group and said, "I think he's going to call me today to meet up again. There was… electricity. I can definitely see this going somewhere."
"You do?" Christine asked, an eyebrow lifted.
Carlotta turned to look at her with all the attitude of a Hollywood actress throwing a diva tantrum.
"Yes. I do." She said with enough determination to make the rest of the group look at Christine, sensing that something was going on behind the scenes. Christine looked incredibly unthreatened.
"I don't think so."
"And why might that be?" Carlotta said, folding her arms in front of her. Christine shrugged.
"A couple of things really. The first being that you were clearly a rebound."
"What?" Carlotta snorted. "Oh, please."
"Well, seeing as how he had tried to tell me that he cared for me the day before, I think that might have something to do with it. And I can tell you now, he is not going to call you." Christine said, walking on.
Carlotta glared at her.
"Like you'd have any idea." She spat. Christine looked around and put a hand on her office door.
"Carlotta, he left the country this morning. Funny, since you were getting on so well, you'd have thought that he'd have mentioned it to you." She shrugged. "Oh well."
Carlotta stared as her office door closed. The group looked at her for a reaction. Meg grinned.
"Wow. I guess there's someone on the planet that doesn't instantly fall down at your feet, Carlotta. Who'd have thought it?"
Erik sat in an armchair, watching the fire flicker under the mantelpiece. In his hand was a glass, amber liquid glinting in the unsteady light. He looked at it briefly before placing the glass onto a table and glancing out of the window that showed the night time sky over Paris.
He had been here for a week and still he could not forget what he had done. Could not forget her. His eyes lifted to the music box placed on the mantelpiece. The soft, kind eyes of the monkey gazed back, cymbals poised to play. Erik sighed and got to his feet, walking across to the desk. He sat down again and pulled out a piece of paper.
Dear Christine,
It has been a week since I saw you last. And in that time I have thought of many things to say. But I am afraid that if I say them to you, it will only serve to drive you further from me. And that is something that I cannot bear.
I once told you that I could not promise to tell you what had happened in my past. If I am fortunate enough to be close enough to you to tell you, I shall. I promise it now.
There are so many things that I regret in this lifetime. I had hoped that you would not become one of them. But it appears that I am forbidden to be near the one person in this world that I would want to be with.
I hope that you will never see beneath the mask and discover the face that matches the man you ran from.
Christine – I am sorry. I can only offer to you what I have to give and I fear that even that if of little value. I offer my love.
Yours
Erik.
He watched the ink soak into the paper and folded it carefully. And then he reached into the drawer of a desk and pulled out a small box. He opened it, revealing several more unsent letters. The newest one joined them. Erik looked at the secret words and then closed the lid, put the box back into the drawer and stood. He picked up his glass, observed the liquid within, and then drained it.
The song that Erik had left for Christine was one that puzzled her. As she poured over it for what felt like the thousandth time, she tried to uncover the possible reasons behind the words. It was dated the day she had found Carlotta at his apartment. That meant that he had either written it before she had seen them or after.
Christine imagined that it was written after he had confirmed that he was leaving. So many little words that could mean so many enormous things.
Think of me
Think of me waking
Silent and resigned
Imagine me
Trying too hard to
Put you from my mind
Was that how he woke? Did he rise each day, thinking of her? Christine chewed her fingernail as she read on.
Recall those days
Look back on all those times
Think of the things we'll never do
There was regret behind the words. To a certain extent, Christine wondered if the song was meant to make her feel guilty. Imagine what we could have had, Christine, if you hadn't run like you did. And yet, for some reason, Christine didn't feel so bad. She had at first but now she was… it was hard to describe. It was almost peaceful. As though she knew that one day Erik would come back and then they would be able to talk about all this and perhaps things would go on as they had before. Or even change for the better. Call it a woman's intuition, call it a lucky guess, call it sixth sense, or whatever. But Christine knew, in her gut, that things would get better eventually.
She put the paper down and looked at the clock. She had only just gotten in from work. It had been a Hellish day. Carlotta, upon discovering that what she had said about Erik was true, had been going out of her way to make life difficult for Christine. On top of that, a virus had attacked the network, wiping a lot of work from everyone's computers. Christine was grateful that she had a lot of her files on her home computer. But not everyone had been so lucky. Sorelli had lost everything and had had to start from scratch on her designs.
Christine was supposed to be meeting Meg for drinks that evening at Club Garnier, it being Friday night. She showered, pulled on some clothes and picked up a handbag. As she pulled her door shut, she glanced at apartment 5a.
"Hey Erik. Just going out for a bit with Meg. Don't wait up." She muttered. All too often, she found herself wishing the door good morning or goodnight. It was rather depressing, really.
She met Meg in the lounge room of Club Garnier. Meg had already bought the first round of drinks. Christine sipped hers and Meg said,
"Matt wants to know if you want to come to his birthday next Saturday. He's renting the bar room here for the evening and since I don't know many of his friends he said to invite someone."
"Meg, who is Matt's best friend?"
"Stuart."
"What else is Stuart?" Christine asked.
"Your ex. Oh, c'mon, Chris!" Meg pushed her lips into a pout. "For me? Think about what a good friend I've been for you this past month!"
Christine glared at her.
"I hate it when you use emotional blackmail."
"It's only because you'd say no otherwise." Meg smiled. "So that's a yes? Great! I'll tell Matt later."
Ten minutes later, Christine went up to the bar to buy them both another drink. A guy was sat on a barstool, drinking a pint and chatting with the bartender. As Christine dug some change out of her purse, he looked at her.
"Hi." He said, with a sort of half-grin. Christine looked at him briefly before returning the greeting with no enthusiasm. He lifted his eyebrows.
"You seem rather down."
"Hmm."
"Want to talk about it?"
Christine looked at him flatly.
"OK. About a month ago I had a boyfriend and was very good friends with my next door neighbour. Then I finally admitted to myself that I didn't love my boyfriend and probably never would, found out that my neighbour was in love with me, he tried to kiss me, I ran away, then I broke up with my boyfriend, decided to give it a go with the neighbour only to find him with one of my co-workers who I hate. Since then I haven't seen my ex-boyfriend, my neighbour has left the country and I'm spending my Friday night with my friend Meg over there, who insists on me coming out in case I turn into some sort of social recluse and end up killing myself." She put on a smile, picking up the drinks. "Have a good night. Try the house cocktail, it's really good."
She walked back to Meg, leaving the man in a state of extreme confusion. Meg looked at her.
"You've been reading 'How to make friends and influence people' again, haven't you?"
"It just isn't sinking in." Christine said dryly.
Christine walked home afterwards, pepper spray in her pocket. No chances. She turned into Gaston Place and went to the door of the apartment building. It was cold for March and she hurried, wanting to get into her warm bed.
She went to type in the security code and then noticed a small bundle curled up by the door. Christine frowned and bent to examine it. The bundle moved and she realised it was a cat. It looked up at her with large yellow eyes, shivering. Christine stood up again and sighed.
"Shoo, cat."
Instead of shoo-ing, the cat decided to uncurl and rub against her legs. Christine stepped back.
"No. Go on, go home." The cat sat, staring up at her, tail flicking from side to side. It was a raggedy creature, rather pathetic looking and scrawny. Christine doubted that it had had a good meal in a while.
"Why me? There has to be somewhere better for you to go." Christine told it. "I don't want a cat."
The cat continued to stare. Christine groaned and said,
"OK. Fine. Just stop staring at me." She opened the door and the cat followed her inside. In the elevator he sat patiently by her side. Christine glanced at it and couldn't help giving a smile as it watched the doors, waiting for them to open. He followed her to the door of 5b and waited patiently as she opened the door.
Christine went into the kitchen to find something for him to eat. He leapt up onto the surface and watched as she grilled some chicken.
"This is for both of us, OK? Don't go getting greedy. And you're not having spicy sauce on yours." Christine said firmly. As the chicken cooked, she went to the fridge and took out some milk. Pouring some into a bowl, she put it onto the surface. The cat began to drink, his little pink tongue lapping at the white liquid. Christine absently stroked his fur. He was a tabby, with grey, black and white streaks. She could feel his ribs through the fur and his coat was knotted and matted in places.
"I'll give you a good clean up after dinner." She said. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you though. I really don't want a cat but you don't look like you've got anywhere else to go. And I've got an annoying little conscience that's stopping me from just sending you on your way, Cat."
Cat meowed and Christine went to finish cooking the chicken. Once they had both eaten, Cat, looking rather satisfied, his belly bulging slightly, leapt onto the armchair by the fireplace and watched Christine. She dug around in a drawer until she found on an old hairbrush.
"Come here, Cat." She called. He stalked across to her and she lifted him onto her lap, brushing at the knots. He waited patiently as she tugged at his fur, occasionally giving her an annoyed look that clearly said is this really necessary?
"I'm going to go and do some work. Keep yourself occupied and don't mess the apartment up." Christine told the cat firmly. He gave her a discerning look and then followed her into the study and sat by the computer, watching as she edited Jammes' latest efforts. It was a good piece and was a definite improvement on her earlier work.
"See this bit here? She's obviously been using the new program and it shows." Christine said to Cat, who looked at her, blinking slowly.
Cat stayed for the night and when Christine went to work the next morning, he followed her outside and walked away, tail flicking from side to side. Christine watched him go before setting off to work.
"Morning, Christine." Meg said, passing her a cup of coffee. "How are you?"
"Fine. Spent a night in with the cat."
"…You don't have a cat."
"I do now. He adopted me." Christine said matter-of-factly. "But he wandered off this morning, so maybe I don't have a cat after all."
Meg looked at her in confusion and Christine smiled.
"Forget it."
"Happily. We've got a Hawthorn meeting this meaning. Mr Khan is coming in. You, me, Carlotta, Sorelli and Firmin in the boardroom at ten."
"No problem." Christine said absently, going to her office.
Dear Christine,
I heard from Nadir this afternoon. He said that he saw you at a meeting today on the concert. I am glad that you are doing well. I hope…
I'm not entirely sure of what to say. I find myself thinking of you far too often. I believe you would very much love the Paris opera house. It is a beautiful building. I hope one day to bring you here to see an opera. I don't know which one. But it is an experience that must not be denied on any account.
Stay safe. Be happy.
Yours
Erik.
Dear Christine,
I wonder sometimes if I am going mad. Is it possible to be driven mad simply by thinking of another person? I wonder…
I have been working harder at the opera everyday. You know which one. I swore never to let anyone hear it. But it is growing near to completion. At least, the music is. After this I shall design sets and costumes and everything else, as though it were going to be performed. It never shall, though.
The thing I find most extraordinary is that I have found myself altering parts to fit your voice. There is one particular song, a duet, that I hear being performed by you. It is strange to think like that, isn't it? But you are my Aminta. If ever this will be sung, it shall only ever be sung by you and none other.
Yours
Erik.
Dear Christine,
I miss you.
A/N: Not sure about this chapter. At least it's not as over the top as the previous two! Anyway, hope everyone had an awesome Christmas and I'll try and get the next chapter up soon, OK?
Oh, and you're in for a treat! Because my dear, darling friend IheartPOTO has been doing phanart! She did some for 'From Heaven's Mind' and now she's come up with pictures of Carlotta, Meg and Stuart for this story as well. Just piece together the link to view!
www . freewebs . com / artfanatic07 / fanart . htm
Love
Katie