The Girl Next Door
The dreams were getting worse.
Nightly Erik's slumber was disturbed by visions of Anna. Nightly he woke, gasping for breath and sweating, shaking controllably.
He tried to keep it secret. But Christine knew. How could she not? Every night when he woke, she pretended to sleep on. But it was getting far too serious. She decided she needed to talk to someone. Not Erik, not yet.
She chose Nadir. She called him during the day, when she was at work.
"Nadir, I need to talk to you. Is there somewhere that we can meet?" They arranged to meet in the bar of the Hawthorn after Erik had left work that afternoon.
Christine descended the steps to the bar. It was deserted, apart from a single man, sat at the bar. He looked around at her and smiled.
"Christine."
"Hello Nadir."
"Care for a drink?"
"Just a coke, thanks." Her new car had arrived and she didn't want to drink when she would be driving home. He fetched it for her and then said curiously,
"So, why all the secrecy? Is something wrong?"
"Yes. Maybe." She drank some of her soft drink and then turned on her seat to look him in the face. It was a kind face, friendly, one that could be trusted. "Nadir, I'm worried about Erik."
"You too?"
It took a moment for the words to register. She blinked.
"What do you mean?"
"I would guess that we two know him better than anyone else. And for some time now, something has been troubling him. I was hoping you could shed some light on the matter."
"I was hoping the same thing from you. All I know is that he's having dreams. Every single night, Nadir. He's barely sleeping at all."
Nadir considered her for a moment before sipping at his drink.
"Do you know what he dreams of?" He asked. Christine looked down at her glass, holding the icy drink in both hands.
"…Anna. He dreams of Anna." Nadir looked up sharply. "He hasn't told me anything. But he woke up once and said her name quietly, sort of despairingly."
Nadir looked at her, his forehead creased into a slight frown. Christine didn't look him in the eye. She kept her focus on her drink. After a moment Nadir said,
"Have you spoken to him?"
"God, no. I can't, Nadir. It's Anna… what could I possibly say?" Christine whispered. She sighed and looked at him. "That's why I needed to speak with you. I don't know what to do."
"And you think that I do?"
"You've known Erik for much longer than me." She pointed out. Nadir chuckled warmly.
"Ah, Christine, that is true. But what is also true is that I barely know Erik. I know him as a man and as a composer. But I do not know the Erik that you do. I know of what happened with Anna by the vaguest details only."
Christine was silent for a moment. Nadir smiled softly at her.
"I'm not being very useful, am I?"
"Not particularly." She agreed, smiling slightly. "I suppose I'll have to talk to him."
"I suppose so. But why don't you wait for a couple of days? See if they start to fade away and then confront him on Friday. At least that way you'll have the weekend to sort things out." Nadir suggested. Christine nodded and then glanced at him.
"Hannibal is only three weeks away. Maybe it's the stress…"
"Entirely possible." Nadir agreed. "In any case, you're the only one who would be able to make him say what the problem is."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he trusts you." Nadir said simply, draining his glass. "Another drink?"
Erik sat at the piano testing out new tunes and Christine, cross-legged on the floor, was at the coffee table, sketching new designs. They were in Christine's apartment that evening and both worked silently, absorbed in their work. Now that the advertising campaign for Hannibal had started, Christine was working on a poster for a gig. A new band was performing at the local stadium and had hired Populaire for the advertising on the huge concert. She sat, rearranging pieces on a mock-up poster before she used the computer.
There was a crash from the kitchen and they both jumped, Erik's hands slipping to create a nasty, jarring note.
"Cat!" Christine shouted. The tabby darted from the kitchen, yowling and dove under the piano, hissing. Christine peered into the kitchen. A bowl lay in pieces on the floor. Cat had clearly been sniffing around, hoping for food. Christine sighed and glanced over at the petrified animal.
"You're more trouble than you're worth." She told him firmly. Erik smiled faintly and held out his hand to Cat. He leapt into Erik's lap, seeking comfort as Christine went to sweep up the pieces.
When she returned, she returned to her spot on the floor, leaning against the sofa and sighed heavily. Erik glanced at her.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I'm just… I don't know. I feel a little tired." She said, smiling. "I really don't feel like going to London on Saturday. Or to Carlotta's party."
"You said that Firmin said to just show your face. Go for an hour and then leave." Erik suggested and she eyed him.
"Hey, don't think you're getting out of it. You're coming with me."
"Why must we both suffer?" He pointed out and Christine laughed.
"Don't even try, Erik. You're coming."
"Well, I tried."
He rose from the piano and went to sit on the sofa. She rested her head against his knee and closed her eyes. He caressed her hair softly and she said quietly,
"I wish we could go away for a while. Maybe just to Paris, or something. But everything's so busy…"
"Afterwards. Once Hannibal is running properly, we could go for a weekend." Erik suggested. She smiled.
"That sounds nice." She murmured, closing her eyes again.
Eleanor looked at the CD in surprise as she sat in her dressing room the next day, Friday.
"What is it?" She demanded. Erik lifted an eyebrow.
"It is a recording of Think of Me. Exactly the way it should be sung."
"From where? I thought this was the first performance of Hannibal."
"It is. This is a recording of the person I originally wrote the song for. Therefore, she understands perfectly the nature of the song. Listen to it and learn it." Erik said.
He turned and left the room. Eleanor leapt up and raced after him as he entered the theatre.
"Wait just one minute, Mr Destler! This was sung by… by some unknown and you are saying that she sings it better than I do?"
"That is not difficult, Eleanor, you are incapable of that song." He said. Eleanor's jaw dropped in horrified fury. Erik glanced at Cassandra, one of the stagehands.
"Go and play this recording." He took the CD from Eleanor and tossed it at her. Cassandra disappeared and Eleanor fumed.
"Mr Destler, this is thoroughly insulting!"
"Eleanor, just listen. You and I both know that this song is beyond you at this point. Just listen and copy what she does." Erik said in a final tone. Eleanor folded her arms and Cassandra's voice echoed around the room from the sound box microphone.
"Ready Mr Destler?"
He nodded and the music began, the light, familiar piano music filling the room. Everyone stopped to listen as Christine's voice began to ring out, clear and sweet. Erik settled into a chair, listening in pleasure to the tone. The quality of the recording had been better than he had hoped. Eleanor was stood with a pout on her beautiful face, but Carl and the other performers were listening in interest to this unknown singer.
Nadir sat down beside Erik, and glanced at him, asking with his eyes 'who?'. But Erik didn't reply. He was watching Eleanor. The song finished and everyone began to chatter once again. Erik stood and went to his leading lady.
"Well?" He said. Eleanor huffed and folded her arms across her chest.
"I… oh!" She snatched the CD from the returning Cassandra and stormed away to her dressing room. Erik smirked and looked at a grinning Carl.
"I believe I won."
"Apparently so. Who was that, Mr Destler? And why isn't she here instead of charming Prima Donna?" Carl smiled cheekily. Erik lifted an eyebrow.
"She is otherwise occupied."
"Who is it, Erik?" Nadir murmured, joining him. Erik glanced at his friend.
"Why does it matter?"
"Because she's excellent! She could easily outdo Eleanor. Where did you find her?" Realisation struck and Nadir gaped. "Not… not Christine?"
"If you've nothing helpful to add, get out of the way."
"I had no idea she could sing like that!" Nadir said, utterly amazed. "She's… well, she's fantastic. She could be a star, Erik!"
Erik looked at him flatly.
"Haven't you got some work to be getting on with instead of preventing me from doing mine?" He said. Nadir looked at him irritably and turned to go to his office.
"She has her own office?" Christine said in disbelief. Meg nodded.
"I know. It's ghastly. Just imagine the size that her ego is going to be."
"For crying out loud! This is getting beyond ridiculous." Christine said angrily, waiting for the printer to dispense her work. Meg shrugged.
"What can you do?"
"Nothing. And that's what I hate most." Christine replied. Meg grinned.
"You're just jealous 'cos her office is bigger than yours."
"What? It's bigger than mine?" Christine said, turning on her. Meg laughed and patted her shoulder.
"Don't worry about it, Chrissie. That just means she won't have to hang around and annoy us instead."
Christine had to admit that this was a plus to the whole god-awful situation. She was going to reply but Sorelli appeared next to them, looking thoroughly self-satisfied.
"I've finally finished that report. Firmin is going to love me!"
"Especially since it was due a week ago." Meg commented lightly. Sorelli pulled a face and then smirked at Christine as she yawned.
"Erik keeping you up?"
"You could say that." Christine said dryly, taking her work and heading back to her office. She saw Carlotta on the way, talking to Firmin in a loud, official voice.
"I just don't see why the graphics department can't merge with the media department. They work so closely anyway, and it would be far more viable from a financial point of view."
"Carlotta, if we did that it would mean having to either transfer people, demoting or letting them go. The graphics department functions brilliantly as a solo unit the media works closely with every other department."
"In my personal opinion, Richard, there are a few people in graphics who could do with a little demotion. Or more." Carlotta said coolly, eyeing Jammes, who was talking with Josh a little way off. Christine stopped in her tracks and Carlotta caught her eye. She smirked briefly before turning to go back to her new office.
Christine caught Firmin's arm.
"Richard, is she looking to cut people?" She demanded in a whisper. Firmin sighed.
"Christine-"
"Is she?"
"…There may be cutbacks." He admitted. Christine released his arm in consternation.
"I thought making her an employee was going to help Populaire!"
"It will. There are just a few glitches-"
"Glitches? Richard, she's talking about firing people! We're a small enough company as it is!"
"Christine, your job is secure." Firmin said quietly. "No matter what happens, you are a secured employee."
"But what about Jammes?" Christine hissed. The look on Firmin's face was answer enough. Christine took a step back and then clenched her jaw.
"If she gets rid of Jammes, I'm going too."
"Christine-"
"She has worked incredibly hard since she got here! You were at her review, she's a bloody miracle! If Carlotta wants her out, I'm going with her because I don't want to work somewhere where a spoiled bitch like her is going to be calling all the shots on something she knows nothing about!" Christine said furiously before storming back to her office. Firmin watched her go with a defeated expression.
Christine didn't tell anyone about what had happened at work that day. When she got home, Erik was still at the theatre. Christine went to her post box and pulled out her mail. She really didn't want to travel to London the next day. And she especially didn't want to go to Carlotta's birthday.
Cat meowed indignantly at his dawdling owner. Christine scowled down at him.
"Oh, meow yourself!" She snapped. Cat gave her a resentful look and stalked towards the lift. Christine sighed and followed, pressing the button for the fifth floor.
Once he had a bowl of milk, he seemed somewhat pacified. Christine sat at the computer, working without even thinking about it, it was merely something to keep her busy until Erik got home. Now was the time to confront him. Well, if she were to be perfectly honest, Christine would rather not confront him at all. But this couldn't go on. Erik was looking worse by the day. She was afraid, yes actually afraid, of what would happen if he carried on like this.
Erik arrived just over half an hour later. Christine didn't call out to him. She wanted to finish the design before she went to see him. Within a couple of minutes she was done. She saved the document and ventured out. Erik was in her kitchen, preparing them both tea. He smiled as she appeared.
"You seemed busy. I didn't want to disturb you."
"Just finishing a design." She replied, leaning against a doorframe.
"How was your day?"
"Absolutely appalling."
"Oh? What happened?" He said, pouring hot water into the teapot. Christine laughed humourlessly.
"Carlotta. What else? She's looking to make a few firings, just to make herself seem important and Jammes looks to be the top of her list."
"Jammes? Why her?"
"She can't touch me. Firmin would never allow it, plus there's no one with enough experience to take over from me. Carlotta knows that Jammes is an important person to me and that I like her. It's the nearest strike she can make."
Erik shook his head disgustedly and Christine sighed.
"Nothings final yet, though. I'll just have to see how things pan out." She said, rubbing the back of her neck. It was aching from too long sat in front of the computer that day. "What about you? How was your day?"
"Not too bad. Eleanor was not impressed at being told how to sing Think of Me." Erik smirked at the memory. "But she'll have to get used to it."
He rubbed his eyes, yawning heavily. It seemed an opportune moment to mention the dreams and Christine was in no mood to play around beforehand.
"Erik, can I talk to you about something?" She said, fingers twisting nervously together. Erik looked at her, rather bemused as he took the milk from the refrigerator.
"Of course. What about?"
"Your dreams." She said simply. Erik lowered the milk bottle and looked at her. She swallowed hard and kept their eye contact, determined now.
"How did you…?"
"You wake up every night, Erik. You've never been such a restless sleeper, how could I not know?" She said quietly.
Erik couldn't look at her. Christine moved forward but kept the distance between them.
"It's Anna, isn't it? That's what you dream about."
"I don't wish to discuss this, Christine." He said, in an almost inaudible tone, his gaze on the cups before him. She frowned slightly.
"Erik… this is me. We've told each other everything. Why can't you tell me about this?"
"Christine…" He began and then stopped. After a moment he turned to her, his expression cool. "I said that I did not wish to discuss the matter."
"But-"
He put a hand down heavily on the counter. Not a violent gesture, but a finalising one. The conversation was over. Christine ran a hand through her hair, knowing when she was defeated.
"Fine, Erik." She said quietly. "Your choice. I'm going to do some work."
She turned and was gone. Erik stared at the space that she had occupied only moments before and then bowed his head, feeling utterly deserted.
The evening was a warm one, but the air apartment 5a was cool. Eventually Christine stood.
"I'm going to bed. I've got to be up early for the drive to London. I'll be back in time for the party." She said calmly, moving towards the bedroom. Cat followed her. Erik waited for a few minutes before going inside. Christine was tugging on a nightshirt. Erik undressed down to his underwear and then climbed into bed beside her, turning off the bedside lamp. Christine was lying with her back to him. Clearly she knew how to hold a grudge.
Erik paused and then put a hand on her arm that lay above the covers. She didn't move away. He sighed gently and then lay beside her, one arm over her. After a few moments she relaxed and whispered a goodnight. Erik returned the acknowledgement and was silent for a while. And then he whispered,
"I'm sorry."
But she was already asleep.
Christine rose early the day. She left Erik sleeping. No need to take away his lie-in, just because she had to go. Besides, he needed the sleep, having had yet another nightmare. This time he had gotten out of bed afterwards and gone to the bathroom. She had heard a tap running and then he returned. Christine hadn't let him know she was awake. He might have known anyway.
With a stack of CD's to keep her from boredom in the three hour drive, she began the tiresome journey to the capital. The course started at ten-thirty that morning and she didn't want to be late, even if wouldn't be the most thrilling event in her life.
Erik, in the mean time, woke whilst Christine was still travelling. He went into the living room, a lively Cat dancing around his feet. There was a note for him on the coffee table.
Erik,
I didn't want to wake you, so I slipped out early. Get plenty of rest and rejuvenate yourself. We'll need all the energy we can get for tonight. I should be back in time for the party (oh joy!) but I'll call ahead if I get stuck in traffic.
Love
Christine
He smiled slightly and then rubbed his face. He was still exhausted, in spite of the few hours of sleep he had managed to get. He glanced at the time and then crossed to his apartment to dress. Cat followed in interest as he went to his bedroom. After a quick shower, a shave and dressing Erik straightened his mask and steadied himself for what he was about to do. The thing he had been putting off since the nightmares had begun.
He went to the wardrobe in his bedroom. Near the feet were two drawers. One contained some spare sheet music and ink, as well as folders for his music. Erik went to the second drawer, kneeling on the floor, ignoring Cat, who was prowling nearby, wondering exactly what had captured Erik's interest so much that he had neglected to notice that it was time for his morning milk.
Erik slid the drawer open carefully. The inside was a mess of photographs, papers, objects and trinkets. He stared at them for a moment and then took out one of the photographs. Anna smiled up at him, her lovely face flushed and laughing, the essence of life and vivaciousness. Her handwriting covered pieces of paper, the scent of her perfume rose from the folded scarf on one side of the drawer and the light glinted from the simple jewellery that was scattered over the other items. And, somewhere near the back of the drawer, was a small velvet box that contained what should have been her wedding ring.
Erik touched the items softly, as though they were the most fragile and valuable possessions in the world. And then he buried his face in his hands as what remained of his strength deserted him and left him kneeling on the floor, torn completely in two.
A/N: I hope this chapter pleases. I don't know why, but I feel like my last few chapters just haven't been up to standard. I think this one catches up a bit, but I don't know… blah. I feel blah.
Anyway, please leave a review and cheer a blah girl up. Especially since I'm back at school on Monday. Blah indeed.
Love
Katie