The Girl Next Door
Carlotta's party began at 8 pm. At 7:25 Christine fell through her front door. Erik heard her through his ajar door and came to investigate.
"The rush hour traffic in London was a nightmare." She said, as he found her in the bedroom, hastily pulling a dress from the wardrobe. "I still need to shower and dress and do my make-up and a thousand other things before we go. God, I don't even WANT to go…"
"It won't be for too long." Erik reminded her. She smiled, tying her hair up into a bun to keep it out of the way.
"I'm going to take a quick shower. Why don't you go and get dressed? I got her a bottle of wine on the way back. Not good wine, but at least we'll have something."
She disappeared into the bathroom and Erik smiled slightly.
The party was being held in an enormous room at an expensive hotel, The Pinewood Hotel. Christine and Erik were pointed to the right place and were greeted by the sight of what looked like nearly three hundred people milling around whilst classical music emanated from a string quartet. Christine placed the wine on the gifts table, which was straining under the weight of the many presents and looked at Erik.
"Well… we're here. How long before we can leave?" Before Erik had time to reply, Sorelli and Nadir joined them.
"How was your course?" Sorelli asked.
"Quite interesting, actually. I've got a few new ideas to put forward to Firmin on Monday." Christine said. They began to discuss the ideas and Nadir looked to Erik.
"You were dragged along as well?"
"Don't be so pessimistic, Nadir." Sorelli scolded him. Then she remembered and turned excitedly back to Christine. "I found out what it is!"
"Tell me!" Christine smiled. Sorelli beamed.
"It's a boy! Isn't that great? I've been trying to think up names but… it just seems so much more real now. It's a boy."
She looked down at her bump, grinning. Christine smiled and touched the bump.
"You are going to be such a great mum, Sorelli."
"I know." She said smugly. Nadir lifted his eyes to the heavens and Erik fought back a smirk. Christine looked around.
"Any sign of the birthday girl, yet?"
"No. Not that we could find her in this crowd anyway." Sorelli pointed out. "Look for a completely over the top outfit and an obnoxiously loud voice."
"We can't all be as well dressed as you." Christine muttered, glancing at Sorelli's clothing. She was wearing a bright blue dress that fell gracefully over her protruding stomach. Sorelli smiled sweetly.
"You look nice, Christine."
"I had fifteen minutes to get ready." Christine complained. "You're probably spent all day planning your outfit!"
"Try all week." Nadir interjected. Sorelli shrugged carelessly, flipping a lock of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. Christine smiled and looked around. She recognised a few people from the office among the many strangers.
"Who are all of these people?"
"Probably business acquaintances of the Guidacelli's." Nadir commented. "This whole party is probably nothing more than an excuse to get everyone in one place, do a little positive image management for Guidacelli Tech."
"That's a very cynical way of looking at it." Said an amused voice. "Carlotta has the best interests of GT at heart. Plus she has many friends from different places."
They all turned to look at the speaker. She was a proud-looking woman, with greying blonde hair and sharply good-looking features.
"How do you know Carlotta?" She said, with a small smile.
"We're at Populaire Advertising with her." Sorelli said, signalling at Christine and herself.
"Oh, the advertising company? Yes, she was very pleased with her promotion." The woman said, her accent slightly tinted with some dialect that Christine didn't recognise.
"Well, we don't talk to her that much." Sorelli put in. "She's usually keeping herself busy with Richard or someone."
"I'm glad she's made so many friends at Populaire Advertising. She was so glad to be made a full time member of staff." The woman said, her wine glass held gracefully in one hand. "Carlotta can be rather overachieving at times. But this is very good for her."
"She really likes working there?" Sorelli asked.
"Oh, yes. She thinks the people there are absolutely charming. Apparently there's just one person she doesn't get on with too well, but it hasn't stopped her enthusiasm for the job."
Christine listened, rather interested. Sorelli got that smile on her face that meant that she wanted to stir things up a little.
"Really? Who is it that she doesn't get on with?"
"I don't really remember her name. Cassie, or Corinne, or something like that. A nightmare to work with, apparently. But since she's been there for longer than Carlotta, there's probably no chance of getting rid of her. It seems she isn't very popular with other members of staff either. But Carlotta's never been one to let one little person keep her down."
Erik looked at Christine. Her cheeks had flushed and she looked ready to explode. Sorelli seemed to sense this as well. The woman looked around at them, aware of the sudden uncomfortable atmosphere. Christine cleared her throat.
"Well, I think I need to pay a little visit to the ladies."
"I'll come with you." Sorelli said but Christine held up a hand.
"No, no, I'm fine."
"At least let me get your names first, I'm so pleased to meet Carlotta's friends." The woman smiled.
"Sorelli Tindra." Sorelli said, shaking her hand. The women looked to Christine.
"Christine Daae. Not Cassie or Corinne. Excuse me." Christine said quietly, turning and disappearing into the crowd. The woman stared after her for a moment and then seemed to realise what had happened.
"Mother, there you are!"
Carlotta appeared beside them, smiling amiably.
"Sorelli, so glad you could come! And Mr Khan as well, it's nice to see you again." She saw Erik and her smile instantly widened. "Mr Destler… I wasn't expecting you. You came with Mr Khan?"
"Actually I came with Christine. Sorelli, please could you go and make sure she's alright?"
"Sure, Erik."
She vanished into the hive of people. Carlotta blinked after her and then turned to her mother.
"What just happened?"
Sorelli found Christine in the restroom, leaning against one of the surfaces with a despondent expression on her features.
"Chris?"
She looked up and then sighed quietly.
"I wasn't exactly expecting a fabulous evening. I definitely didn't expect to hear from some random woman that I'm not popular at the office and I'm a nightmare to work with."
"OK, let's get one thing straight. That random woman is Carlotta's mother. How reliable is her opinion or information? Secondly, you are not a nightmare to work with. You are fantastic at your job and almost everyone in the office thinks you're lovely." Sorelli said firmly. She flicked Christine's chin, forcing her to lift her head. "Alright? Carlotta Guidacelli is a spoiled brat. You are a wonderful person and frankly, I'd rather be friends with you than her. The same goes for most of the people at the office; do you know how many of them can't stand her? I mean, none of them have got this grudge match going with her that you have. But she's definitely not the little-miss-popular she's making herself out to be."
Christine didn't reply. Sorelli pulled her into as tight a hug as her bump would allow. She patted Christine's hair.
"C'mon, Chrissie. Let's just get out of here. We'll find the guys, give Meg a call and go to the pub, or something."
"Thanks Sorelli." Christine mumbled. Sorelli smiled.
"No problem. Let's go and find Erik and Nadir."
After checking their reflections (the absolute last thing that Christine wanted was to go out into the room looking a mess) the two women emerged from the bathroom. Erik and Nadir were waiting where they had left them. Erik instantly moved towards Christine but she held up a hand.
"I'm fine. Let's just go and get a drink somewhere."
"We can go to the Hawthorn bar; it's not too far from here." Nadir said. Sorelli nodded and Christine suddenly groaned.
"I don't believe it; I've left my bag in the toilets. I'll just run back and get it."
Her bag was sat unobtrusively on the surface next to the sink. Christine picked it up, putting the strap over her shoulder and left the restroom.
"Christine?" She glanced over her shoulder and saw Raoul, holding a glass and smiling. He was with a man several years older than Raoul, with blonde hair and small moustache.
"Raoul, Philippe." She offered a small smile. Philippe smiled politely.
"How are you? I haven't seen you since… well, in quite a while."
"I'm fine. Just about to leave."
"It's only just started." Raoul pointed out. Christine lifted an eyebrow.
"I've already been insulted by Carlotta's mother and to be frank, I didn't even want to come in the first place. I'm going for a drink with some friends and then going home for an early night. I've just travelled back from London."
"Raoul mentioned that he saw you at the Hawthorn Masquerade." Philippe said. Christine nodded.
"Yes, Erik invited me."
"Erik?"
His query was answered as the man in question appeared at Christine's side. He took in the two men and then turned to Christine.
"Sorelli found Meg. They're just leaving."
"Alright. It was nice to see you again, Philippe."
"Philippe de Chagny." He said, offering Erik his hand. "I don't believe we've met?" Erik shook his hand briefly.
"Erik Destler."
"Destler… oh, the composer for the Hawthorn?"
"Indeed. If you'd excuse us…"
He and Christine walked away. Erik's hand was on the small of Christine's back in a rather protective gesture. She glanced up at him and then turned her gaze back to the doors, a slight smile on her face.
Call her romantic, but she rather liked his protective streak.
"Well, we survived a good fifteen minutes." Sorelli said, lifting her glass. Meg snorted.
"I didn't even get through the front door. She found me in the car park." She added to Christine. Christine grinned and had some of her drink. There were few people in the bar. Two plays were currently showing in the theatre above, so they would not be disturbed until the interval. Erik and Nadir were discussing Hannibal.
"It opens in three weeks and you haven't decided upon any plans for the opening night." Nadir said sternly. "Erik, you must decide on arrangements."
"What arrangements? People come in, they watch the opera, they leave."
"Don't be so ridiculous. There is the press to organise, there is the after party to consider and a thousand other things to do. Why can't you simply take an interest in them?"
"Because I'm not interested, as well you know. I simply provide the music. It's your job to manage those events. Which, by the way, is why you are called the 'manager'."
"It wouldn't kill you to lend a hand." Nadir muttered. Sorelli patted his arm sympathetically.
"Don't upset him, Erik, he's very sensitive."
"I am not." Nadir said, irritated.
Christine smiled at their repartee and asked,
"How is the opera going? Is everything coming together now?"
"Just about. Elena has improved greatly since listening to you sing Think of Me." Nadir said, giving her a sly look. She blinked at him and looked quickly to Erik, who held up a hand,
"I didn't tell him."
"Erik doesn't know many people and I managed to guess. You do have a lovely voice."
"It's out of practise." Christine said quickly. "If Erik wasn't helping me-"
"How comes we never get to hear you sing?" Meg demanded. Christine sat back in her chair.
"I'd love to have this conversation but I'm exhausted and I really want to go home and sleep for the entire weekend."
She and Erik collected their things and bade their friend goodnight. On the way back to Gaston Place, Christine smiled softly at him.
"Did you have a good day?"
"I just wrote some music. It was relaxing." It wasn't completely a lie. He had written some music. But nothing could relax him. Christine closed her eyes for a few moments and Erik wondered if she had fallen asleep. But she spoke again.
"I don't know what I'm going to do if Carlotta gets any worse."
"What do you mean?"
"…I threatened to quit if Carlotta gets rid of Jammes." She murmured. Erik looked around at her, astonished.
"Christine-"
"I don't know if Firmin will let her. But if she sets her mind to it, she can just bend him around her little finger." Christine said. "And if things get worse, I can't stay there. It just wouldn't be possible."
"Something will turn up." Erik said. "Things won't get that bad."
"I hope you're right, Erik." She whispered, looking out of the window at the black sky. Clouds were covering the stars, with the threat of rainfall at any moment.
Anna knelt beside the broken shards of the picture she had so lovingly painted. Her hurt eyes met Erik's.
"Does it hurt you that much to have it there?"
"Anna, stop…" He tried to say the words louder but he could barely hear them himself. She stood, fragments of glass slicing into her hands. The blood dripped onto the carpet and she looked at him. He stared back and she reached out one blood-soaked hand.
"Do you want this?" There shouldn't be that much blood, there shouldn't…
In her palm lay Christine's silver cross, smeared with red life and glinting cruelly.
Erik stared at the ceiling, the image of the blood pouring from Anna's hands still fresh in his mind. He licked his dry lips and sat up. His throat was taut and desiccated, although sweat was fresh upon his brow.
He reached for the water on his bedside table and drained the glass before glancing at Christine. She had not woken with him this time. She slept peacefully on, her face the essence of sweet relaxation. The silver cross was on the bedside table, the chain pooled beneath the cross in a mesh of links. Erik climbed from the bed, moving silently. Cat, who was curled up at the foot of the bed, glanced lazily at him before going back to sleep. Erik moved past the creature to stand by the wardrobe. The temptation to open the drawer again was so strong…
Erik leant on the wardrobe door, with his back to the bed as he fought the urge. Opening that drawer would not make things better. It would neither stop the nightmares, nor bring Anna back.
And at that moment, he was torn between which it was that he most desired.
He lowered himself to one knee and reached for the handle of the drawer, starting to pull it open. And then stopped, his hands trembling although the night was warm.
Christine…
He could not do this. Not with Christine sleeping mere feet from where he knelt. He forced himself to stand and turned to see Christine stirring. She let out a sleepy sigh, caught sight of Erik standing and sat up.
"Erik? What's wrong?"
"…I was just opening the window. It's too warm." Erik said quietly. He turned and slowly pushed the window open. Christine lay back down, yawning. Erik stood for a moment and then returned to the bed. Christine watched him for a moment and then kissed his cheek gently. He smiled slightly and closed his eyes.
After a few minutes his breathing evened out. Christine watched him sleeping for a moment and then turned her eyes as away. He must have had another nightmare. This was getting ridiculous. But if he wouldn't talk to her about them…
She reached across him for the water glass, only to find it empty. He must have drunk it already. They really did need to get two tables in here. Christine picked up the glass and climbed out of bed with thoughts of going to the kitchen to refill it. The curtain waved slowly in the cool breeze from the newly-opened window. Christine glanced at it and then her eyes went to the drawer that was pulled out slightly. She looked at it curiously. This was where Erik has been standing, hadn't it? Why was that drawer open if he was opening the window?
Casting an almost guilty glance towards the sleeping figure in the bed, Christine bent down to examine the drawer. She slid it open carefully.
The contents were perfectly still but they seemed to jump out at her. Christine's heart clenched painfully as she recognised the lovely face that filled every photograph. Some forgotten scent rose from the objects. Christine picked up one of the photographs and looked sadly at the woman it showed. She smiled so freely, so happily, with no idea of the pain that her death would cause the man in the bed.
Christine's eyes went to the black jewellery box. She didn't want to open it. She knew what she would find inside.
She placed the picture back into the drawer and closed it slowly, tears prickling at her eyes as the realisation of what Erik was suffering hit her.
God, she loved him. She loved him so much it hurt her inside. She wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and forget the drawer, forget what was inside, forget this whole night. She wanted to go back to Erik and lie in his arms and pretend that this had never happened. That Erik hadn't been looking through this drawer, smelling Anna's scent, seeing Anna's face and thinking about her.
But she couldn't. She looked over at Erik again and wrapped her arms around herself tightly as she fought back the tears. Erik slept on. After a few minutes, struggling to breathe, Christine stood and slipped from the room, glass still sat on the floor and curtain swaying in the night air.
Did I disappoint you?
Or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty?
Or let the judges frown?
Because I saw the end
Before we'd begun
Yes, I saw you were blinded
And I knew I had won
The unfamiliar lyrics reached Erik's ears as he fought through the hazy half-consciousness between awake and asleep. He glanced at the clock radio and then beside him as the bittersweet music softly filled the room. But Christine was not there. He rose, pulling on a dressing gown. As he did so his eyes fell upon the glass that lay on the floor beside the drawer. Beside that drawer.
He had to find her. Had to explain…
The music followed him out, the words penetrating his skull. She was not in his apartment. He crossed the hallway and pushed open her door. Cat leapt from the sofa to greet him but Erik moved past him to the bedroom, where he heard movement and the radio, fixed to the same station as his own, the same unknown song playing.
I've kissed your lips
And held your head
Shared your dreams
And shared your bed
What he saw was not what he could have ever expected. A suitcase lay open on Christine's bed, clothes folded neatly inside. She turned, clasping a shirt in her hands and saw him. Her face turned to an expression of sorrow and resignation. Erik felt a lump rise to his throat.
"Christine…"
Goodbye my lover
Goodbye my friend
You have been the one
You have been the one for me
She turned and put the shirt into the suitcase, her movements slow but painfully certain. Erik took a step forward.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm leaving."
"…Where?"
"To Sorelli's." She said softly, opening a drawer and lifting underwear from it. Erik watched her and swallowed hard.
"Don't go." He whispered. It wasn't an order, it was a plea. Begging her. Christine clenched her jaw to stop herself from sobbing.
"I have to." She replied tightly.
Erik steeled himself to ask the question that was sending shooting pains into his heart.
"Will you come back?" She had her back to him so he couldn't see her expression. Which may have been a good thing, as it would have doubtless shattered his heart there and then. She didn't reply for a moment before saying,
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On you."
I've seen you cry
I've seen you smile
I've watched you sleeping for a while
I'd be the father of your child
I'd spend a lifetime with you
Finally, she turned to look at him. Erik fought back bitter tears at the sight of her lovely face, contorted into an expression of such sorrow.
"You have a choice to make, Erik. And you can't make it with me here."
"Christine-"
"You can't have us both." She said softly. "You can't hold me at night, make love to me, say the things you say and still be always thinking of her, wondering what life would have been like if it were her with you instead of me."
"I-"
"Don't deny it, Erik." He couldn't. She knew him too well. She bit her lip and said, "I know that you loved her. I understand that, it's fine. But I don't know if you still do and if you do, how much. I don't want you to forget about her completely, that's just not fair. But… but I need you to need me. Only me. I don't want to love you if you only want to love her."
I know your fears
And you know mine
We've had our doubts
But now we're fine
And I love you
I swear that's true
I cannot live without you
She closed her suitcase and pulled on her coat. Erik watched her and then reached out an arm to touch her hair. She was still for a second before leaning out of his reach to lift her suitcase, her silken strands leaving his fingers. Christine walked past, grasping the suitcase in both hands. Cat was waiting outside the bedroom and looked curiously at the suitcase. Christine glanced down at him and then back at Erik. He was still watching her.
Goodbye my lover
Goodbye my friend
You have been the one
You have been the one for me
"When you decide… tell me. On the phone, or come and see me at work. One way or the other, let me know." She said. Erik didn't reply. He was just watching her with an expression of utmost misery. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. She put down the suitcase and crossed to him. He didn't move, just watched her.
Christine hesitated and then pressed her lips softly to his. His eyes were squeezed shut, as though fighting an inner demon. Christine traced his mouth with her finger before whispering in a voice that was tight with pain,
"Thank you…. for everything that you gave me." She let out a shuddering breath as the tears came back. "You made me happy."
And I still hold your hand in mine
In mine when I'm asleep
And I will bear my soul in time
When I'm kneeling at your feet
Erik opened his eyes. She was by the door, suitcase in hand and head bowed so her face was covered by dark curls.
"Don't leave me." The words escaped him before he could stop them. She lifted her face and he saw that the tears she had fought so hard, so bravely, had defeated her and were running like pearls down her face.
For a brief moment, the shortest shining moment in the world, he thought that she would stay. That she would drop her suitcase and run back, promising never to leave him again. That they were in a beautiful story, where happily ever after really existed.
But, of course, she didn't. She spoke two words and then left, walking away with the tears still shining on her face, suitcase in one hand and Cat held in her other arm.
"Goodbye, Erik."
The door closed and she was gone. Erik felt a strange sensation and realised that the tears had escaped and were flooding down, under his mask. He sank down onto the edge of one of the chairs, holding his head in his hands as the tears fell, as he mourned in a way he had not done since a cold day when he had watched his beloved Anna being lowered into the ground.
Goodbye my lover
Goodbye my friend
You have been the one
You have been the one for me
A/N: The song is 'Goodbye My Lover' by James Blunt. As I mentioned before, we had a debate on a forum about using song lyrics in stories but I was determined on this one. When I'm writing something as emotional as this, music is a big inspiration and I'm hoping that when you read it, you can picture it in your mind. And if there's a song playing to enhance the mood, I'm hoping that it helps. Let me know what you think!
And sorry for all the angst. I know Christine's actions seem rash but the explanation for that will be next chapter.
Love
Katie