The Girl Next Door
When Sorelli and Meg got back from work that evening, Christine had changed out of her formal work clothes and was curled on the sofa, Cat purring contentedly in her lap. They sat on either side of her and Meg stroked her arm.
"Are you alright?"
"I've lost Erik. I've lost my job. I just don't know what to do next." Christine said, she got up and began to pace the room, her friends watching her sympathetically.
"Christine, you haven't lost your job. You're just… temporarily discharged." Meg pointed out. Christine didn't reply. After a moment, she stopped and shook her head, pushing her hair from her face.
"Where did I go wrong? Everything was so good… after all the shit that happened with Raoul and the divorce; I never thought that things would get better again. But they did and now I've ruined it."
She bowed her head, a couple of curly locks falling into her face. She whispered,
"If Erik decides that he doesn't want me, I'm leaving."
"Leaving?"
"To where?"
"I don't know. Anywhere that doesn't have Carlotta Guidacelli or Erik Destler. Somewhere where I can start over. I can't…" She rubbed her bloodshot eyes and shook her head, leaving the room to ascend the stairs to her room. Sorelli and Meg exchanged a disturbed look, in which both decided that something had to be done.
Erik set off early that morning. His destination was a good seventy miles or more away. The powerful Jaguar zipped along the motorways, streaming towards his target. In the front seat of the car sat a box. No music played. He did not want distractions.
He slowed his speed to thirty as he entered the town. Nobody glanced twice at the Jaguar with tinted windows as it passed discreetly through the streets. Not too far from the centre of the town, he pulled over, parking the car by the curb. He climbed out of the car and took the box. Beside it lay a small bouquet of flowers. And then he turned to face the cold, steely gates of the cemetery.
As he moved through the gates, the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees in spite of the steady sunshine that flooded the ground. He had only a vague idea of the location of the grave but the further he went into the graveyard, the clearer his mind came. He turned left, passing beneath some leafy trees that provided sweet shade from the sun's unforgiving heat. Erik walked slowly, being careful not to step on the earth in front of the graves.
A little way from the graves beneath the tree was a headstone of plain white marble. The grass sprung up around it, although it was free from moss or lichen. Erik moved slowly towards it and lowered to his knees. Slowly, carefully he brushed the grass away until the name was clear, it's strict, bold letters proclaiming the name of the woman who lay there.
Anna Sophia Merrington
Born 14th June 1971
Died 26th October 1999
Beloved Daughter and Fiancée
Taken too soon but always in our hearts
Anna's parents had organised the funeral. Whilst they had never been particularly fond of Erik, they had both been extremely distressed at his plans to leave after the funeral. Erik had not seen them since his departure and had always thought that to make contact with them would have interfered with the life that they would have established after the loss of their daughter.
Erik placed the flowers in the marble vase over the grave and read and reread the words to himself. How… ordinary they seemed. How mundane. They did not do justice to the extraordinary woman in the earth below them. They did not encapsulate the true being of Anna Merrington, of all that she had done with her life, of all that she could have done had God not torn her from this earth.
For several long minutes Erik sat reading the words. A bird was singing somewhere. A blackbird, Erik guessed. He turned to the box and took out the pictures he had of Anna. There weren't as many as he had thought, about a dozen. He had kept only one. The others, he tucked next to the vase. Several other objects followed, the scarf, an earring (the other had been lost many years ago) and a small glass bottle that contained the last few drops of her scent. The other papers and scraps had been disposed of, they were not important.
The only other thing that was not present was Anna's ring. Erik would not, could not part with it. Instead he had taken it to a safety deposit box, where he kept some of the more valuable possessions he had acquired in his travels. It would stay in that dark, dusty box with the one photograph he still had of Anna.
With his task complete he looked back at the grave. It seemed wrong to leave without saying anything. There was nobody nearby, nobody to judge what he was about to do.
"You do understand, don't you?" He murmured, placing a hand on the earth. The grass was thick between his long fingers. "I love her. That isn't to say that I don't miss you or that I don't love you any longer. But one cannot love that which is gone, Anna. I'm still here, I'm still breathing and I love her so very much."
He paused and looked at the pictures, at the smiling faces.
"No more nightmares. No more haunting. I won't hurt her, Anna. I can't. Please… help me to let go." He whispered, a lump in his throat. "Let me love her freely."
For a moment he paused. He didn't know what he was expecting. Thunderbolts or some sort of revelations, or something of the sort. All that actually happened was a soft, warm breeze stirring the trees and lifting his hair slightly. And yet a strange, warm peace had settled over his soul. As a silent treaty had been made. He could almost imagine Anna's smile, a slight eye-roll, her voice saying 'Nothing's holding you back, Erik. What are you waiting for?'
It was a good question. Erik stood and a half-smile touched his lips. He wanted nothing more than to race at top speed back to town, to go to Sorelli's house and take Christine home. But he couldn't. He needed to make sure first, to make sure that he truly was free. Tonight he would see what dreams or nightmares came and then, if Anna kept her promise, he would go to Christine and love her for as long as eternity could last.
The next day was Thursday. Sorelli had looked in on Christine before leaving for work. She had been sleeping, Cat perched on the end of the bed, cleaning his face with a paw. He gave her an offended look for interrupting him and turned his back on her, prowling towards the pillow.
Meg was waiting by the office door for her, when she arrived at work, leaning against the door with her arms folded in a pleased manner.
"How is she?" She asked.
"She was sleeping when I left. Meg, I am seriously worried about her. She's just… fallen apart. It's frightening." Sorelli murmured. "She's always been so strong."
"I know what'll cheer you up." Meg said, fighting back a grin. "Come and see what Jammes is doing." Sorelli gave her a confused look and they went inside.
They were instantly accosted by Jammes, who held a clipboard with several pieces of paper attached to it.
"Sign this."
"What is it?" Sorelli asked, scribbling her name.
"A petition for Christine's immediate return." Jammes grinned. "Nearly everyone's signed it. And you wait until you see what Marla and Lila are doing!"
The two other women who had been named as possible firings were sat at a computer by the printer with a crowd of people around them. Meg pushed through, curious as to what had captured their attention.
"What are you doing?"
"We're writing a letter to Mr Guidacelli, requesting Carlotta's removal." Marla said. "Jammes is doing the petition and Carlton is making up a few fake articles to scare Firmin and Carlotta into thinking that we're getting the local press involved. We don't like to resort to it but Christine risked her neck for us. Carlotta can't fire the whole company and the whole company is involved with this."
Meg and Sorelli looked at each other and smiled. Lila looked up at them,
"Got any more ideas? We've already agreed to strike if it gets that serious but we're hoping it won't come to that."
"Call Noel Lefevre and Ubaldo Piangi. They both worked with Christine; let's see if they'd be willing to support her return." Sorelli suggested. Meg tapped her arm, an idea blossoming in her mind.
"Tell Firmin that I've got an errand to run. I'll be back in an hour or so, two at the most. Marla, can you print that letter? I'll take it to Guidacelli Tech on my way back."
"Where are you going?" Sorelli said, half-distracted from the other information that was being fired at her. Meg grinned.
"To see your boyfriend."
Nadir and Erik were avidly discussing the opening night of Hannibal when Meg arrived. She approached them, a confident expression on her face. They looked at her in surprise.
"Miss Giry." Erik said, surprised to see her. "What can we do for you?"
"It's not what you can do for me. It's what you can both do for Christine." Meg said. Erik's brow furrowed as he surveyed her with mistrustful eyes.
"What do you mean?" He demanded.
"Meg, is something wrong?" Nadir asked. He was clearly the more intuitive of the pair at the current moment in time so Meg spoke to him.
"Christine has been dismissed from work. She and Carlotta got into a massive argument yesterday and Firmin's making her work from home until he's decided what to do."
"Why were they arguing?"
"Carlotta's trying to fire four people from work for no reason other than her ego needs a boost. Christine told her there was no way in hell she'd let it happen and sparks flew. Anyway, the whole company is up in arms about it at the moment. Petitions going around, threats to involve the local press unless Christine's brought back, I've got a letter to deliver to Mr Guidacelli on my way back. We're getting all of Christine's clients involved, trying to rally a bit of support for her. And the Hawthorn is her biggest clientele."
Nadir and Erik exchanged a look.
"What do you want us to do?"
"Give Firmin a nasty phone call. Get on the phone to Guidacelli Tech. Come to the office and yell at people. Just something to show your support. We're leaning the peer pressure onto Firmin and if I've learned anything from school, it's that you should always give in to peer pressure."
They both looked at her blankly and she shrugged.
"I didn't do particularly well at school. Anyway, can I count on you two to help?"
"Of course. I'll go and call Firmin now." Nadir said. Erik looked at Meg.
"How… how is she?" he asked, a little awkwardly.
"Depressed. She looked like she'd crying all day when we got back yesterday." Meg made sure no one was listening before saying quietly, "Erik, she's thinking of leaving. Leaving town."
"What?"
"Look at it from her point of view. She thinks she's lost you, her job is on the edge of being taken away and she can't even live in her own apartment anymore. Everything she's fought for has been wiped out within a matter of days. All I'm saying is that we need to get her back on her feet and fast." Meg straightened and nodded to him. "I'd better get on my way, I've got a nasty letter to deliver and I'm highly going to enjoy doing it. See you later."
Erik hesitated and then said,
"If you need anything… if there's something I could do…" Meg smiled.
"I'll give you a call."
She disappeared in a flash of blonde hair. Erik watched her go and then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He had been planning to go and see Christine that night. He had had no nightmares, no dreams, nothing. It was the sign he had been waiting for.
But he would have to wait before rushing in to confess his complete love for her. Christine needed his help and he would not have denied her anything, even if the request was not direct. And he had a vague idea of what to do in order to help her.
Meg Giry was twenty-five years of age, blonde, five feet and six inches in height, slim, cheerful, positive, optimistic, caring, kind and a thousand other adjectives of the kind. Her mother was Caroline Giry, her father had been Adam Giry before he had passed away from terminal cancer just months after her birth. She had grown up in this town, gone to school here, gone to the local university to study design and communication. She spoke almost fluent French, enjoyed light rock/pop music, her favourite film was Grease and her favourite food was chilli, although she was particularly partial to any kind of chocolate. She was seeing Matt Pearson and made it a point to go out with her friends on a regular basis.
She had met Christine in the summer before they started university. Meg had been a regular at the café where Christine worked part time. She had been with Christine throughout the loss of her father and whilst he two had drifted apart a little in university, Meg had been one of Christine's bridesmaids. Meg started work at Populaire Advertising and had told Christine about the open position. Thus they had started working together and their friendship had been reborn stronger than ever, to also include Sorelli who proved to be a loyal and buoyant friend from the first. When her marriage fell apart, Meg has taken Christine into her home and helped her to find a new place to live, with the assistance of Richard Firmin.
All these facts cannot truly contribute to the true description of the person that Meg was. But it provides enough of a description for one to understand the passion and determination that she felt in fighting for Christine's cause.
She walked into the impressive looking reception of Guidacelli Teach and approached the receptionist.
"Excuse me, could you tell me where to find Mr Guidacelli?"
"Mr Guidacelli is very busy today. Would you like an appointment?" The receptionist asked. Meg shook her head.
"I have urgent business to discuss with him, regarding his daughter. It's very important that I see him right away."
"Well… I'll call up, but I doubt he'll see you." She said, not sounding as if she particularly cared one way or the other. Meg nodded and lightly tapped the glass-top desk with her fingernails as the receptionist called through.
"Mr Guidacelli, I've got someone here from…"
"Populaire Advertising."
"From Populaire Advertising. She says she has urgent business regarding Miss Guidacelli." She paused and listened. "Of course, sir."
She hung up and looked at Meg.
"Take the elevator to the top floor."
"Cheers." Meg grinned at her and sauntered to the elevator.
Mr Guidacelli's office was surprisingly comfortable. Dark décor, leather chairs and a fantastic view of the town. He looked at her in curiosity as she entered and stood to shake her hand.
"What can I do for you, Miss…?"
"Meg Giry. I'm pretty much just here to deliver this." Meg handed him the envelope.
"What is it?"
"It is a request from the staff, not the manager mind you, but from the staff of Populaire Advertising that Carlotta be removed from the office." Meg said calmly.
Mr Guidacelli looked at her for a moment, his dark eyes slightly narrowed and then signalled for her to sit in the leather chair opposite his desk. Meg did so, thoroughly determined not to let herself be intimidated. But that did not seem to be Mr Guidacelli's aim.
"Miss Giry, might I ask why the staff are requesting this?"
"No offence, Mr Guidacelli, but Carlotta has made the office a nightmare to work in. You must know about her promotion?"
"Yes, of course."
"Since she's gotten that promotion she has been on the warpath. And yesterday she announced that she wanted to fire four people for no other reason than she wants to exercise her new power." Meg said calmly. Mr Guidacelli surveyed her for a few minutes and Meg continued.
"She and one of the workers, Christine Daae, got into an argument yesterday. Firmin has temporarily dismissed Christine because of it, even though she was only trying to stop Carlotta from firing those people. She's one of the best workers at PA and I can tell you now that everyone is unimpressed at her dismissal. Everyone in the office is prepared to strike if she loses her job."
"And don't think it needs to come to that." Mr Guidacelli said.
He reached onto his desk and took a cigarette from a packet. He offered one to her but she shook her head. He lit the cigarette and watched the wisps of blue smoke rise from the smouldering tip as he considered the situation. Meg waited, feeling a little impatient. He took the letter and opened it. His eyes slowly followed the lines of writing but his expression didn't falter from one of quiet contemplation.
Eventually he lowered the letter and took another puff of his cigarette before looking across at her.
"I can understand where you are all coming from. My daughter, much as I love her, is not the most compatible person in the world." He paused, smiling briefly, taking another inhalation of the cigarette. "You wish for me to remove her from the job?"
"Yes." Meg said.
"And what do you suppose she would do after that?"
"To be frankly honest, Mr Guidacelli, I don't care." Meg said flatly.
He looked at her and for a terrifying moment Meg thought he was going to start shouting. But instead he chuckled throatily and lounged back in his chair.
"I appreciate your honesty. I would need to send another envoy to Populaire Advertising, someone else from the company; you understand that, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Hmm…" He stroked his chin, which was free of stubble. "Perhaps we could arrange something. I would need to discuss it with Richard Firmin first, of course. Maybe Carlotta would feel more at home in the family company."
Meg smiled.
"Thanks, Mr Guidacelli."
"I'll contact Firmin as soon as I have a chance. In the meantime, I have a board meeting to get to." He held out his and clasped hers. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Giry."
And, to his credit, he sounded as though he genuinely meant it.
When Meg returned to Populaire Advertising, she found it had not changed much, other than the fact that Carlotta had now barricaded herself in her office and was refusing to come out. This deserved a smile from all involved.
"Firmin is bouncing off the walls; his phone hasn't stopped ringing since we contacted the clients!" Jammes announced triumphantly. Sorelli smiled.
"How'd it go?"
"Erik and Nadir are in. And Mr Guidacelli looked like he was on our side as well."
"Fantastic!"
"He's coming!" Someone shouted. There was a scramble and quietness fell over the office as everyone pretended to be working. Firmin emerged, looking thoroughly red in the face. He caught sight of Meg and beckoned to her and Sorelli.
"I've just had the Hawthorn Theatre on the telephone. They're threatening to withdraw their business unless we reinstate Christine."
"Then don't you think you should?" Meg said. He glowered at her.
"You're perfectly aware of the situation I'm in. Do you think that I wanted to dismiss her? Carlotta is too important!"
"And Christine apparently means nothing." Sorelli said quietly. Firmin sighed.
"You know that I don't think that. But unless a miracle occurs, I can't move."
Sorelli's mobile phone began to ring and she flicked it open.
"Yes? Oh, hi! How are you feeling? …sure, that's no problem. Don't worry yourself, OK? See you later." She hung up. "That was Christine. She wants me to pick a few things up from her office so she can carry on working on the Hannibal opening."
Meg glanced at Firmin, who shrugged feebly.
"Fine… take her whatever she needs."
"What she needs, Richard, is the job she has spent the last three years doing, the job she has poured herself into without hesitation. But she can't have it because that," Meg gestured at Carlotta's office, "pathetic excuse for a human being is more important to you now."
Firmin didn't reply. What could he have said? Anything he said would have just dug him deeper into his hole. Meg walked away to her cubicle, where she sat watching him with narrowed eyes. He turned to Sorelli, but she had disappeared as well. Feeling thoroughly rejected, he returned to his office.
Raoul de Chagny had started the day in a fairly good mood. It looked to be another ordinary day and he had a few plans of what to do. What he could not have foreseen was the telephone call he received from one Erik Destler.
"Destler? As if in, the Hawthorn Destler? Christine's Destler?"
"Congratulations. Now that you've solved the mystery, I need to have a word with you." The sarcastic, smooth voice oozed from the receiver. Raoul scowled and said,
"What can I do for you, Mr Destler?"
"Christine needs a favour."
"Oh? Why hasn't she rung me herself?" Raoul said, turning from side to side in his rotating chair.
"Because she is currently… unavailable. Do you know a Carlotta Guidacelli?"
"Sure, she works at Populaire, doesn't she? She and Christine don't get on." Raoul said, twirling his pen between his fingers, wondering exactly why he was talking to this man.
"Due to Carlotta's interference, Christine has been dismissed. Her job is in the balance."
Raoul dropped his fountain pen in surprise. Ink splattered the page of clean, white paper before him but he ignored it.
"I don't believe it."
"Believe it."
"But… why are you calling me?"
"Miss Giry visited me earlier today. She and the rest of the employees at Populaire are trying to gather as much support as possible for Christine in order to convince Mr Firmin to reinstate her."
"And you want me to help?"
"Your name holds a large amount of influence in this town. Even if you aren't directly working with Populaire, your support for her cannot do anything but help Christine."
Raoul was silent for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure what to say. He knew that Erik Destler would not beg for his involvement, even if it did benefit Christine. He took a deep breath and said,
"I assume that you'd rather Christine didn't know that we had discussed this?"
"If it's all the same to you."
"That's fine. Destler… you shouldn't let her get away. I did and I'm still regretting it. I think you've still got a chance. Don't blow it."
"…Goodbye." He hung up and Raoul sat with a thoughtful frown on his face before calling the secretary in.
"Can you get me a number for Populaire Advertising, please?"
"How long have they been in there?" Sorelli muttered, watching Carlotta's office door. It was no late afternoon and about an hour previously Mr Guidacelli had materialised, insisting that he and Firmin meet with Carlotta immediately to discuss the situation.
"Too long." Meg said, perched on the edge of Jammes desk. Jammes was chewing her nails one by one, nervously waiting for news. Everyone was strolling the office tensely, drinking countless cups of coffee and walking casually past Carlotta's office in the hope of hearing something. Sorelli sat down, rubbing her swollen stomach as Meg whistled tunelessly, counting the ceiling panels again as they waited for the results of their campaign. It did not seem dissimilar to waiting for a verdict that could condemn one to life or death. And so they continued to wait.
Christine put down her pen and reached for her mobile phone as it began to ring in an obnoxiously cheerful ring tone. She glanced at the screen and froze.
Call incoming
Populaire Advertising
A/N: Quick update! Because your reviews were just awesome! I told you Christine would hardly appear in this chapter. I'm trying to round Meg out a bit and it was interesting to go from different points of view. Probably not my best work but I like the idea of everyone in PA gathering around to help Christine out.
Love
Katie