Disclaimer: Do I need to say it again? I…own…NOTHING! Can I make it any plainer? Here I'll do hand puppets…okay, maybe I won't. ;)

A/N: If anyone is reading this, I will try to get to the Opera House as quickly as possible, but right now, the timing is really becoming an issue. If any of you know the years that the story goes on, could you pretty, pretty please tell me? Thanks bunches! And please review me!

…Chapter 5…

I woke up in a strange room, on a strange bed, in a strange house that had unfamiliarity screaming at me from the very walls I stared at. I would have screamed in fright if not for the greater fright of what would happen if anyone heard me. After a matter of minutes, I decided it was safe and got up and went to the window. I gasped; I could see chickens, cows, and rows and rows of varying kinds of vegetables. I wondered now where I was and why I was here. The last thing I remembered was being held by the man in the cart while he drove. Then a thought a struck me, 'Is this his house? Did he bring me to his home? If so why? If not, then exactly where am I?' I decided that if I was going to find out anything, I had better get out of the room. I opened the slightly open door and walked down the hallway that led to the stairs that just last night Mary and Francis had walked down.

…In The Kitchen…

"I see that old Harold has won the latest horse race, again." Francis threw down the paper, finding nothing of interest he got up and went to stand next to his wife who was busy at the stove fixing eggs and bacon for breakfast. "Hmmm….That's very interesting dear." She was totally absorbed in her cooking. "I wonder if the child is up yet," Francis stroked his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. At this Mary's attention snapped to her husband, "Well, why don't you go see?" "No need, she's right here," he looked down at the little girl with a smile and said warmly. "Well, hello little one. How are you? Would you like some breakfast?" I nodded, all this time, I had still to speak a word. I licked my lips as I smelled my very first warm meal in years. I watched with an almost awed expression as she put heaping piles of bacon on a plate and great mounds of scrambled eggs next to it. To top it all off, she placed a huge glass of milk, probably fresh, to the side. I stared at the banquet for a long moment before glancing back at the pair with pleading eyes. "Oh sweet child," the woman picked me up and set me on the chair. "Here go on, eat." I smiled up at her and immediately started gulping down the food as quickly as possible, not even bothering with utensils. I must have looked quite astonishing for when I turned back to them, they both had wide eyed expressions of great amusement. "Well, I thought my cooking was fair, but I never thought it was that good." The woman chuckled to herself. "So, young one, what are you doing here?" She sat down next to me and gently placed her hand on my arm. At that thought, tears began to well up in my eyes again. "It's okay…it's okay, don't cry," I could hear them comforting me, but it didn't help. Nothing ever helped when I wanted to cry. Finally, I haltingly began my story. "Back…back a-across the water, that's where I lived," I sniffed and continued. "I was the youngest of thirt-teen children, my ma hated me and then one day they all left and forgot me…" I paused to angrily rub a fresh tear away. "So, so then I…I left. I got on a big boat and came here…Where is here?" I looked up at them. "This is France, the city of Cherbourg to be exact. From the sound of it, you were somewhere in England." The man paused before continuing, "The water you crossed was the English Channel. Child, what's your name?" "Deirdre," I answered, "My name is Deirdre." "I see, well then Deirdre, do you have anywhere to go?" I thought, I didn't know anything about France, I barely knew what France was. However, one day I had been hanging around some of the older children and overheard them talking about a new 'Opera House' in France. They said it was going to be the grandest in history, I had been about 3 at the time and I still have no idea why I remember that little piece of information, until now, it had seemed totally irrelevant. However, I was 9 years old and even as young as I was, I knew several things that some people never learn, like be grateful for the little you have, but more importantly I knew that I would never get a job at the Opera, even if I knew what 'opera' was. "No", I finally answered, "but I did hear about an Opera House here. What's opera? And why does it need a house?" The couple glanced at each other. Now, the Phantom was fairly well known, but this is still before Christine, or at least no one knows he's involved with her yet. "Opera is an art form in which people sing and dance and act. It's lots of fun to see, but a lot of work to be in," the wife now set about cleaning up what had been my breakfast. "Mary here," the man said to me in a low voice",used to be a ballerina at the old Opera House, but left when they built this new one." "Oh," I said, "Can I got to the Opera House and become a ballerina too?" "Certainly not." Said Mary briskly, "you're far too young. And if you were old enough, you'd have to have had years of practice to get in. It's impossible to make it as a ballerina in an opera house." "Oh," I said again. "Then, can I do something else at the Opera House?" "I'm sure you can, but not right now. You're still very, very young." Mary seemed to think that was the end of the discussion, but the man was scratching his ear thoughtfully. "Now Mary, I start on my monthly trip to Paris tomorrow. I could probably rake Deirdre along and get her an apprenticeship there to be a chorus girl or stage hand, or some such other job." I grinned childishly up at the man. "Chorus girl? Stage hand? You honestly think that they'd let her do that? At her age? It isn't safe!" "Now, now," he held up a hand to silence her. "Last I heard, they were accepting anyone over the age of 9." He turned to me. "Deirdre, now old are you?" I grinned and said proudly, "Nine and one half!" Okay, so maybe the half was a lie, but no one could prove otherwise. "Well there you are." "But Francis-!" "Mary, she'll be fine. I bet Madame Giry is still there, she'll look after Deirdre for us." "But, but!" "Miss Mary," I spoke up, "Could I please go? I promise that I'll be good and won't get into any trouble." I had often heard my older sisters say this to beg Ma to let them go somewhere, they were always lying though, 'cause I watched them. "Oh…fine. But promise me you'll be careful." "I promise!" At the time, I had had every intention of fulfilling that promise, but as luck would have it, fate had other plans, as usual. "Very well then. Now why don't you go play outside?" I ran through the doors and into the sunlight, I was going to the opera!