Chapter Nine
Finally somebody heard Jim and came running. The stagehand snatched the keys away from the young man and opened the door, running inside.
There was nobody there. Jim walked around the room in disbelief, seeing a bloodstained letter opener on the ground, but nothing else was out of place.
More than angry, and scared for the dancer, Jim remembered a name that Leah had mentioned in connection to the man that had frightened her.
Madame Giry.
Jim burst through the ballet mistress' door, thoroughly scaring her. "Can… can I help you Monsieur?" She asked hesitantly, seeing the look on his face.
"Where is she?" He asked coldly.
"Excuse me?"
"Where did he take her!" Jim growled.
She did not respond and Jim hauled her to her feet, dragging her out of the room. He pulled her all the way to Leah's room, unconsciously mimicking Madame Giry's exact actions the night of the play.
He let go of her only when they were in her room. He glared at her while she took a few steps into the room, looking around. Madame Giry ended up near the vanity and saw something on the floor. It was a small card and she recognized the writing.
"Oh dear," she whispered.
"Where is she?" Jim asked coldly.
Leah woke slowly, her head pounding. She kept her eyes closed, knowing she was somewhere unfamiliar. She was not sure what she was lying on, but knew she was not in her bed, and the air around her was damp and rather unpleasant. She quieted her breathing, but could hear nothing except for the occasional drip of water.
Leah opened her eyes cautiously and saw that she was lying in a wide bed surrounded by thick curtains, blocking out most of the light. Panic started to rise, and Leah checked herself over internally. Her clothes were still in place and nothing felt out of the ordinary, and she sighed in relief. Her head was throbbing and her wrist was sore, but she had expected that.
She sat up, safe behind the concealing curtains, and peeked out through a small gap. She saw nothing but water and mossy pillars and a high, damp ceiling. She crawled over the bed and looked out the other side. She saw that she was on a high platform, and there was another larger one beneath her. It was full of walls and curtains, creating a large maze. Leah shuddered, and hoped she did not have to find her way through it.
Very carefully, she stepped down onto the cold floor, past the curtains. There was a set of wide stairs in front of her. Looking around, she saw that the platform was against one wall, but the other three sides were surrounded by water, with nothing but pillars, nothing to tell her where she was.
The space below her was full of candles, yet everything remained dim. Leah saw furniture and other things, telling her that somebody lived here. She could not see the blond man anywhere, so she started to creep down the stairs. She shivered and rubbed her arms lightly, having lost her robe in her room at one point.
She saw a ledge leading behind the tall wall that looked promising, and hoped she could make her way over to it without being seen. Leah got to the bottom, her bare feet already numb from the cold rock. She straightened a bit, trying to see everywhere at once.
"Good evening my dear," The Phantom said from behind her. "I see you are awake and well."
Leah spun around, almost tripping in her haste to back away from him. "Well!" She cried. "If you call being hit into unconsciousness and dragged off to God knows where, well, then yes, I suppose I am well."
"I do apologize for the force, my sweet, but it was needed." He sighed as if dealing with a troublesome child. "You were being most uncooperative."
"Hmpf," Leah mumbled, looking around for something else to use as a weapon. "I wonder why."
The Phantom took a step closer, and seeing the look on her face, did not take any more. "We got off to a bad start," he said apologetically.
"I should say so," Leah said, her fear fading away under the flames of anger.
"Please dearest, I am trying to fix things between us." He held out his hands to her entreatingly.
"There is nothing between us you maniac!" Leah cried. "And stop calling me dear! I want nothing to do with you!"
"Leah, you are not helping. I can be quite charming if you would let me." He took another step towards her.
"Yes, striking and kidnapping a helpless woman is very charming. Why did I not see that before?" Leah said sarcastically.
The Phantom sighed, seeing he was getting nowhere with her. "I see that I will have to slide gracefully into your life, opposed to just barging in. I can help you, my sweet, I can show you how it is to feel such love. Perhaps next time we meet you will be willing to love me as I love you."
"There will not be a next time," she said, foolishly turning her back to him. "I can assure you of that."
Before she knew it, he rushed forward, striking her near the temple again. And again, Leah's world grew dark.
Madame Giry watched as Jim paced the length of her office, his angry strides contradicting his seemingly calm face. Finally he stopped, staring at her. Leah had been missing for a few hours, and the passing time was not improving his temper.
"Who was that man you made Leah meet?" He asked her and she winced slightly.
"He," she hesitated. "He is the one they call the Opera Ghost."
"What?" Jim all but yelled. "And you help him?"
She looked down at her hands. "He pays me well to take care of the things he cannot."
"Does he pay you well enough to let him abduct girls from under your care?"
She looked up at him, eyes defiant. "He was not supposed to take her away! He knows I would not permit it."
"Yes," Jim scorned. "I see that he listens to you very well," he said and she flushed. "How does he get around this place?"
"I do not know, Monsieur," she said honestly. "He leaves me notes and letters in my office, I rarely see him anywhere."
"Well the two of us are going to go back to Leah's room and find out where he went," he said, his voice tight with anger. "We are going to find her, before she comes to any harm. And if she is harmed," he threatened quietly. "He will pay with his life."
Madame Giry followed Jim back to Leah's dressing room. They had locked the door when they had left, so nobody else could get in and tamper with anything.
Jim unlocked the door and walked into the dark room. He immediately lit the small lamp near the door and went around lighting candles. He bit the inside of his cheek, something was different. Something had been changed.
"Someone has been here," he said to the ballet mistress, still at the door. "Somebody has come here after we left."
Jim looked around warily, thankful the room was small enough to see everything in it. He looked to the curtained bed and narrowed his eyes. Somebody had closed the curtains, he thought. They were open before.
He walked to them slowly, motioning for Madame Giry to remain silent. He stepped lightly across the wooden floor, keeping his footfalls silent.
Jim raised his hands and gently grabbed a curtain in each one. In one quick movement he jerked them wide open.
"Leah!" he cried.
The dancer was sprawled across the bed as if she had been thrown there. She was lying on her side, her tied wrists keeping her from lying flat on her stomach. Her ankles were tied roughly together as well and her night clothes were damp and a bit dirty.
Jim reached gently forward and brushed her hair away from her face, wincing at her bruises. There was a lump near one temple and her bottom lip was split open. He sighed in relief though, to see she was breathing normally.
"Is she – " Madame Giry started, but Jim cut her off.
"She will be fine." He said. "You should leave."
"But," she protested, and again he would not let her speak.
"I will take care of her," he said, overriding her objection. "You have done quite enough already."
He listened as she stood silent for a moment, then she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Jim turned back to the unconscious young woman. He carefully untied her limbs, not wanting her to wake up bound.
"Leah," he said softly, shaking her shoulder a bit. "Leah dear heart, I need you to wake."
After a few minutes of coaxing, Leah began to rouse, and Jim prepared himself.
"Leah?" He asked in a quiet voice. "Are you all right?"
"Jim?" Her voice was very quiet. "Jim?"
"It is all right, I am here," he said and put a hand on her arm.
"Jim," she said shakily and began to cry. He gathered her into his arms and rocked her back and forth as she sobbed into his chest.
"Oh Leah," he whispered into her hair. "I am so sorry I was not here. I was not here to protect you." He cursed himself inwardly as she shivered against him, tears pouring down her cheeks.
She cried herself out eventually, but stayed in his arms, feeling safe in his embrace. She clutched at his shirt with one hand, and dried her face with the other. "It's okay," she whispered, her throat sore from tears. "It is not your fault Jim. He waited until you left."
He shook his head. "I should not have left," he said sadly.
Leah chuckled lowly and sat up so she could look into his face. "What are you supposed to do, sit in my room every time I am there to make sure he leaves me alone?"
His mouth curled in a bit of a smile, then faded to seriousness once more. "Did he harm you?" He asked.
Leah sighed and touched her face gently. "He hit me. A few times. But no, not in the sense you mean."
"Where did he take you?" He asked, tightening his arms around her.
"I don't know. Underground. There was water everywhere, and it had that damp smell to it." Leah shivered, remembering something he had said before knocking her out again. "He is going to come back," she whispered. "He is not going to leave me alone."
"I will not let him take you," he said fiercely. "He will have to go through me."
Leah leaned her head back onto his chest, desperately wanting to believe his words.
The next day Jim woke Leah early. He told her to dress in her warm clothing and meet him down in the stables.
"Why?" She asked, still half asleep. "Where are we going?"
"I spoke with the managers this morning and they gave you the day off. I am taking you away from the city for the day. Now get dressed," he said, sounding in high spirits.
He closed the door and Leah rolled out of bed and shakily made her way over to her small closet. She dressed quickly and splashed cold water on her face, waking herself up completely.
Leah wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and hurried out of the room. Outside the air was cold and she could see her breath freeze into mist. She looked around for Jim, but did not see him until the carriage pulled out of the stable building. He pulled the horses to a stop in front of her.
"Your ride, my lady," he said, taking her hand and helping her into the open carriage.
Once she was settled, Jim clucked to the horses and they pulled away from the Opera House. They passed through the loud streets, Leah shying away from the noise. Jim noticed her discomfort and shook the reins, urging the horses to go faster. Not soon enough for Leah, they left the city, and the noise, behind them.
Leah felt herself relaxing, the quiet calm of the snow covered trees and hills lightening her mood. She sighed and leaned deeper into the bench, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. She looked over at her driver and saw that he also looked much more relaxed. Leah frowned, feeling guilty for affecting Jim like this. He did not deserve to suffer because of her. She did not deserve his careful concern.
They rode on for close to an hour, turning off onto a smaller track under the trees. They went slower, the track they were on was much less used than the bigger road ways. Eventually they came to a break in the trees, a small, open water lake breaking through the forest. The horses pulled the carriage off of the road, cutting their own path through the light snow.
Jim pulled the two mares to a stop and jumped lightly from the carriage. He unhitched the horses and hobbled them, letting them wander and graze at the trees. Leah sat and looked out at the glittering water, the only sounds were the splashes of fish in the lake and the peaceful horse noises coming from behind her.
Leah closed her eyes and revelled in the near silence. She had not realized how much the hectic atmosphere of the theatre was weighing down on her until she was away from it.
Jim stepped back into the coach, sitting in the roomier back seat. Leah climbed over to sit across from him. He pulled a thick blanket over their legs and lifted the wicker basket onto the seat next to him. Still without a word, he handed her a thick wooden mug and poured still-hot tea from a canteen. They shared a loaf of warm bread, a chunk of cheese and slices of the stringy roast from the night before.
A while later, Jim broke the silence. "How are you doing?" He asked.
"Much better," she told him. "I needed a break. It was a good idea to come out here."
Jim toyed with a crust of bread. "Why do you stay at the Opera?" He finally asked. "Nothing is easy on you there, everything and everyone is demanding on your time and energy. Why do you stay there?"
Leah looked surprised at the question. "It is my home," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders.
"You have only been there a short time over a year," he reminded her. "Surely you can find somewhere else to work."
Leah shook her head. "No, you do not understand," she said. "It is my home." She looked down at her hands. "My mother was the Prima Ballerina, at the Opera House."
"The Opera House?" He repeated. "You mean the one we work at now?"
Leah nodded. "Years ago, when the major part of performances were the ballets, not the operas. She is the reason performers are not allowed to associate with patrons outside of the Opera."
Jim raised his eyebrow in silent question.
"She and one of the patrons saw each other regularly. It went on for about a year until the managers put a stop to it."
"Why," Jim asked. "What happened?"
"I happened," Leah said sheepishly. "When they found out my mother was pregnant, they wanted to fire her. But she was their star, and my father offered to pay them extra and leave. Within the next week he was gone to London. My mother remained at the Opera House and they kept her secluded until I came around. I was born in one of the dressing rooms."
"Really?" Jim refilled their mugs. "Did you stay at the Opera House?"
"I had to, I had nowhere else to go. I grew up in the Opera, my friends were the stagehands and my teacher, the ballet mistress and her apprentice, Madame Giry. I played with the sets and costumes until I grew old enough to begin practicing."
"How old were you then?" He asked, playing with a bit of her cloak.
"Eight," Leah said.
"Isn't that rather young? I usually hear of girls beginning when they are around twelve."
Leah shrugged. "I had nothing better to do."
They sat in silence for a moment, sipping from their mugs. A few solitary winter birds flapped across the lake, but otherwise the water and surrounding field was quiet. Leah breathed in the cold air and smiled a little.
"What did you do then?" Jim prompted her.
Leah set down her mug and hid her hands under her cloak to warm them. "I stayed at the Opera until, until my mother died." She looked down and away. "She was caught outside in a storm one night. She got sick and…did not get better."
Jim put his arm around her and drew her close. "I'm sorry," he said quietly and she shook her head.
"I was only fourteen, so they sent me to live with my father in England."
"But you did not know him," Jim said, startled. "Why would they send you to him?"
"He was my only family left," she explained. "They did not need another young ballerina around and wanted to get rid of me."
"How was London?"
Leah shook her head again and tucked her feet under the blanket. "It was not home. I did not like it. I did not know my father and he did not know what to do with me. When he learned that I was a dancer, he sent me to singing lessons, to go along with the ballet, he said." Leah chuckled humourlessly. "All that time he went to watch my mother and he did not pay attention enough to know that ballets do not have singing. But to keep him happy I went, and my voice turned out better than I would have thought.
"I only stayed there until I was old enough to not need a guardian anymore. My father was not used to having a young girl around the house and we did not get along very well. I came back here as soon as I could. The Opera was under new management and they had no problem letting me come back." Leah blinked, clearing her eyes. "But now that I've babbled on for how long, what about you? Did you grow up here?"
Jim swallowed. "Yes, I grew up here as well, all my life. I have traveled some, but Paris always drew me back."
"You traveled?" She asked him. "Your family must have quite a bit of money to send you places. I saved from the day I got to London until I could leave. And it took four years before I had enough."
"My family did have some money yes," Jim admitted. "But I left my home a long time ago. Just as you did not get along with your father, I did not get along with my family. I separated myself from my parents ten years ago."
"Ten!" Leah straightened to look at him. "But you were only fifteen then! How did you survive?"
Jim shrugged. "I worked. Most places had need of a young pair of legs to run errands. Once I saved up enough money I would go to somewhere else, but eventually I came back. I began working at the Opera House about a year before you came." He shrugged again. "There is not much to tell," he said.
Leah thought he looked a little uncomfortable and dropped the subject, not wanting to ruin the day.
Soon after they left the carriage and walked through the snow, watching the lake and keeping an eye on the horses. They had made a large circle, tracing the water's edge and then moving into the trees on their way back.
They broke out into the field again and Leah let Jim get a bit ahead of her. She bent and scooped up a handful of snow, happy she had remembered her mittens.
"Where did you go?" Jim asked while turning. As soon as he was facing her Leah let her snow fly, striking him in the chest.
He looked down at the snow dripping from his cloak, and looked back up at her. "It's like that is it?" He asked, eyebrow raised.
She started to run as he bent down, giving him a wide berth. She soon found out that it was difficult to run through light fluffy snow and Jim caught up to her quickly, announcing his presence with a mass of snow colliding into her back.
Leah took a handful of snow in each mitten as she ran, laughing. She lobbed them back over her head in Jim's general direction. She grinned, hearing both strike with a satisfying thud.
Jim growled and jumped at her. They fell into the snow, Jim pulling Leah on top of him to cushion her impact. They struggled for a while, laughing, Leah trying to fight free and Jim making sure she did not succeed.
After a while Leah gave up. She looked down at Jim, snow caught in her hair and eyelashes, cheeks rosy from the cold and exertions. Jim's breath caught in his throat and he stilled. She had been unhappy for so long, and seeing her happy enough to laugh and play in the snow was like seeing spring after a long and dark winter.
Leah caught onto his shift of mood and then realized that she was lying on top of him. But instead of pushing away she moved a bit closer, thinking she was reading his expression right. Their faces shifted closer together and Leah's heart began to beat faster. They had not kissed since the play and Leah could not deny that she was rather looking forward to it.
Leah half closed her eyes and waited for his lips to come into contact with hers. But the kiss did not come. Leah looked up at him, seeing a brief flash of indecision and ill at ease pass over his face. It was gone before Leah could decide if she had actually seen it. Jim shoved a handful of snow down the back of her neck and she yelped, starting up another snow fight
Eventually they made their way back to the carriage. The day was starting to grow late and while Leah was dreading the return, it did not diminish the joy she felt from her one day of freedom. She was damp everywhere from the snow, and very cold, but she had loved every minute.
Jim drove them back to the Opera House as the sun began to set. He helped her down from the carriage near the main doors and kept her hand in his. He bent towards her and Leah felt her excitement return. He kissed her briefly on the cheek, avoiding her slightly puckered lips. "I will see you tomorrow," he said and leapt up into the carriage and drove away before she could even thank him.
Leah's smile disappeared and her excitement faded into confusion. Why did he not want to kiss her? She wondered. If he had written to her, telling her how much he cared for her, why was he backing away now? Leah frowned, pulling her cloak tighter around her. Perhaps he regretted writing the letter now, and did not care for her as he once had. Maybe she had turned out like the other ballerinas he disliked.
Disappointment rose in her chest and she trudged her way up to her room. As she was staring down at the floor, she did not know there was someone standing in front of her until a pair of booted feet came into her line of vision. She looked up into Victor's anxious face and repressed a sigh. "Can I help you Victor?" She asked, not hiding the irritation in her voice.
"I need to speak with you," he said. "Do you have a moment?"
The genuine pain in his voice struck a chord in Leah's heart, and softening her tone she replied; "Yes, I do."
Relief swept over his face and he led her to an empty room, not far from the hallway. Leah walked through the open door and Victor came in behind her, closing it with a soft click. He turned to her and Leah was surprised to see the hint of tears in his hazel eyes. She pushed away her dislike for him for a moment, alarmed at his distress.
"Victor, whatever is the matter?" She asked, concerned.
"Leah," he said, his voice shaky. He took a step towards her and took one of her hands. "I cannot bear this any longer. It pains me whenever I look at you and you return my look with nothing but anger and hurt. Do you hate me that much that you cannot even bear to look at me without contempt?"
"Oh Victor," she said softly and pulled away from him, finding a crate to sit upon. "I liked you just fine until you started plotting with Carlotta."
Victor dropped to rest on his knees in front of the crate, looking up at her. "Leah I tried to explain, it was all Carlotta's doing. She hates you and wanted to use me to get back at you. I am still rather new here, and I cannot afford to be on Carlotta's bad side. But I shouldn't have listened to her!" He all but shouted. "Oh Leah, I wish I could take it all back, but I cannot. The most I can do now is beg your forgiveness for my foolish actions." He took her hands again. "Please, can you find it within your heart to forgive me?"
The look on his face and the tone in which he spoke convinced her far more than his words. She did not want to be the cause of his unhappiness. She relented, "I think I can Victor," she said, and he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his knee. Doubt prickled at the edge of her mind, but she ignored it. The man was obviously in pain, she did not want to harm anyone.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "I know I damaged what there was between us, but I swear Leah, I will do everything I can for you to regain your trust in me."
"Perhaps next time you can warn me before Carlotta's plots include me," Leah said dryly.
Victor stood, drawing Leah to her feet as well. She looked away as he wiped moisture from his eyes. She turned back to him when he spoke. "Of course, my lady. You can be sure that I will never participate in her plans again."
He tucked her hand into his elbow and they walked out into the hallway. Victor offered to take her to her room and she agreed, having missed supper and no appetite. On their way up, Leah looked longingly towards the dormitories, wishing she was back in the crowded room. Sure there was no privacy and sometimes the girls were too loud and irritating, but she never felt alone there. She sighed unthinkingly.
"What is the matter?" Victor asked her.
"Nothing," she said. "I just miss my friends."
"But you see them every day!" He exclaimed.
Leah shook her head. "You would not understand. I lived in the chorus, ate and slept with the chorus, practiced and performed with the girls. Now I am off by myself and I can feel the difference." She shrugged. "It's no matter. I'm sure I will get used to it," she said, ending the conversation.
The hallway to her room seemed unnaturally long and Leah wondered why she was given the absolute last one. There were plenty of open rooms a lot closer than hers. Leah led the way and stopped at her door, hoping he did not want to come in.
"So this is where they put you," Victor said, looking back down the long hall. "Rather far walk, don't you think?"
Leah chuckled. "Yes, a far walk indeed." She gently pulled her arm from his grasp.
"Well," he said, a bit awkwardly. "I shall see you tomorrow then? Will you be practising tomorrow?"
"I will be, yes. I was given the day off today and needed some time away from the Opera House." Leah turned to face him, leaning against her door.
"I had noticed that you were not around today, where did you go?" He asked.
"Jim took me for a carriage ride outside the city. I really needed the peace and quiet."
Victor frowned slightly. "Jim eh?" He said quietly. Leah raised her eyebrows, silently challenging him to question her association with the stagehand. Though she may have forgiven him, she would not put up with any kind of jealousy from him.
The Tenor saw her look and cleared his throat. "Er yes, that's good that he was able to help you out then."
"Yes it was," she said. "Goodnight Victor." She opened the door and heard him say goodnight quietly before she closed the solid wood in between them.
Leah pressed her back against the door and surveyed the room. Nothing was out of place and nothing had been added to her room. Leah decided it was safe enough for the night. She wearily swapped her clothing for a nightdress and climbed into her uncomfortably wide bed. Pushing away her troublesome thoughts, she fell asleep quickly.
