Chapter Ten
The next morning Leah woke early. She had actually slept well the night before and felt ready for the day's work ahead of her. Throwing a robe over her shoulders and wincing at the cold floor, she washed up before pulling on her practice tights.
Shivering in the cold air, she tied a sweater on over her outfit and left her room, heading towards the kitchens where she knew it was warm. Leah met Angie on her way down and her friend smiled. "Morning Leah," she said cheerfully.
"Good morning Angeline," she replied.
"How was your day yesterday?" Angie asked slyly and Leah raised her eyebrow at her. "Oh Leah, of course I know. Both you and Jim were excused from work and one of the stable hands saw you getting into a carriage with him."
Leah shrugged and told her about the day before. "So what is the plan for today?" She asked after she had finished.
"We start productions today. This time we are performing The Twelve Dancing Princesses ballet. Once everybody is finished eating, Madame Giry will be telling us our parts."
They stepped through the kitchen doors and Leah sighed as the heat hit her. They sat at the end of a long table and served themselves their meal. Leah wrapped her hands around her hot mug of tea gratefully and tried not to roll her eyes as Angie slipped an extra oatcake onto Leah's plate when she thought Leah was not looking.
Once they were finished, they headed down to the stage, Leah concealing her not-empty plate. Before they reached the large room, however, they heard the angry voice of the Opera's star.
"Is it not early for her to be up already?" Leah asked. "And angry as well? She usually waits until noon before working up a temper like that."
Angie shrugged. "Let's go see."
They snuck onto the stage unnoticeably to see Carlotta yelling at the managers with all the power of her mighty lungs. Leah could not make out any words, just a stream of half-Italian curses.
"What's going on?" Leah whispered to one of the twins.
"Carlotta will not be playing the character she wanted to," she replied. "And like every other time something does not go her way, she's pulling a fit."
"Have they read out the parts yet?" Angie asked, coming up behind them, and the small blonde girl shook her head.
"No, but Carlotta would know her part before anyone else."
Meanwhile, center stage, Carlotta had returned to a recognizable language. "I will not play second fiddle to a usurping little wench!" She was screaming. "I will be given the lead part or I will never set foot in this opera again!"
"Señora," one of the managers said soothingly. "This is a ballet, and in the silent performances, looks mean everything. How would it look if you were to play the youngest princess, when all the rest of the princesses cast are younger than you? Out of all twelve, you are the eldest, it would not appear right if you were the youngest girl and Mademoiselle Bourdeaux the oldest. She is noticeably younger than you, Madame."
Carlotta's face froze at his awkward words and Madame Giry took over, speaking quieter than the loud managers.
"Madame," she said softly. "For just this one ballet, appearances mean everything. And if you were to let Leah keep the role, it will show your dearest fans just how generous and fair you are, and it will make them want to come back to see you again, in the lead role. It will be better for you to let the managers have the ballet the way they wish…" Madame Giry drew Carlotta away from the crowd, speaking into her ear. Carlotta's face had lost the boiling fury and now wore thoughtful, calculating look.
As they passed by, Leah ducked behind Angie, not wanting the Prima Donna to see her and rage out again.
The manager straightened himself out and cleared his throat. "Um, yes, well then. The cast list is as follows…"
He read out the short list of names, Leah obviously the youngest princess, and Victor obviously the gardener that falls in love with her. To Angie's delight, she would be playing one of the princesses as well.
Madame Giry came back to the stage, minus the irritable Soprano. She gathered those playing the princesses and main male parts, and sent the rest to the conductor. They would be dancing the single chorus piece and did not need as much instruction.
The ballet mistress informed them that they would begin learning their parts the next day, today they would go through the measuring process again to start with the costume-making. Once Madame Giry had taken measurements and written them down, she sent the princesses to mend other costumes and the men to some other chore.
The girls walked over to the usual pile of costumes and Leah wondered if so many things were damaged over the course of a performance, or if Madame Giry wrecked them on purpose so the chorus girls were not idle.
Leah and Angie settled against one of the walls, their usual sewing spot, and picked up their very familiar needles and set to work. Out of the corner of her eye, Leah watched Jim working with the other stagehands. He seemed to be in a good mood, laughing and joking with the men, but keeping quiet enough to please the stern conductor. Every so often, Jim would glance Leah's way, but Leah would quickly focus her eyes on her work, and missed his fond gaze.
Somebody plunked down on the stage between Leah and Angie, and she turned to see Victor. "Congratulations, ladies," he said. "I heard what parts you will be playing. Although I must say I am not surprised," he said charmingly and winked at Angie. Angie's face remained blank so Victor turned to Leah.
"Why thank you Victor," she said, scowling a bit at Angie. "I would congratulate you as well, but who else would have gotten the lead role?"
He grinned at her. "And it is my luck," he said, leaning over so that only she could hear him. "That you are to be playing the youngest princess. I will not find it hard to perform the scene where I fall in love with you." He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, before getting up and walking away.
Leah watched him go, frowning a bit, and without thinking about it, wiped the back of her hand on her skirt.
"Leah!" Angie whispered furiously. "What was all that about? I thought you hated him!"
The dancer looked over to the group of stagehands and saw Jim watching the retreating Victor with cold, hard eyes. "I do not hate him," Leah said, turning back to her friend. "He came and apologized to me last night."
"And you believed him?" Angie demanded.
"Yes, I did," she saw the look on Angie's face and continued. "I believe that he is sorry," she said. "But that does not make me stupid. I do not trust him like I once did, and he knows it. So relax, everything is going to be fine."
Later that night, in her big, lonely room, Leah sat at the small vanity, a small framed picture in her hands. She stared at the picture but her eyes were not focused and her mind drifted. She remembered a time when she was still a child, playing ballerina in her mother's room. She remembered the love and admiration she felt for her beautiful mother and the love that was returned to her. If Leah concentrated hard enough she could still smell the stage makeup that the Opera House had stopped using years ago.
A knock at the door interrupted her train of thought and she called out distractedly. "Who is it?"
"It's me," Jim said through the thick wood.
Leah smiled. "Then come in! The door's unlocked."
The door opened and Jim stepped through, closing it behind him. "You really should keep this locked, you know." He said.
"Why?" Leah asked, his words chasing away her remembered feelings of safety.
"He might come back," Jim said, referring to the Phantom and walked towards her.
Leah snorted. "And do you think a locked door will stop him?" She put down the picture and stood up, hearing her joints crack.
"It would make me feel better," Jim said. "Locked doors can keep out many of those who are unwanted."
Leah raised her eyebrow, translating his words easily. 'The lock will keep Victor out,' was what he actually meant. From spending so much time with Jim, Leah knew that when he was angry or upset, it was hard for him to address an issue directly. That and he never said Victor's name if he could help it.
"Yes," she agreed. "But locks can also keep out those who are wanted." She looked up at him and his mouth twisted, trying to hold back a grin. He gave up and chuckled a bit, walking away to seat himself on the small cushioned bench near the bed. Leah sat back down at the vanity, facing him.
"Was he bothering you today?" He asked her, serious again.
Leah shook her head. "No, he is all right. I forgave him yesterday."
Jim raised his eyebrow, his action much more effective than all of Angie's angry words. Leah leaned forward, resting her elbows on her dark brown skirt. She explained what she had to Angie, adding; "I am an actress Jim. I know that it is very difficult, near impossible, to act out the emotion in his eyes yesterday. I believe that he is genuinely sorry."
"Of course he is sorry," Jim said. "He could not get back onto your good side without being sorry first."
"Oh Jim," Leah sighed. "He was my friend for some time, and I have to admit that I missed it. I would like him to be my friend again, but he knows that I do not trust him as I once did."
"That's good," Jim muttered. His tone grew tight, as if he was fighting back anger. "Is that all you and he are interested in? Friendship?"
Leah clenched her teeth together, not wanting to shout. "It is all I am interested in. I do not care if he wants more."
"Hmpf," Jim grunted and Leah stood up and paced over to him. She held back her urge to shake the truth into him.
"Dammit Jim!" She cursed. "I would like to have a couple friends around this place, if that is alright with you," she added sarcastically.
"And what am I?" He asked, his voice low. He remained seated, glaring up at her with his arms crossed.
"I had hoped you were more than just a friend," she said very quietly and turned her back to him. She heard him stand up and she took a few steps away.
Leah put her arms around her chest and hugged her arms, feeling a large weight on her shoulders. She still did not know how Jim felt for her, and the uncertainty was discouraging.
"I hope so too," she thought she heard him say. Without another sound, he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I'm sorry Leah," he said into her hair. "I do not know why I said that. I do not like him and I trust him less."
Leah leaned back against his chest. "Victor will not hurt me again. I will not let him."
"Were there any surprises in your room today?" Jim asked, changing the subject.
Leah shook her head. "Nothing."
"I am going to stop by every night to check your room, if that is alright with you." She nodded and he added, "I want you to lock your door too."
"I would appreciate the company," she said, half-closing her eyes and resting her head against him.
He cradled her for a moment, but moved before she dozed off on her feet. She waited near the door as he went around the room, checking for anything suspicious. It was a small room and there was only the one way in, so it did not take long. Once he was done he nodded to Leah and walked over to her. "Lock the door once I'm gone," he said. "I will come back tomorrow morning to take you down to the kitchens."
"Are you sure that is necessary?" Leah asked him, although she was glad he mentioned it.
"I do not want you to be alone in this building. Not with the Phantom, or whoever he is, wandering around." He rubbed her shoulders and arms gently. "During the day you are surrounded by people, but early morning and late at night, you have to walk this long hallway by yourself. You will not be harmed again Leah, I will not let him."
Him the Phantom or him as in Victor, Leah wondered, before saying a brief goodnight.
Preparations went by very quickly, and before Leah knew it, the day of the ballet had arrived. Leah and the eleven other Princesses waited in one of the wings, all dressed in variations of purple; Carlotta in a soft mauve and Leah in dark violet.
The curtains parted and the audience applauded. The Princesses danced out onto the stage as the music started and the narrator began his song. Leah was last in line and danced more energetically than the rest, revealing her as the youngest. Again she was under the spell of the music. Every night they performed Leah understood why she was doing this. There was nothing like dancing to a wonderful orchestra, all done up in a beautiful costume, make-up and hair. Even rehearsing was nothing like it.
Leah stood off to one side of the stage, pretending to be occupied as Victor the gardener danced. He wandered about the stage as if he was tending to a garden. He stood up and paused dramatically, seeing her standing there. The Princess did not notice him and continued to fiddle with her basket. She started to wander gracefully across the stage, still not noticing the gardener as he followed behind her.
Eventually the Princess left the stage and the gardener whirled around and expressed the joy he felt for seeing the love of his life.
The ballet carried on and the story neared the end. The ballroom piece, set in the castle off the underground lake was wonderful, many couples of dancers all whirling as one. The gardener held the youngest Princess closely as they danced, his love for her was plain for all to see.
The ending came quickly, the last scene finishing with the king looking fondly at his youngest daughter and the handsome gardener. The eleven older Princesses all with a young Prince at their side were surrounding the three in the middle. They froze in a finishing pose and the music's song faded to a stop. The music's end seemed to signal to the audience and they began to applaud.
Leah blinked and her head cleared. The curtain call was over and Leah was waiting for Jim near the right wing of the stage. She barely remembered the last few minutes and she shook her head, rubbing her temples.
A hand took hold of her own and Leah smiled, turning to look into the beautiful blue eyes of the stagehand. But instead of blue, the eyes were hazel. Victor smiled down at her and gripped her hand tightly, rubbing her palm with his fingers. He leaned down to whisper to her when Leah heard a voice from behind her. "Leah?"
She turned, avoiding Victor's too-near face and looked into the eyes she had been looking for. Leah pulled her hand away from Victor's and took a step closer to Jim.
"Ready?" Jim asked her and she nodded. He held out his arm and Leah took it gratefully. With an almost-grin, he nodded to the Tenor and led Leah away. Once they were away from the noise, Jim spoke again. "Would you care to come to dinner with me? If you are not too tired, that is."
Leah smiled and squeezed his arm gently. "I would love to."
He smiled this time and told her, "I'll take you to your room and you can get changed."
"What, you do not want me wearing this?" Leah teased, talking about her very tight violet bodice and wispy sheer skirt.
"As much as I like to see you in something like that, I do not want the other diners to share it with me," he said, making her blush.
They reached her room and Leah hurried inside, while Jim waited just outside her door. She peeled herself out of her tights and quickly scrubbed off her stage makeup. She reapplied more natural looking colours and dressed herself in a long and simple green evening dress. Leah pulled on her rarely used fancy boots and small gloves and clipped her dark cloak over her shoulders. Having no time she simply let her hair down, falling in soft curls after being twisted up in place all day.
She was back out the door less than fifteen minutes after she went in. Jim was already dressed for going out, so they headed towards the main doors without another stop. A carriage was waiting for them outside, a fancy closed-top one and Jim helped her inside, following closely behind.
"Did you hire this carriage?" Leah asked him once they had begun rolling.
Jim nodded.
"You shouldn't have," she said, surprised. "The Opera has carriages for our uses in the stables."
Jim shrugged. "I thought it more appropriate to hire a coach and a driver when accompanying a Lady to dinner."
Leah sighed. "Oh Jim, I am not a Lady and you know it."
Jim simply raised his eyebrows and remained silent. The drive to the restaurant was a short one and Leah took Jim's arm again once they were out of the carriage. The inside of the building was small, the tables as well, none were for more than three or four people. Most diners were couples and from their dress, Leah thought that many of them had just come from the Opera House as well.
Jim led her to a small table near one side of the restaurant. They had barely sat down before a well-dressed waiter, not just a serving girl, came over to the table. Jim ordered them each a glass of wine and the man disappeared.
"Have you ever been here before?" He asked her.
"Of course not," she said quietly. "I have never had enough money to eat in a place like this. How are we going to afford this?"
"That is not something for you to worry about," Jim told her. "Just sit back and enjoy your first dinner out with an admirer of your performances."
Leah smiled and bit back a retort. She sipped at the wine the waiter had brought and looked over the menu in front of her. She had no idea what to eat. In the rare times the chorus girls were allowed to go out into the city for the evening, they went to a tavern that had one choice or at the most, two. There were at least a dozen choices on the thick paper to choose from.
Sensing her discomfort, Jim reached over and plucked the menu from her hands. "Would you mind if I ordered for us? I know what is good around here, and what is not," he said quietly and Leah laughed softly.
"Please do," she said.
The waiter came back shortly and Jim ordered dinner for the two of them. They chatted about nothing in particular while waiting for their food, Leah was becoming entranced by the atmosphere around them. There was a man near the fireplace playing softly on a violin, candles at every table instead of lanterns on the walls. The heat in the room was high and making Leah drowsy, adding to her enchanted state. She stared into Jim's blue eyes, darkened to a near violet in the candlelight. Jim stared back at her intently and she felt her heart fluttering. Her mouth went dry and she sipped at her wine again, needing an excuse to shift her gaze.
Their food arrived shortly and Leah was delighted to see that Jim had ordered them each the chicken plate which had half a baked potato and a scoop of pasta in a creamy sauce along with the lightly herbed chicken breast. The dancers were not allowed things like pasta or much white bread, Madame Giry had them eating mostly stringy beef and pork and lots of vegetables.
Leah looked up at Jim, who was grinning at her face. "You are bad," she said mischievously. "Madame Giry will not be happy with me."
"I will not tell her if you do not," he said, matching her tone.
The food was wonderful, Leah ate quickly, she had been too nervous to eat most of the day and her stomach was reminding her that it was still there. It seemed that as soon as they were finished, the waiter came back, this time holding two small plates, each holding a fat slice of what looked like cherry pie. And surprisingly enough, Leah ate every bite of it.
Once they were finished they sat at their small table, sipping tea and relaxing in a state of comfortable fullness. The number of diners had gradually lowered until there were only four other people in the restaurant other than Leah and Jim. With their absence the room was quieter and a little dimmer, more private.
Jim got up and strolled over to the discreet bar, and the rather large man behind it. Leah could not hear what they were saying, but she saw Jim drop a number of coins into the man's upturned palm. They spoke amicably for a few minutes and Leah's attention wavered. She felt her eyes wanting to close and blinked hard, sitting up straighter to try and keep herself awake.
Leah drained her tea and heard footsteps signalling Jim's return. He was holding their cloaks and as Leah stood, he placed hers over her shoulders and fastened the clasp. "Ready to go?" He asked, while putting on his own thick cloak. Leah nodded and they headed towards the door.
"Come back again soon Jim!" The barman, the owner of the restaurant, called out. And winking to Leah, he added, "And feel free to bring any of your girlfriends along too!"
"Er, thank you Paul," Jim said quickly and they hurried out the door. He ushered her into the carriage and Leah noticed that it was snowing lightly outside. The driver clucked to the horses and they pulled the carriage in the direction of the Opera House.
Leah frowned in the dim carriage, and wanting to ask Jim about his other girlfriends he brought to dinner. But she forced herself to say "Thank you for dinner Jim," softly instead.
"You're welcome, my dear," he said, just as softly.
Leah spent the trip almost aching to question Jim, to interrogate him about what the man meant by 'any of your girlfriends'. But she clenched her teeth, reminding herself that Jim did not belong to her, she was not sure what she was to him. While he was much more than a friend, she was not sure what that made him. Sometimes he acted like she was just a friend or acquaintance, and sometimes he was so close to her that he was more like a beau or even husband. So Leah could do nothing but put a clamp on her jealousy, and not ruin the night by giving it voice.
They arrived at her home and Leah climbed out of the carriage, not wanting to wait for Jim to assist her. Once they were free of it, Jim tossed the driver a small bag and the man drove away. Leah climbed a few of the steps leading to the door and looked back to Jim so that now she was the same height.
"You do not have to worry about escorting me to my room tonight," Leah told him.
"Leah," Jim started and she cut him off.
"No, Jim. I will not have you walking all the way to my room and back out here. There is no need, I will be fine." She smiled, trying to reassure him. "Please, Jim, do not worry. I will see you tomorrow morning?"
Jim sighed. "All right then, if that is what you wish. Be careful," he said. Jim leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Leah almost shouted in exasperation that is he wanted to kiss her, to just go for it and do it where it counts, but again, she kept her mouth closed.
"Until tomorrow Leah," he said.
"Goodnight Jim," she replied and turned, climbing the rest of the steps.
The Opera was dark and eerie at night. Only one out of five candles were lit and some of those were out from the breeze that drifted through the halls. Leah stuck to the better lit areas, unreasonable fear beating at the back of her mind. Behind her, the main door slammed shut again, signalling somebody's leave, or return. The noise echoed through the hallways and the resulting breeze blew out the candle that Leah was presently standing under. She all but ran back to her room, the long shadows and regular night noises chasing her heels.
Her hand shook as she got out her key and fumbled it into the lock. Pushing herself into her room, she quickly turned and locked her door behind her. Feeling the safety of her room, her fear slowly dissipated and she loosened up enough to pull her cloak off and hang it up in her closet. She had left candles lit and the heat soaked into her fear-chilled skin.
Leah pulled off her gloves and walked over to the vanity, wanting to drop them there before going to wash her face. She looked down and her breath caught in her throat, gloves forgotten. There was a small card lying on top of the table, the off-white colour bright against the darker wood.
Leah picked it up in trembling hands, the spiky ink on the front spelling out her name. Taking a deep breath, she turned the card over.
'You danced beautifully tonight, my sweet,' it read. 'Though I am sorry I missed seeing you once the performance was over. Where ever did you run off to?
'I admit that I am envious, my sweet, as I have the feeling that I am not first in line for your affections. Though I dream of the day when I can finally kiss your beautiful lips. I imagine that you taste like cherries.'
"Oh God," Leah whispered, nearly dropping the card. He was there, he had seen her, but where? She had not seen him anywhere, and the restaurant was too small for her to not have noticed him there. Bracing herself, she read the rest.
'I am a jealous man, my dove, and I will not put up with another man taking what is mine. You will send away this stagehand of yours, and the Tenor that follows you with his eyes. If you continue to see them, I will be forced to cut their throats while they sleep. And it will be your fault. But do not fret, I will be seeing you soon. Meanwhile, I wish you roses for dreams. –B.'
This time Leah did drop the card, noticing for the first time, the vase of roses on the smaller table next to the vanity. They were blood red, so deep they were almost black. There was something stuck in the middle of the bouquet, something pale. She took a wobbly step towards it, then ran to the bathroom, spilling the contents of her stomach into the chamber pot.
Stuck in the middle of the tightly tied dozen roses was a human finger, still dripping blood onto the surrounding red flowers.
