Chapter Eleven

The Opera House performed the ballet again the next night, and if the dancer playing the youngest Princess was dreadfully pale underneath her makeup, it must be due to nervousness. She danced as well as she had the night before, though her face and eyes did not seem to match the joyful, loving steps of her body. But the audience was too far away to see her expression properly and did not think anything was amiss. Those who did were not in any position to ask her about it.

Angie noticed, but she was dancing on the stage as well, and could not ruin the performance. Though she wanted to, for she did not like the look in Leah's eyes at all. Victor noticed, but was also dancing. And of course, Jim noticed, but he was in the audience and was also helpless to do anything about it.

The ballet ended and the guests threw flowers onto the stage along with their happy shouts of congratulations. Leah flinched away from the flowers and left the stage as soon as courtesy permitted. Before she could escape though, Angie caught up with her.

"Leah, are you okay?" She asked, worried. "You look terrible."

Leah opened her mouth to speak, but seeing both Victor and Jim aiming towards her, she shook her head. "Come with me Angie?" She whispered desperately.

Angie nodded and Leah took her arm, dragging her away quickly before either man could reach her. They left the stage area quickly, jogging to put distance between them and anybody else.

"Are we going to your room?" Angie panted behind her.

"No, we are going to our room," Leah replied.

Shortly they arrived in their small attic room and huddled next to the chimney, the attic grew cold in the winter, and they were still in their dancing costumes. Angie bit her lip, watching Leah's hands shake as she held them close to their source of heat. She examined her friend, seeing dark circles under her shiny glazed eyes, as if she had not slept the night before. Leah was skinnier than Angie had ever seen before, and Angie's concern grew.

"Leah, please talk to me," Angie pleaded.

Leah swallowed and looked up into Angie's face. The darker haired dancer winced at the haunted look in their brown depths. "Oh Angie," she said, her face crumpling and she began to cry.

Angie gathered her younger friend to her chest and rocked her, making soothing noises. She let her cry into her shoulder until her sobs stopped and her tears ran dry.

Some time later Leah straightened and finding an old shirt resting on one of the crates, wiped her smeared make up off her face. Angie was watching her expectantly and Leah began to talk.

"You remember that story you told me some time ago?" Leah asked. "About the Phantom?"

"Of course," Angie said.

"I believe you now," Leah said slowly. "Except for the part where Barton killed himself. I know that is not true."

"What? How do you know that?"

"I have met him," Leah said quietly. "And he is very much alive." She went on to explain their first meeting and her journey into the deep basements of the Opera House. She also told her about the many notes and 'gifts' the Phantom had left in her rooms. At that point Angie had gasped and turned an odd shade of green.

"Leah!" Angie said once she had finished. "You have to tell Madame Giry! She will let you move back into the dormitory."

Leah shook her head. "It was Madame Giry who took me to him in the first place. I cannot tell her, she will tell him."

"Then tell the managers at least!"

"You know that they will not believe me," Leah said, rubbing her arms to warm them. "They have heard too many ghost stories in this place to believe what I would say."

"Then what are you going to do?" Angie asked.

"I do not know," Leah whispered. "Will you come to my room tonight?" She asked, even quieter. "To check and make sure nothing is there?" Her voice was that of a small child's and Angie wanted to weep at the sound of it.

She managed to choke back her tears. "Of course," she said. "I will take you now."

It was late, and the ballet-goers were long gone by now. The Opera was quiet, but not dark yet, and Angie was thankful for that. She followed Leah to the dancer's small, far away room and opened it with the key Leah handed her. Leah remained by the doorway as Angie went through the room, looking for anything from the man they called the Phantom.

There was nothing that Angie could see and she returned to her friend, huddled against the door frame. "Nothing," she said and Leah nodded.

"He does not usually leave things two nights in a row," she said quietly and Angie frowned.

"How often does he leave things in your room?" She asked.

"Every couple of days since the night of the play," Leah reluctantly admitted.

"Oh dear," Angie said. "We will think of something, do not worry. Maybe we can make up a reason for you to change rooms, or even to come back to the dormitory. Will you be okay here tonight?"

Leah nodded, though she did not feel it. There was nothing she could do and she did not want Angie to worry more than she already was. They said goodnight and Leah closed and locked the door.

She changed into a warm nightgown and crawled into her bed, burrowing under the thick covers so that nothing of her body was showing. Eventually she fell asleep, only to wake every few hours to imagined noises.


The next morning, the residents of Paris woke to a raging blizzard, signalling the beginning of December. Temperatures dropped substantially and already there was a thick layer of snow on the ground. The strong winds rattled windows and found every crack to blow into buildings, sending people to huddle around their fireplaces.

The managers of the Opera House ordered that no performer was allowed to leave the building unless incredibly important, they did not want anybody getting sick and having to miss out on dancing in the next ballet.

Leah woke early and left her room quickly, the one small window near her bed let in terrible drafts and the sharp iciness of it drove her from her bed.

Again, strangely, Carlotta was up early and pacing the hallways like a caged animal. Though she rarely left the Opera during the winter as she hated the cold, she hated being ordered around even more. Being told she could not go outside, even though she did not want to was more than enough to put her in a bad mood.

Leah had the bad luck to leave her room at the same time Carlotta chose that hallway to storm down. Leah wished she could retreat back into her room, but knew that was out of the question, as the Soprano had already seen her.

"Chorus girl!" She yelled, stomping up to the younger girl, her strong voice echoing through the walls.

"Yes Madame?" Leah asked in a properly respectful voice.

"The servants are busy. Go clean my room," she said, her expression daring her to protest.

"Yes Madame," Leah said, swallowing a sigh.

Carlotta frowned, as if she was disappointed the dancer did not put up a fight. "You better have it spotless by tonight. And if you steal anything…" she did not finish, leaving the threat open-ended.

"Yes Madame," Leah said and followed the hallway a long ways to the bigger, more elaborate dressing rooms. She had never been in the Soprano's room before, but she knew where it was. Every chorus girl learned quickly which room was Carlotta's so that they could stay away from it.

Leah did not want to spend the day cleaning the awful woman's room, but it was probably for the best, she decided. This way she could keep out of the way, and neither Jim nor Victor would find her there. She could not afford to let them find her.

She opened the door and her jaw fell. The room was a mess. It looked like the blizzard outside had somehow found its way inside and wrecked everything that could be wrecked. Tables were knocked over, vases overturned and their flowers everywhere, water soaking into the hardwood floor. Clothing was flung everywhere, the bed sheets were torn off the bed and in a pile on the ground. Pictures and portraits were ripped from the walls, the fixtures ripped out.

Leah sighed, resigning herself to her fate and set to work. She stepped further into the room and turned around in a circle, gauging the damage. She wondered where to begin.


A very long time later, the Prima Donna swept into the room. The unbroken vases were set upon righted tables and their contents were thrown out. Leah had moved the numerous rugs around so that the water damage was hidden from view. The pictures were lined up against the wall, she had not yet fixed their backings. At the moment, Leah was seated on the floor, sewing a ripped garment back together.

"What?" The Soprano shouted, faking disbelief. "You are not done yet?"

Leah looked up at her and did not say anything.

"Well you are just going to have to come back tomorrow and finish. Now go away," she ordered. "I am tired. I want to go to bed."

Leah stood, a wave of dizziness washing over her. She set the piece of clothing and the needle on the table near the closet and giving the Soprano a small curtsey, left the room quickly. She hurried back to her own room, and without even pausing to change, crawled into her bed and was asleep moments after her head hit the pillow.

The next morning she woke early and hurried down to the kitchens after changing her slept-in uniform for a clean one. She ate a small breakfast quickly and drained a mug of tea before leaving again, this time for Carlotta's room.

She met the Soprano on her way there, and the woman gave her an evil grin that made Leah's insides go cold. Leah stopped by the maids' closet, gathering cleaning supplies.

She opened the door to Carlotta's room and immediately wanted to cry. The room was torn apart. Again. The only thing different from yesterday morning, was there were no flowers anywhere.

Leah bit her lip against her growing anger and began to work as fast as she could, cursing the woman in her mind as she did.

She finished before midnight this time, and wearily left the room, spotless as ordered, before the Soprano could return. She returned her supplies to the closet and made it back to her room, too tired to really notice where she was going. Her hands and fingers were aching from scrubbing and sewing and her back was throbbing.

Leah stumbled into her room and belatedly noticed that she had forgotten to lock it this morning. This was made much more obvious when she saw Angie sitting at the vanity, waiting for her. Angie stood, and picked up a covered basket from the table.

"Hi," she said, holding it out to her. "I brought you some supper."

"Oh, thank you," Leah said, feeling her stomach growl at the sight of it. She pulled another chair over to the table and Angie pulled out a covered plate, along with a mug and a sealed flask. Leah pounced on her dinner hungrily, barely noticing what she was eating.

"Just so you know, Madame Giry knew where you were the last couple of days, so you do not need to worry about missing anything. Carlotta was gloating all day and when you did not show up in the kitchens, or anywhere else for that matter, Madame knew where you were."

Angie poured the liquid into the mug and set it beside her plate. Leah took it and drank almost half of it before noticing it was not tea. She coughed and sputtered and a delightful warmth settled into her stomach. She looked down at the strong wine and back up to her friend, raising her eyebrow questioningly.

"You are going to sleep well tonight," Angie declared, before giving her a small smile and walking into the bathing chamber. Leah heard water falling and smiled herself, content to know that Angie was always around to take care of her and make her eat.

Leah finished her meal quickly and carrying her mug of wine with her, went into the smaller room. It was more luxurious than she was used to, though someone like Carlotta would call it too small and bare. There was a chamber pot in one corner, a large mirror with a counter under it along one wall, holding a water basin and pitcher and other small items. In the middle of the room was the large tub, big enough that Leah could sit in it and have the water come up to her neck if she wished.

Steam was rising from the tub, the water splashing into it from two pipes that came from the ceiling, and the reservoir in the upper level. While Angie was puttering around, Leah set down her mug and returned to her room. She changed behind her screen and put on a fluffy robe. She found the length of material she used to dry herself off with and leisurely made her way back into the bathing chamber.

The room was a lot warmer than it had been and Leah closed her eyes, enjoying the heat. Angie shut off the water and grinned at the relaxed look on Leah's face. "There, it is ready," she said. A faint smell of oranges came from the water and Leah recognized Angie's favourite bath oil.

"Again, thank you Angie," Leah replied. "I appreciate it. I really do."

"Leah you have taken care of me more times than I can count. Remember how often I was sick all last year? It is my turn now."

Leah smiled and set her towel down. She noticed her cup was full again and took a sip.

"Is there anything else you want me to do?" Angie asked, returning the dishes and the now empty flask to the basket.

Leah followed Angie into the main room, shaking her head slowly. "Oh, wait," she said, remembering something. "If you see Jim or Victor, can you tell them to keep away from me?" She asked quietly. She had already told Angie about the Phantom's latest note.

"Of course," Angie said, and then she grinned all of a sudden. "That is pretty strong wine I gave you. I'll come and wake you up tomorrow before breakfast."

Leah's mouth twisted, and she silently agreed, already feeling the effects of the amount she had drunk.

"Go soak before it gets cold," Angie said. "I will lock the door on my way out. Good night Leah."

"Night Angie," Leah said, and withdrew into the smaller room, not seeing Angie leave, or the crumpled off-white card in her fist.


Leah soaked in the scented water until she felt every one of her aches slowly fade away to nothing. She finished her wine and her head was now pleasantly drifting and her limbs were heavy.

The water began to cool and Leah reluctantly pulled herself out of it, drying herself off before pulling the plug and letting the tub drain. Wrapping her robe around her, she wobbled into her bedroom and clumsily pulled a nightgown over her head.

Her bed was a lot more comfortable than the night before and Leah fell asleep quickly, barely having enough time to pull the blankets over herself.

The next morning came too soon, knocking on her door roused Leah out of a deep sleep.

"Wake up Leah," Angie's voice was muffled through the door. "It is getting late."

Leah stumbled out of bed, wincing at the cold floor. She turned the lock and let Angie inside.

"You look better," Angie commented.

"Good morning to you too," Leah said. "And I feel better." She splashed water onto her face, while Angie looked around discreetly for any notes or otherwise. She was back by the door when Leah came back into the room, and looked like she had not even moved.

"What are we doing today?" Leah asked as she changed.

"Just a general practice, but on the stage, the smaller rooms are all being cleaned today." Angie remained in place, but swept her eyes over the room, still seeing nothing. She sighed in relief and smiled when Leah emerged from behind the screen. "Ready?" She asked.

Leah nodded and they left, remembering to lock the door behind her this time. The hallways were chilly, outside the blizzard was still lively, though not as fierce as the day before. They hurried into the kitchens where they knew it was warm.

They ate quickly and followed the other chorus girls to the stage, where Madame Giry was waiting. Leah was happy to see that Carlotta was nowhere in sight, and neither was Jim or Victor. Now all she had to do was stay out of Madame Giry's way, and everyone would be safe. She thought of the favour she had asked Angie the night before and suppressed a grimace. She did not want to avoid her friends, especially not Jim, but if doing so would keep them safe, then there was only one choice.

The ballet mistress lined them up and they began moving through their practice steps to the rapping beat of her stick, used just for that purpose. That and to smack knees and elbows that are not in place.

Once they had warmed up enough to discard their leg warmers and sweaters, Madame Giry moved them on to more difficult and precise exercises.

They trained for most of the morning, Leah's mind was blissfully blank as she blocked out everything but the way her body was moving and the beating staff.

Eventually Madame Giry called for a break and the girls mostly collapsed where they were standing, Leah and Angie among them. The hall had filled up while they had been practicing and Leah was dismayed to see a group of stagehands near the back of the room, and Victor and Carlotta on the other side of the stage, chatting.

Leah inched over to Angie. "Is it time for lunch yet?" She hissed. "Can we leave?"

Angie rolled over onto her side. "I do not think so, Madame has not said anything yet."

Leah turned to look for the ballet mistress and found her staring directly at the young dancer, with a look of mixed regret and sadness. Leah looked away quickly, not wanting to speak to her at the moment.

Leah rolled onto her back and pushed herself into a sitting position. She got to her feet and, wincing slightly, went off to their side of the stage, looking for a towel. She found one and scrubbed her face with it. She draped it around her neck and turned around.

Jim was standing right in front of her.

"Jim!" Leah said, grabbing a hand to her chest. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Leah why are you avoiding me?" He asked bluntly.

Leah took a step back. "Did Angie speak with you?"

"Er yes, sort of, but-" he started and she cut him off.

"Then you should stay away from me," Leah said, almost angrily. "You know what will happen if you do not keep away."

"Leah," Jim said, but broke off as saw her face.

Leah was looking around wildly, as if the Phantom might be standing right on the stage itself. "I cannot be seen with you!" She shouted, scared now. "Get away from me!" Leah's eyes locked onto Victor and Carlotta, who were both staring at her from across the stage.

Jim followed her gaze and narrowed his eyes. "Oh," he said, very quietly. "I see." He took a deep breath, clenching his teeth together. "Fine. If that is how you want it, then fine." He turned around sharply and walked away.

"Jim," Leah reached out to him and then caught herself. She pulled her hands in so that they were clasped together over her stomach and painfully watched Jim walking further and further away from her. Leah closed her eyes, not wanting to see those that were staring at her. She had looked up once before closing off her vision and saw Carlotta's smug gaze, and Victor's confused one.

Leah felt a hand reach out and touch her shoulder and Leah opened her eyes to Angie's blue ones. "Are you okay?"

Leah shook her head, "It's for the best," she said. "It has to be."