Here is a nice long chapter; my Christmas gift to you lovely people who review! I love you Mon Cherie! (I think that's how you spell it...)
I will say the following every chapter, so get used to it…Read and Review!
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"I'm leaving Adrian."
Looking up from the bootlace she was tying, Adrian narrowed her eyes suspiciously. It was five o'clock, and the last day Adrian would be working with Madame Bufont. The early morning sun seemed absent, and the darkness was like that of night.
"What?"
"I'm leaving tomorrow, and won't be coming back till January. I have some business in Provence."
Adrian stood staring at Isobel for several seconds; thoughts whirring like summer crickets. Isobel had never left before! If she had business anywhere, she always took Adrian with her and while she never let Adrian be seen with her, Isobel was never far away. Of all the cruelties in life, Isobel was the constant one, always there to give new rules to follow, punishments if she disobeyed those rules, insults…
But Adrian knew that she owed Isobel her life. No matter how much she hated this vicious taskmaster, she needed her. Isobel was the thorn in her side that drove her to greater effort. When Adrian thought she could run no more, Isobel had urged her with well-articulated threats. If, consumed by exhaustion, Adrian collapsed, a good kick in her side from Isobel set her moving again. When it seemed that the elements would consume her before she could reach shelter, Isobel made her go on till she did. Isobel had put the plan into Adrian's mind that had set them both free. Isobel had guided her hands. Adrian knew she did not dare protest, but losing Isobel for so long…
Adrian nodded slowly, her mouth set into a resolute line. She would manage somehow. If it killed her she would manage.
" Now, you will make enough at your new job to buy food and drink and still have a substantial amount left. When I return, I expect to see no more than I deem necessary gone. Do not disappoint me Adrian. You know the consequences if you do."
Adrian carefully coiled her heavy, long plait at the back of her head. The only outward sign of emotion was the over-forceful manner with which she jammed in the pins.
"As you wish, Isobel."
Isobel smirked. "That's what I thought."
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Manon Bufont was a warm-hearted woman, but did not care to show it. Oscar, her grandson, would not recognize his affectionate grandmother in the slate-eyed manager's executive who ran the Opera house with an iron will. Regardless, over the few days she had known Adrian Cartier, Madame Bufont had grown to care for the girl as a friend. She was soft-spoken, reserved, and extremely competent. The girl's personal life never interfered with her work (which was always done on time) and unlike Georgette, she was sharp as a tack. From talking to her, Madame Bufont had gathered that she was from Marseilles, had heard of a possible position through a friend, her father was a doctor and she grew very defensive when asked questions.
Because of all this, Madame Bufont would miss Adrian quite a lot. Her last day working as Madame Bufont's assistant began like any other: Adrian entered, said good morning, began whatever work that was assigned to her and broke for lunch. But after lunch, Madame Bufont drew Adrian away from her desk.
" I think that you will have the rest of the day off. The woman whom you will be working for is an absolute tyrant. You will need all the rest you can get."
Adrian had nodded slowly.
" Thank you Madame. I will miss working with you and Monsieur Wagner. Good bye." And for a single second, Manon had seen a spark of emotion in her bi-colored eyes; it was something like regret, but mixed with tenderness. As soon as it had arrived it was gone, and Mlle. Cartier had walked out the door, eyes icy as ever.
Manon envied Deborah DeFleurette horribly, and personally thought that Adrian's talents would be wasted as a lady's maid. The new diva was probably a spoiled creature never satisfied with anything at all. A pompous powder puff, all makeup, ribbons and costly jewels. Women like that usually ran their servants ragged with eccentric requests and harsh demands.
Madame Bufont smiled. She had a feeling that Adrian would not be run ragged. If anything, her unnerving silence would drive her mistress to drink. Manon laughed at the thought, and locking the office door, left early, a lightness in her step.
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Adrian kicked the leg of her bed, cursing aloud when the pain came shooting up her foot. More cursing followed, and several birds perched on her window fluttered into the distance in fright. She eventually flopped down on a chair, her face as dark as her mood. It was a relief to be able to vent the anger that she could not show in public.
Mlle. Deborah DeFleurette was the most spoiled, obstinate, childish and spiteful creature she had ever had the displeasure to meet. She refused to do many things for herself, and had Adrian do all the work, which included dressing and undressing, hair styling and mending. In that way, she was a lot like Isobel, but certainly not half as smart. Her room was a riotous pink color with gaudy gold accents. Fat, spoiled cherubs with gilded wings sat plucking their little harps on the ceiling, slightly frightening large eyed kittens with monstrous bows frolicked on the paintings and everywhere there was the smell of lavender. The room itself was enough of an invasion of the senses, but the woman's wardrobe was an insult to good taste. There was so much lace, ribbon, jeweled fringe and fastenings of every kind that it took all of Adrian's skill to undress the woman for bed.
The Mlle. had the plump figure of a Boticelli angel, which would have been pleasing had she not tried to hide with a corset and copious amounts of artfully applied makeup. She had a different offending hat for every dress, and more pairs of ugly shoes that she really needed. She wore her reddish brown hair in ringlets (with bows and feathers, of course), and when fully dressed was an impressive figure, a little like a fat peacock. Her mouth was a bright red bow, drawn in a pout, and she blinked and looked up from underneath her eyelashes a lot. Adrian never thought she could hate someone so passionately and not kill them. Just to give you an idea of what she put up with, here's an outline of her day...
She awoke at five and made her way to the diva's suite to start her job. She was greeted by a tiny, harassed looking woman with a silly little hat almost falling off her head. When the woman spotted Adrian, she indicated that she was to go inside, and after a short pause, whispered, " Are you the new girl?"
Adrian nodded. The woman burst into hysterical peals of laughter and ran down the hall, her hat wobbling dangerously on her complex coif. As you can imagine, this was not a reassuring spectacle.
As Adrian entered the room, she heard a horrible sound that almost pierced her eardrums. The woman was singing. It was a shrill high-pitched sound, something in Italian with a terrible accident.
" You! Girl! Help me get dressed!"
Adrian nearly broke a finger tying up the woman's corset, and almost choked on the amount of powder that flew around the room when the woman made herself up. Powderpuff, the white Persian cat left an inch deep scratch along Adrian's palm when Adrian was asked to "put him in mommy's arms!".
The rest of the day was spent following Mlle. DeFleurette around town carrying her bags while she shopped. It was then that the full extent of the winter's biting cold finally made itself known. Outside, without a coat or gloves, Adrian's hands became almost too numb to move. She desperately wished for some protection, but there was no question of buying any, and she didn't think it would be fair to steal some.
The entire time Adrian was with the idiotic woman, the Mademoiselle kept talking to her in a high-pitched, silly voice.
" Oh, Mlle. Cartier, isn't this pink hat with the swan feathers so darling!"
"What do you think, Mlle. Cartier? The Peacock feathers or the Italian lace?"
The woman's determination to annoy Adrian was maddening as her taste in clothes. By the time lunch was served, Adrian was entertaining fantasies of feeding her employer to a cage-full of starving, rabid rats. The day felt almost endless, but she was finally back in her room, and none too soon.
Adrian ran a finger tentatively over her lips, which had cracked and bled in the cold. She knew that beeswax balm would probably soothe her chapped mouth, but once again, the problem of cost arose. Then a thought came to her: Why not use the food money? She would check in one of the stores on the boulevard , find out the prices of her needed items and calculate for how long she should save.
As long as she didn't spend any more than necessary, Isobel wouldn't get mad. Unless she did. There was always the possibility that even the slightest deviation from Isobel's plans would set her off, and then punishment would come hard and swift.
Adrian stared into the fire and felt its warmth wash over her skin. The memory of the freezing cold still bit into her fingers, making her shiver slightly.
She would take her chances and get those gloves, maybe even the bee's balm. It would be worth it.
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Erik peered through the mirror at the golden-haired girl on the other side. He had never seen her so...emotional. This was completely different from her usual stone slab of a face.
He drew back, his frown slightly puzzled. Why was he so surprised by her cynicism, her coldness? He was exactly like that when he was...nineteen?...twenty? How old was she anyway? She could have been seventeen for her face, but those eyes...
He shook his head sharply to clear it. He never really slept well, but the past week had been a little hectic. It had taken a while for the plans of the Populair's inner workings to surface, the boat had needed completion, but both had been accomplished with more than a little hard work that morning. On looking through the mirror, Erik had been a little disappointed that Isobel had left; he had wanted a good look at the woman who held such power over Adrian.
A good look at the icy Mlle. who was now in his view was just as satisfying. This way, he would have a little window into her life away from other prying eyes.
Stepping back from the mirror, the Phantom rubbed his eyes tiredly. A good night sleep was what he needed. To drift away and deaden himself to the world. He would see the Mlle. in the morning.
Erik let his lips twitch into a smile. For once, tomorrow sounded interesting.
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Sorry for the long wait. Vacation you know. Enjoy!
