Hi everybody,
many thanks go to all my readers, especially those that also leave me a review, add the story to favorites and/or put it on alert! I know you are all anxious to learn how the meeting between Erik and aunt Ingrid will go, but you will have to wait for the next chapter - before these two can meet, Christine has some explaining to do. But I promise that the next chapter will be extra-long to make it up to you for the long wait!
And keep in mind that I do not own these characters,...
Chapter 13 – Confessions 1
The next day Christine was restless. Only now that she was going to see her aunt again soon, did she realize how much she had missed her. She could not sit still and went to the railway station about an hour earlier than she had to.
Nervously pacing up and down she waited for the train to arrive. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours to her. Finally the train arrived and Christine smiled when she saw an elderly lady emerge from one of the cars.
"Mamma!" She ran over, quickly grabbed her aunt's heavy suitcase and lifted it down, then hugged her adoptive mother.
"You are here, you are finally here," Christine sobbed, clinging to aunt Ingrid. "I missed you so much!"
"Mitt barn, min flicka," (my child, my girl) mumbled aunt Ingrid, remembering that Christine was known as "Ingrid" here and that she therefore could not call her niece by her given name in public.
Once they both had calmed down, Christine got them a cab and they went first to the bed-and-breakfast, where Christine had booked a room for her aunt. The two ladies quickly unpacked, then Christine suggested to take aunt Ingrid to the Opera house so that she could show her her own accommodations and maybe introduce her to one or two of her co-workers. They could also get a snack at the cafeteria there.
"And we must talk," Christine informed her aunt, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the thought that she had to tell her "mamma" a lot about Erik, before these two could meet later that night.
When Christine and aunt Ingrid arrived at the cafeteria, Anna Lena had just come in after having been released from rehearsals for the day.
"Ingrid!" she exclaimed, when she saw Christine and her aunt arrive. "Is this your mother? You must be so happy to have her here! You must introduce me! My parents will come only on Sunday morning for the opening night, but they will stay till Monday morning!"
Christine made the introductions, translating back and forth between her friend and her adoptive mother.
"There is a family resemblance between the two of you," Anna Lena asked Christine to tell aunt Ingrid. "I guess I would have known you are Ingrid's mother, even if I had met you without her."
Aunt Ingrid was very pleased with Christine's colleague and asked Christine to let Anna Lena know how happy she was to finally meet her "daughter's" colleague and new friend.
"We must go now," Christine finally told Anna Lena, "I want to show min mamma my room and to tell her a bit more about my life here..."
"Of course," Anna Lena understood. "I bet you two have a lot to talk about after having been apart for such a long time!"
Once Christine and aunt Ingrid had reached Christine's little dressing room and Christine had shown her aunt everything, Christine knew that she would now have to tell her mamma about Erik.
"I am glad you liked Anna Lena," she began nervously, "and hopefully you will also like my other coworkers, once you have met them."
"I am sure I will," aunt Ingrid tried to reassure her. It was obvious to her that the child was uncomfortable.
"There are some things I need to tell you," Christine blurted out, summoning all her courage. "About Erik..."
"Your teacher, isn't he? The one who taught you to sing way back in Paris," aunt Ingrid once again tried to calm down her nervous niece.
"Yes," Christine looked down. "You know he... I mean, the scandal in Paris,... the reason why I am not using my birth name here... he..."
"I understand," aunt Ingrid interrupted her. "He was also involved in the scandal and therefore has to hide his true identity here, am I correct?"
Christine nodded. "Yes, but ..." She sighed. How could she possibly tell her aunt that Erik was a wanted man in France?
"So, is Erik not his real name either?" aunt Ingrid inquired. "I can call him whatever he wants to be called, once I meet him." She was more convinced than ever, that Christine cared deeply for that man. But she also had a feeling that there was some really important detail that she was still missing, something that might be potentially bad.
Christine shook her head. "No, he says Erik Planchet is his real name and I believe him. I never knew his name back in Paris, and neither did anybody else there. It's not his name that is connected with the scandal there, the burning of the Opéra Populaire, it's his … looks." The last word came out as barely more than a whisper.
"His looks?" aunt Ingrid was not quite sure she understood the problem. How unique could the man's looks be that he could be identified exclusively by them?
"Yes," Christine looked down. "He wears a mask."
"He wears a mask?" aunt Ingrid repeated surprised. She was not quite sure she understood. "So that he could not be recognized?"
"Yes and no," Christine explained. "I mean, he has always worn a mask, to cover the right side of his face, because he is heavily disfigured. So yes, he is hiding his deformity, but no, he is not wearing it now to conceal his identity. In fact, nobody here knows he is wearing a mask. And nobody can know, for that would give away who he really is."
"But I thought he was interacting with everybody here?" aunt Ingrid asked. "Surely people must have noticed something as unusual as a mask that way?"
Christine shook her head again. "He has a life-like mask that he can wear for very short periods of time that he uses for short meetings on a personal level. But of course he tries to avoid those. This mask is very uncomfortable, but when he wears it, you would have to know what to look for, to notice that it is a mask."
Aunt Ingrid finally began to understand. "In Paris he was known for his mask, so if anybody here found out about it, his cover would probably be blown, is that what you are trying to tell me?"
Christine nodded. "And then he would be in danger," she explained. "Because the fire in Paris, it was him who brought down the chandelier, .."
"He started the fire during the performance?" aunt Ingrid asked, now seriously concerned. What kind of a person was this man that her niece apparently had very strong feelings for?
"Yes, he used it as a diversion to get away, because Raoul had the whole theater swarmed by gendarmes, they were onstage and backstage and everywhere, trying to kill my teacher."
Aunt Ingrid was getting seriously concerned now. Christine had never given her details about the events in Paris two years ago, she had only vaguely told her about her two jealous suitors that had not shied away from violence in order to win her. Apparently things had been worse than she had imagined, one man had seemingly tried to corner the other with gendarmes and the other one had started a fire in order to get away. She regretted not having gone to Paris and taken her niece home immediately after Gustaf's death.
"Why don't you tell me everything from the start," she finally asked Christine. "How you met this Erik, what exactly happened between him, you and this Vicomte."
Christine sighed. She felt like she had already said too much, that she had ruined the chance of her aunt actually liking Erik.
"You must not think that Erik is a bad person," she tried to explain. "I did at one point, but back then I did not know a lot of things about him and his past. Yes, he did terrible things, and I still cannot forget about those, but not everything was quite as bad as I thought, and I may have played a part in putting him over the edge like that."
"Are you telling me that despite everything you would want me to like him?" aunt Ingrid asked slightly alarmed, while watching her niece closely. "He is teaching you again, helping you with this new role, after all."
Christine nodded. "Yes," she confessed. "I think we are friends again, or at least becoming friends again."
"And the reason why you have not told me all of that before is that you wanted to protect him," aunt Ingrid stated. "Because even though your opinion of this man was very low when you arrived at my doorstep two years ago, you still remembered your earlier friendship and tried to protect him."
Christine blushed. Had she been that obvious? It was kind of embarrassing that her aunt had guessed her motivation so easily.
"Now, just tell me everything," aunt Ingrid encouraged her. "And I promise I will keep an open mind and once I meet this gentleman I will give him a fair chance to convince me that he is worthy of your friendship."
Christine nodded, then she began her story. This time she did not leave out anything, she spoke about her father's death, how she had hoped for the Angel of Music, how a voice had comforted her, introducing himself as said Angel, how he had taught her, how he had finally revealed himself, how she had ruined everything between them by taking off his mask, the rivalry between him and Raoul and how things had escalated until the performance of "Don Juan Triumphant" and the final showdown at his lair.
"And when he wanted me to choose between him and Raoul...," Christine blushed furiously. "I... well, I knew I had to convince him... so I... I... kissed..."
"You kissed him," aunt Ingrid nodded, not entirely surprised at this new piece of information. "And then?"
"He let me go. Raoul, too. He knew that he had gone too far and therefore he let us go." Christine explained. Would her aunt be convinced by this act of mercy that Erik was not a bad man despite everything he had done?
Aunt Ingrid sighed. What was she supposed to say or do? From all Christine had told her this Erik-person was not the kind of husband she would have wanted for her niece, not by far, but she also sensed, what Christine obviously still was unwilling to admit to herself, namely that her girl loved that man.
"And he is not like that anymore," Christine continued. "He is not blackmailing anybody anymore, he is now living a more normal life – at least as normal as is possible with his handicap, he has a job that he is good at, he is doing such great things here at the theater. Wait till you see the sets and costumes, he has designed it all, and the quality of all the musicians, orchestra, choir, soloists, dancers as well is so fantastic. You will see on Sunday yourself, when we have our opening night, he is a genius!"
"I will certainly keep that in mind as well," aunt Ingrid promised. "And I will keep an open mind when meeting that gentleman. By the way, how will I be able to meet him, since he is so reclusive in order to avoid people noticing his mask? I guess he won't meet with anybody else's relatives, right?"
"He has agreed to meet you tonight at our regular singing lesson," Christine explained. "And he knows he can wear the more comfortable leather mask when talking with you, since you know about it."
"And, mamma,... ," Christine hesitated.
"What is it, child?" aunt Ingrid asked. She was still trying to fully grasp what her niece had told her. In her opinion, what she had learned so far was bad enough, what else could there possibly be?
"I think, mamma, I am not sure, but do you think it is my fault that Erik... that he lost it so completely two years ago? Do you think it was me who drove him over the edge?"
Aunt Ingrid froze. How could the child possibly blame herself for what this man had done? In her opinion, Christine had been the victim here, and her two suitors were to blame for whatever had happened to the girl.
"Why would you think that?" she therefore asked, deeply worried about her beloved niece.
"Because I ripped his mask off," Christine sobbed. "Imagine, I had basically stripped him of his protective barrier, and from what I know now, he has had an abysmal life because of his face. His mother – she put a mask on his face right after he was born, before she even dressed her baby. She never allowed him near herself unless he was wearing a mask, she never hugged or kissed him, not even when that was his only wish for his birthday. Do you understand what I mean? He probably thought that I could never accept him once I had seen his face, since not even his mother, the person most likely in the world to love him no matter what, had been unable to show him affection. This must have been so traumatic for him. What if this was the final straw that broke him? What if it was me, my curiosity, that brought upon his madness?"
Aunt Ingrid stared at Christine. "His mother – did what?" she asked, in shock. "She forced an innocent child to wear a mask? She could not bear the sight of her own son? She refused to give him the love that every child needs and deserves?"
She was at a loss to understand that woman. She herself had never had children, but she knew without any doubt, that she would have loved any child that she might have had, even if they were not perfect, even if they were severely handicapped, as this Erik seemed to be. No, she would have loved a child not despite an imperfection, but because of it, she would have loved the child even more. A deformed child would need even more love than a normal one, since his or her life would be particularly hard. Such a child needed to be nurtured and protected, to realize that its life had value despite the handicap.
Ingrid Johannsen was beginning to think that maybe this Erik was not quite as guilty as it seemed. After what she had just learned from Christine, the man's mother obviously was mostly to blame for what had happened. A childhood without love would lead to a feeling of being inferior that would often be compensated by violent behavior. She decided to have an open mind when finally meeting her niece's teacher.
But right now Christine was her main concern. The girl seemed stricken, overwhelmed by the realization that maybe she had played a major part in driving her teacher over the edge.
"I can understand why you wanted to see your teacher's face that long ago night," she began, putting a comforting arm around Christine's shaking shoulder. "And in a way, you were right in seeking the truth. You had known this man for many years, not in person, but still. Now he was finally going to tell you more about himself, he showed you his home. It is only natural, that you wanted to know everything, that you wanted honesty. With his mask on, there was still a lot of secrecy between the two of you. Of course you should not have ripped it off without his permission. That was very rude of you. You should have asked him about it."
Christine sobbed. "I know that now," she admitted. "But back then I was so... so thrilled... when I found out that my supposed Angel was actually a man, I did not think clearly, I just wanted to see him..."
"And you had no idea what you were doing to him," aunt Ingrid added. "You could not know about his mother and his loveless childhood. Of course that is not really an excuse for him to lose it, to throw you to the ground and rant at you. It is just an explanation for why he reacted that way. It seems you both did things that day that you should not have done and probably regret now, at least I see that you regret it, as for him, I can only guess. But you are telling me that the two of you are about to rekindle your friendship, so I assume that you have forgiven each other?"
"I... I don't know," Christine admitted. "So much happened two years ago that I cannot forget, and if I am at least in part responsible for that... I am not sure Erik is aware of the pivotal role I played in driving him over the edge, but if he were, … I don't know if he could forgive me either..."
"You must also learn to forgive yourself," aunt Ingrid advised. "What you did, you did not do it with the intention of causing harm. You were just curious. Of course the fact that your teacher had been hesitant for so long to reveal his true identity, pretending to be the Angel of Music, and that even when he finally admitted to you that he was a man, he still wore a mask, could have been a hint that maybe just maybe there was a reason for his secrecy. But I understand that you were young, and overwhelmed by all that had happened, your debut, your reunion with your childhood friend and finally the realization that your Angel was not an angel but a man. I can understand why you would not have been thinking clearly. I am sure your teacher sees things that way now as well. I doubt he blames you for taking away his mask back then."
She smiled at Christine. "I think I am getting anxious to meet this man. When did you say he is expecting you for a singing lesson?"
