Chapter 9- The Phantom Of The Opera
Christine woke up a few hours later. It took her a while to remember where she was, or the events that had happened the previous day.
I'm in the Phantoms lair. I'm here because of that cat. What was it called?...Porsche! Yes that's right, and… and… It took her a while to remember why she was so exhausted. I had a swordfight with him! And won!
This last thought made her spirits lift slightly. She studied the room she was in. The last time she was in here she had not taken time to look around it properly.
She was lying on a bed which seemed to be in the shape of a silver Swan. In one corner was a mirror, much like the one that was in her room. In another corner was a dressing table, though this one was slightly bigger than the one that was in her room.
She got up, noticing the carpet she was standing on. From what she remembered, hardly any of this place had carpets, just solid stone floors. She walked over to the door, turned the handle, then remembered that it was locked.
"Hey! Let me out." She waited a while for the door to open, yet much to her annoyance it did not, then she heard a voice sound from the other side of the door.
"Try again, and be a bit more polite." How could this man be so annoying? Though she was at his mercy and so she thought that she better play along.
"Can you please let me out of here Erik?" With that, she heard the turn of the key and the click of the locking mechanism. Not wanting to hang about, she opened the door very quickly, slamming straight into Erik. He seemed to be expecting this however, as he put his hand up to stop himself from getting hit in the face.
"In a rush are you?" He said sarcastically. Christine noticed his pale blue eyes looking straight into hers. Now that she took a closer look, if it were not for the hideous mask that he wore on the right side of his face, he would have been quite handsome. "You must be hungry." He said, leading her into the kitchen and sitting her down at the table where only hours ago, she had hidden. "Here you are." He placed a plate of food in front of her, which she looked at curiously.
"Why are you doing this?" She did not like the idea of eating food that was offered to her by 'The Phantom'. She could just hear what Meg's voice would be like if she ever found out.
'YOU DID WHAT? Christine that was really stupid. How do we know that it wasn't poisoned, and not one of those quick poisons, I mean a slow acting poison?'
As if Erik had read her mind, he quickly said to her. "That food's not poisoned you know…"
"And how can I trust you?" She snapped at him. He looked rather taken aback as he thought up the best way to answer this.
"If I wanted to kill you or injure you, don't you think I would have done it by now?" He said this as though he was rather hurt by her words.
"Well…"
"Why would I go through all of the trouble to teach you to sing if I was just going to kill you afterwards?"
"I suppose… but."
"There are no buts." He said sharply. "I teach you how to effectively use your voice, and how do you repay me?" He said, now looking deeply upset. "You attack me as though I am a monster."
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…"
"Well if you didn't mean to hurt me then what were you intending to achieve by attacking me?"
Christine did not answer this. For once she was lost for words completely and she felt… guilty. So, to try and make up for this, she started to eat the food that she had been given. It tasted superb. Better than she had back up at the Opera House.
"This is really…" She swallowed, noticing she was talking with half a mouthful. "Tasty!"
Erik smiled at this, not one of his menacing smiles or one of his intimidating smiles like he used during the swordfight, more like… a proud smile.
"Thank you, I'm glad you like it." He went over to the counter and took another plate of food for himself. "I need lots of energy after fighting with you." He said with a cheeky grin.
How are you managing to have a civil conversation with this man? It's almost as though he's polite and caring.
"So… your father taught you to fight?" He said, almost nervously, though Christine could not figure out why he would be nervous.
"When I was very young, he thought it best that I knew a bit of self defence, I suppose that he was right." Erik gave another one of his cheeky grins.
"Beaten by a woman, but then again, I did go easy on you." Christine looked up at him and then registered what he had said.
"So I'm not a child anymore then?" She said with a devilish grin to rival his. "That's what you said isn't it… 'You're not a woman yet child'" She put particular emphasis on the last word.
"I…" He started, then realised that Christine was laughing.
Well how about that, I made her laugh.
"You better be careful or I might demand a rematch." He said, a note of menace in his voice, but Christine continued to laugh.
"You want me to beat you again?" She said, teasingly. "I didn't think that Phantoms were in to being humiliated by children." This triggered something in her mind.
"I'm really sorry for not telling you that I'm, well, 'The Phantom of the Opera', as you all call me. It's just that I didn't know how you would react, and after what happened a few hours ago…" He trailed off to let her take in what he had said. "Well, let's just say I hope you can see my reason."
Christine had just finished her food. Erik handed her a napkin, and indicated that she had something on her upper lip.
"I'm sorry that I attacked you, I just…" She could not think of any word to describe how she felt at the time.
"Panicked?" He said in a monotone.
"Amongst other things." She said with a nervous chuckle. She handed him her plate, which he put down on the floor. Porsche the cat strode over to it and started licking it.
"Don't worry. She does get a proper meal." He said, reading the look on Christine's face correctly. "She just enjoys the leftovers. To be honest I'm surprised she did not leap onto the table and start eating your food. She must like you." He put his plate down on the floor next to Porsche, who started licking it immediately.
"That is one clever cat." Said Christine, remembering how she had managed to open up the passageway down to this place, and how she managed to get into rooms that seemed to be locked.
"She managed to find her way down here when she was only a kitten. Not the way that you came down here of course, she wouldn't have been able to make it across the lake." He stopped, watching Christine stare at Porsche. "She was the first living thing that did not run in fear of me, and we have kept each other company ever since."
Christine felt a surge of guilt at these words. Looking back at Erik, she asked the question that she had been dying to ask ever since she saw his face.
"Why do you wear that mask?" He did not move, or speak. He seemed stumped by the question, and Christine could tell that he was hunting for another topic.
"She can do all sorts of things you know, very faithful, my eyes and ears of the Opera House." She could tell that there was no reason to pursue the subject, though she had a fairly good idea why.
It would not be a good idea to annoy him now. Just drop it!
"Where did you first learn to sing, Christine?" He seemed interested by this.
"An old chorus girl taught me, she's left now, but she had a beautiful singing voice, so I asked her to teach me…" She looked over at Erik, who was intrigued by this. "And she did." She finished, rather lamely.
"She only taught you how to control the pitch of your voice. Am I right?" Christine nodded. "Did she not have time to teach you breathing techniques?"
"I guess not, she left soon after we started lessons, then I taught myself with what I had learned." She looked back over at Porsche, who went over to Christine's feet, sat down, then sprang up onto her lap.
"You have a beautiful singing voice, much better than that toad Carlotta." Christine laughed when Erik had called Carlotta a toad.
Wow, I made her laugh again.
"So you want a rematch?" Christine asked. "I'll make sure that you get one at some point, if you want to lose that badly."
"By that time I will have a few more tricks up my sleeve, with which to beat you." He gave yet another one of his cheeky grins.
"How did you do that…thing, when we were fighting?" She asked. She hadn't given it much of a thought since the fight.
"A magician never reveals his secrets." He said slyly. Readjusting his mask as he spoke.
There was a long silence. Christine started stroking Porsche. Erik however was lost deep in thought, knowing that one thing must happen sooner or later.
I've got to take her back soon. She can't stay here or they might give Madame toad the part of the countess.
"You still look tired." He said, plainly. "Why not go and rest for an hour or so, then I'll take you back to your room. You can have your lesson tomorrow".
Christine did not object to this, so she followed Erik back to the guest room, Porsche held in her arms, meowing every so often. Christine stepped inside, and Erik closed the door behind her. She was relieved to hear that he did not lock it this time. She walked over to the bed, though she had no intention of sleeping, too many things were on her mind to leave room for sleep.
"Hmmmm, maybe C# minor would work…" She heard Erik thinking aloud on the opposite side of the wall, then she heard a very violent tune being played on the piano, in what she assumed was C# minor, it ceased after about 10 seconds. "No no no, definitely not, maybe D minor…" The same tune struck up again, only slightly higher than the previous time. "Still too low…" He played it again, higher still. "F minor!"
From what Christine could tell, he was composing something on the piano, and he had just made some progress. It was unlike any music Christine had ever heard. It was full of both anger and love. She pressed her ear against the wall so that she could hear what was being played more clearly.
"Lyrics…lyrics." There was a long silence, and the scratching of a quill on parchment. It seemed like slow progress. He would write something, and then by the sounds of it, cross it out almost immediately afterwards. The occasional comment like, "That makes it sound like he's going to hang her." Or. "Now it sounds like they are playing the bassoon…" Christine laughed. She did not know that he was so precise about things.
Christine lay down on her bed, listening to his comments and occasional curses, she felt drowsy, and, hearing one last. "God! Now it sounds as though they are fighting." She fell asleep.
Firmin was still talking with Madame Giry. "Still no sign of her?" He asked, quite hysterical, they were in the middle of a rehearsal for Il Muto. Carlotta had decided to turn up, dressed in her page boy costume.
"No Monsieur, we have checked everywhere, but still no sign." She said, trying to keep her voice calm.
If you ask me I think it is the luck that she brought on herself when she found that cat!
"Maybe you should consider re-casting?" Chirped in Carlotta. Clearly loving the panic that had struck the managers. "I know the songs very well, and can sing them much better than little Miss Daae."
André burst out laughing, which he just about managed to disguise as a hacking cough before Carlotta noticed him. "Well, if she does not return then we will use you…" He turned to Firmin and muttered. " As a last resort."
"What was that? Last resort?" She cried.
Firmin muttered to André. "Ears like a bloody bat!"
With that comment, Carlotta walked over to the two of them, fan at the ready, and started hitting André sharply over the head with it.
"That's for saying I'm the last resort." She hit him once with every word she spoke.
"Ok ok, since Miss Daae is not here at the moment, La Carlotta can take over." Said Reyer.
Carlotta, who had been busy hitting Firmin saying. "That's for calling me a bat!" Stopped at once, looking over at Reyer with a big smile. "Oh that's good, good good good."
Madame Giry seemed prepared for this scenario. She pulled a couple of cotton buds out of her pocket and stuffed them tightly in her ears.
"You don't have any more of them do you." Muttered Firmin. Madame Giry had to lip-read him, she shook her head. "Oh damn!"
"…Re-turn" The sound of a quill on parchment stopped, and Christine awoke. "That's the best I'm going to get it for now.
She got up, noticing that Porsche was scratching at the door trying to get out. Christine walked over to the door and opened it for her. Porsche went into the kitchen and started to drink the bowl of milk on the floor. Christine went to the music room. It took her a little while to find it, as the lair was quite big. She heard Erik's voice coming from a room to her left however.
"Decided…" There was a big piano solo after this, it sounded like it should have had words to it, but it sounded pretty good on its own none the less.
Erik paused for a moment. Something seemed to be irritating him. He put his hands up to his face and lifted off his mask. Apparently he had to scratch the right side of his face. When he resumed playing however, he decided to leave it off, deciding it would be more comfortable.
"Hmmmm, strings for this bit I think. Piano would sound to plain on its own… but what instrument?" He got up and strode over to the other side of the room, Christine took the opportunity to go and have a look at the music he was writing.
Don Juan…?
"Violin or viola…or Cello… or all three?" He said to himself.
Point of…
There was a click of an instruments case being shut, the clatter of it being put back into place, and Erik turned round to face Christine, no mask on his face…
