Carillon: wait and see)
the Mouse in the Opera House: comme vous voulez:)). You give me impetus to write faster!
Araiona Dubois: here's the next chapter)
moonlit-leaf: I hope this one will keep your atention as well. Nice nick, by the way:)
On with the story!
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'My dear,' Mme Giry started soothingly. 'You need rest. He wouldn't want you to be in such a terrible state.'
'Does it matter now?' Christine replied bitterly.'I did many things he didn't want me to do. And many mistakes. He didn't want me to be with Raoul - but I was going to marry him. He didn't want me to stop singing - but I haven't sung for almost three months now.' She felt her despair turning into impotent rage at herself - for being such a fool, for being so heartless and selfish when her Angel needed her. He was no angel...
'What was his name?'
'Erik.'
'Erik..' she whispered.
Antoinette Giry's heart was breaking as she watched her adopted daughter. A young girl shouldn't have such dark shadows under her eyes and such expression of despair on her face... She shouldn't sit here on the sofa in her little room and press her fingers to her temples, and bite her lips.
'Erik, she thought, what have you done? You're cursed, you bring grief upon those you love... even after death. God played a cruel joke when he created you... You designed amazing building, but you filled it with terror. You wrote heavenly music but it made people tremble when they heard it. You raised the beautiful flower but it's withering because of you now.'
'I'm sorry, darling,' the old woman said quietly. 'But you have to go on. For him. Erik wanted you to be happy and he gave up his own happiness for it.'
Christine shook her head.
'He was my teacher, my father, my only friend, and I betrayed him. And now they're talking about him so... how dare they! Only three months ago they were trembling at his only name!' She almost cried but stopped and gained her composure. 'But I won't let them mock at him!'
She suddenly stood up and grabbed Madame Giry's hands.
'Madame, show me the way to Erik's...' Christine didn't want to say 'lair'. '...show me the way to Erik's home.'
'Why would you want to return there, dear?' Antoinette didn't like the idea at all. Why open old wounds? Past must remain in the past even when your dear people remain there.
'Please, I need to go down there.'
Madame Giry frowned.
'No, Christine, that's not the place for you now.'
'I beg you, madame...'
'No'
The girl stopped for an instant surprised at the steel in the other's voice, but almost immediately her face turned into a mask of cold determination.
'Okay, then I'll go alone.'
She rushed to the door with the swiftness amazing for someone who has just been sititng on the sofa with no sparkle in her eyes and no sign of blood in her face. She's absolutely hysterical, Mme Giry realized with a start. She'll listen to nobody now and she will go down regardless of the chances of being lost or caught into an old trap.
'Wait! I'll go with you.' Christine stopped. ' But you obey my every word, do you hear me?'
Since their meeting today it was Christine's first smile.
'I will.'
They were walking quickly along the familiar Opera's passages and Christine felt her heart sinking. These passages held so many remembrances, both sweet and bitter! Here's the one leading to the dormitories where she lived for the first several years. The singer remembered how uncomfortable she felt having no privacy at all. She never got used to changing and sharing bathroom with other girls, and uneasiness washer constant companion. The girl usually waited for the others to fall asleep before making herslef comfortable in her own bed and relax. She never complained about this because it sounded like paranoia but how awful it was to wash knowing that there are others waiting for you and you hurry trying not ot take much time... It also often turned out that she was the last one to get dressed and while other girls had already run to the rehearsals she struggled with her points trying to put them on right. If not for Meg Christine's life would have been much worse though. She was a shy child and after her father's death all the world seemed to be hostile to her. Each gibe or scolding made her feel hurt and lonely, and in the evenings when the girls divided into several whispering laughing groups, little Daae hid somewhere in the corner and recollected her father's songs and stories. When Meg was around she considered it her duty to find Christine and pull her to one of the companies, and though the Christine rarely joined the conversation it let her not to be a complete stranger.
Meg was the only one who knew all of Christine's thoughts and dreams. But even she didn't knew about the Angel. Not that Christine didn't trust her best friend to keep the secret...Perhaps it was some kind of superstition or just fear that Meg wouldn't believe her but little Daae kept her secret until the last year. Of course, Meg noticed that her friend wasn't telling her everything but it was not in her character to press. Besides, she always had something in her mind to keep her attention.. Christine smiled recollecting their sorties - which sometimes resulted in a long boring lecture on behaviour.
And here's the passage which leads to the small chapel where she used to hide from everyone: first to cry and then - to talk to her Angel. Suddenly she almost saw the scene of many-many years ago...
She ran down the stairs of the chapel, her face tense in attempt to hold back tears.
'What's the matter, my child?' her Angel's voice filled the room.
'They all have someone to care for them. And I'm.. I'm alone!' tears stared to fall from her eyelashes.
'I care about you and I won't let anyone offend you, Christine'
'I know but..' she sniffed.
'What's it?' he prompted. 'You know you can tell me everything'
'You have another children to care about,' she blurted out fearing her boldness. 'I'm only one of them'
'Why do you think so?' despite her fears his voice sounded calm as usual.
But the question took her aback.
'Because you're an angel and you have many little children to play to'
'Listen to me, my little Christine. I came to you because your father asked me to take care of you. And I am with you all the time, even when you don't hear me. Believe me, you're my only charge and the only one who listens to my music'
She raised her eyes to the fresco and gave a shy smile.
'Really'
'Have I ever deceived you'
'No'
'Then trust me, my child. You're not alone in this world, always remember this'
'I will,' she replied obediently. And felt the tension leave her.
She plunged out of her thoughts as they came up to Christine's old dressing-room. The door seemed to be nailed up but Mme Giry didn't pay any atention. She turned they key in the hole and the door easily unlcked. Seeing Christine's surprise she explained:
'Monsieurs Andre and Firmin don't want to try their luck again. They avoid the places which have any connections with the Phantom and pretend that this room has been destroyed not to arouse unnecessary suspicions.'
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