The next morning Christine woke up from the touch of the sun on her face. She stretched and stood up, looking out through the window she gazed at the gardens, still remembering that voice she had heard from yesterday, a voice that could make any nightingale blush. The sun was shining today, making the raindrops, that had been falling down during the night, twinkle all over the flowers and the lawn.
Christine was pulled out from her thoughts when she heard the door open. A girl walked in, about the same age as she, with blond hair that was pulled up in two braids that had lately been pinned up at her head. She carried a tray with food that she putted down on the table.
"Good morning!" she smiled. "You must be Christine" she said in very wide Yorkshire-accent.
"Yes, and you are?" Christine asked.
"My name's Martha" she smiled even more. "I brought you some breakfast, your uncle and aunt told me to tell you that they will be away most of the day. When it turns to summer, people in the flower business always get their hands full."
Christine nodded, trying to understand the servant girl strange accent as much as she could.
"Let's get you dressed, miss, you probably want to spend the day outside in the garden. Maybe you'll meet that nice man that works there."
"Who?" Christine asked as her night-gown was being pulled up over her head.
"A strange but very handsome man, he works in the gardens all the times, I've only met him once, the only time he leaves the gardens behind is when he's going to eat and sleep." Martha said as she started to lace Christine's corset. "You better hold on to the bedpost, and tuck in your tummy."
Christine did as she was told, this was a nightmare that had turned into a habit since she was thirteen. Once the corset was a laced a big white dress with a flower pattern followed.
"Sit down and eat, you're thin as an envelop", Martha said. "I will do your hair while you eat."
Christine sat down and looked at the fruit and porridge that had been placed in front of her along with some tea, not like the breakfast's she had had in France that almost only consisted of sweets.
She started to eat, Martha came back with a hairbrush and a bunch of needles.
"Don't eat to fast, or else half of it will come up again" she smiled. "The Mr and Mrs said that you had been singing in Paris for some years."
Christine's face changed a little as she remembered her days at the opera.
"Yes, quite many years actually." Martha noticed the expression in her voice and the look of sadness in her eyes.
"There now, miss Christine, no reason to be sad or is there? When I heard that you were a singer, I thought that your mouth was constantly chatting."
This made Christine giggle, she started to notice how nice the English little lass was.
"There now" Martha said triumphantly "Your hair is finished and so is your breakfast, you must wear your hat today, it's very sunny."
Christine smiled in appreciation and thanked Martha. She went out to the garden once again and sat down at the same bench as yesterday. After an hour she stood up and rubbed her aching back and started to walk deeper inside the garden. Flowers were blossoming everywhere, they swayed with the wind so delicately.
Christine bent down to smell a group of lilies but was jerked up again by the sound of that voice again.
"Early one morning just as the sun was rising,
I heard a maid sing in the valley below.
Oh, don't deceive me, oh never leave me,
How could you use a poor maiden so?"
It was an english folk song, but still the voice was unmistakably familiar. Christine stood and locked at the rose-covered wall, desperate to get in. Then to her right she saw a tall ladder, she dropped her book on the ground and ran over to, very clumsily, carry it back to where she had stood before.
She hiked her big skirt up with one hand and started to climb up the steps, it was harder that it looked like, especially with her quite high heels and the corset that squeezed her ribs together. Once up she looked down and almost fell over at the sight before her. Everything was filled with flowers and there was a pond with little ducklings swimming in it. But the thing that made her hold her breath was the owner of the voice that stood below her tending to a rosebush.
He wore a white shirt that was unbuttoned in the neck and black trousers, his hair was a little bit more free instead of tightly slicked back as it had been before, he was almost just as she remembered him. He looked so much younger standing there in more casual clothes and in such a natural and brightly lit environment.
"Erik" her lips formed the name but no sound emerged. Tears stared fill her eyes but her lips were smiling as they never had before, such exquisite happiness filled her heart.
She was suddenly pulled back to reality when she heard something buzzing in her ear, she looked up and saw a bee flying around her head. She started to wave it away but didn't notice that the ladder she was standing on was starting to fall, taking her with it. She squeaked and fell to the ground on a carpet of cornflowers.
Erik looked up to the sound of the fall and saw a lady's hat slowly flutter down in front of his feet, he picked it up and started to run for the door but when he opened it all he saw was the ladder that had fallen.
He raised his eyebrows in confusion and walked back to the hidden door in the rosewall, still holding the hat.
Christine run all she could and hid behind a lilac-tree, her head leaned against her hands that rested against the wood, she had seen him again! He was alive and singing just as before, tears now streamed down her face as she quietly sobbed. At least now she knew how to get into that secret garden that was behind the door, she walked back to the ladder and picked up her book that lay next to it. She could see the handle now, she reached for it, her hand grasped it but suddenly she released it and started to walk back to the house, she stopped in front of one of the fountains to wash her face from her crying.
Once finished she walked into the house again and ran back up to her room again, she searched through her belongings until she found her book about Little Lotte again. After the last page she saw the rose with the black ribbon around the stem that he had once given her, it was now pressed because of the pages but it still had some of it's fragrance left. She held it up under her nose and inhaled. All the memories flowed back to her now: the mirror, the lake with the boat, the mannequin with the wedding attire, the kiss... how she had wept over that kiss, his lips had been shaking against her own out of fear and happiness. Fear that she didn't love him as he did her and happiness because no one had ever kissed him before. It seemed like ages ago.
A single tear fell down her cheek as she placed the rose back in the book again. She wiped it away as she heard some one knock at the door.
"Come in" she said, trying to make her voice as steady as possible.
"Ah, I thought I saw you come running back, it's time for dinner very soon, but look at you, miss!" Martha smiled.
Christine frowned and looked down at her dress only to se parts of it covered with dirt and grass. She looked in the mirror and saw that her hair was all ruffed up with grass and flowers in it.
Martha laughed and started to unbutton her dress in the back.
"You better bath and clean yourself before dinner starts, I didn't expect you to drag back the entire garden with you." Christine blushed and looked down in embarrassment.
After the dinner Christine was back in bed but couldn't sleep, she had been lying awake for hours but sleep wouldn't claim her. She rose from the bed, draped her white cape around her shoulders and putted her shoes on.
She silently sneaked out from her room and walked as quiet as she could down he grand stair, the entire house was silent.
As she reached the door to exit the house she picked up a lantern that someone had left. She opened the heavy door and walked out.
It was pitch-dark only the moon and the lantern served as light now for her. A cuckoo, was heard and the bushes were rustling with bunnies.
At last she stood in front of the big wall with roses, they looked more dangerous now than in daylight.
She reached for the handle again, this time pushed it down and with a rustling noise the door opened, and walked inside the secret garden.
She walked down a stair made of stone and gasped as she saw the walls which shut it in, they were covered with climbing ivy, they were so thick and matted together. The ground was covered in soft green grass, and there were roses everywhere. White, pink and red bushes of them. The trees had roses climbing all over them and long tendrils that crept from one tree to another, creating curtains of them. Beautifully carved benches of stone stood in one place and two giant trees created a roof over them.
Daisies, lilies, orchids, tulips, forget-me-nots, lilacs, camellias and roses every flower you could imagine grazed the garden with it's beauty.
Christine smiled widely as continued to walk further into it, finally she stopped in front of a swing that hung from a chinese cherry-tree, the little ducklings were quacking in the pond.
She was just about to sit down in the swing when...
"Hello" someone whispered in her ear.
>---
Authors note: Ooooooh, cliffie huuuuuh? Please review.