Lessons

Thank you for bearing with me. I appreciate any comments and reviews.

I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

I do not own anything by Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Susan Kay. Everything else is my own work.

The men took the rest of the week to recover from their malady, but soon things were back to normal. Raoul's chef vowed to never attempt any further English dishes, and everyone had to agree that was for the best.

Erik really however regretted opening his mouth, as the following week was spent teaching Jean how to cook. Monday was toasted bread and boiled eggs.

"No, place the toasting fork in the bread and hold it over the flame…. NOT IN THE FLAME IDIOT!" Erik yelled as Jean incinerated the piece of baguette.

Quickly turning off the gas cooker Erik sighed, took the toasting fork away from Jean and plunged the still burning bread into the sink and poured water on it. "Let us try boiling eggs!" he declared, as Jean nodded.

"Sorry but I am hungry and thought it would toast quicker if I put it in the flame!" Jean explained.

"We will try toast again later." Erik replied as he cut a chunk of the remaining Baguette off, buttered it and handed it to Jean. "Eat first then you may be able to concentrate." Erik added as he located his favourite pot to boil eggs in.

ooo

Christine had been out shopping and had returned with Madame Giry, the two ladies chatting and laughing as they entered the lake house sitting room, just in time to see Erik diving out of the kitchen as three loud BANGS echoed around the house. Followed quickly by what looked like white and yellow debris flying out and over the furniture and Rugs.

"Oops! Sorry!" Jean called out as he exited the kitchen covered in what Christine and Madame Giry realised was bits of boiled egg.

Erik got up from where he had landed on the floor and looked at the mess. "Well, your lesson now includes not letting the pot boil dry!" Erik responded sarcastically, "Since you appear to be wearing one boiled egg and another seems to be covering my sitting room, where is the third?" he asked.

Jean sheepishly pointed up and behind him, "I think it is stuck to the ceiling!" he replied, as Erik looked at him in shock.

"I see the cooking lessons are going well!" Christine pointed out with a snigger.

"It seems that today is just as weird down here as it is upstairs." Madame Giry declared.

Erik was distracted from his egg issues, "Upstairs?" he enquired.

"Yes," Madame Giry responded, "I was just explaining to Christine, the two idiot managers currently have two priests and a plumber running around like headless chickens checking and blessing all the pipework!"

"What?" Erik and Jean both asked simultaneously

"Erik lets us get this mess cleaned up, call temps on the cooking lessons for today and Madame Giry will explain," Christine announced, as Jean looked embarrassed, and Erik looked relieved.

ooo

After a group effort the eggs were cleaned up, even the one stuck on the kitchen ceiling, which involved Erik, a spatula and a lot of swearing in Persian.

Christine brought the tea tray in and started pouring as Madame Giry began her story. "Well, this all started due to the Frog in the bog!" she announced as Jean and Erik both turned a sickly green at the memories of the previous week.

"Go on!" Christine begged her curiosity burning bright.

Just without mentioning the F in the B again!" Erik pleaded, as Jean nodded his agreement.

"The food stuff that was not cooked correctly." Madame Giry corrected herself, "caused considerable gastric distress to several persons, who in turn could not stop noxious gases from being released." She said as everyone agreed with her.

"Well, one person decided to vent said gases from their house into a corridor that leads to the Opera house managers office." Madame clarified as Erik started to look embarrassed.

"I would not worry!" Jean piped up noticing Erik's uncomfortable demeanour. "Raoul and I with our combined noxious gases managed to have the entire building where my apartment is located evacuated because of a supposed gas leak!" he cheerfully added.

"Seriously?" Christine asked as she started sniggering.

"Yes." Replied Jean, at least you were a little more discreet." He nodded in Erik's direction, "Raoul struggled to contain his dignity whilst the pompiers checked for the supposed gas leak!" Jean added with a snigger.

Erik's embarrassment vanished at this statement, "Do tell?" he asked.

"Let us just say, I can see why them made him the entertainments officer when he was in the Navy; Trying to prevent a further gas escape in the crowded street he did a very entertaining hornpipe!" Jean said as Erik burst out laughing.

"It went something like this!" Jean declared as he held his hands down by his sides, fists tightly clenched and then he clamped his knees together and started jigging on the spot.

Erik was roaring with laughter at this point. "Then what happened?" he asked between laughs.

"Well, several older ladies made the sign of the cross at him, and a few others threw money down for his performance." Jean explained, "The pompiers had just cleared the building as safe to enter when Raoul finished with his piece de resistance…" Jean continued.

"What?" Erik and Christine demanded together.

"He let rip one almighty F…" Jean started as Madame Giry interrupted him.

"Yes, I think we can all work that out!" she stated before clearing her throat. "What happened next?" she enquired.

"Louis hurriedly collected the money from where people had thrown it and bundled Raoul quickly inside the building before the smell hit everyone!" Jean finished as Erik finally got his laughter under control.

"Safe to say that has made me feel better!" Erik declared before looking straight at Madame Giry, "Sorry for the diversion." Erik said, "you were saying the gases were vented to the manager's office, then…"

"Well, let us say someone did not think about wind direction, did they?" Madame Giry asked rhetorically.

"The only wind direction I was thinking about that day was out of this house!" Erik confirmed.

"Excuse me?" Christine interrupted, "How do you know about…"

"About the tunnels and passageways." Madame Giry responded, "Simple, years of dealing with Erik meant I learnt about most of the tunnels et cetera, including the one that leads to the manager's office. But the wind direction meant that last week the noxious gases were just recirculated into the manager's office instead of being taken out via the roof door." She added, taking a sip of her tea.

"Okay, that explains the need for the plumber, but the priests?" Erik asked intrigued.

"What did you say before your argument with the leather pouffe?" Madame Giry enquired with a smirk, as Jean leaned in further ready for answers.

"Well, I called to Christine to ask if I could come back in." Erik replied looking puzzled.

"What exactly did you say?" Madame Giry pressed, "Because the managers told the priests this morning that hell had frozen over.".

"I bet that did not go down well!" Christine remarked.

"No, it did not!" Madame Giry confirmed, "Apparently Firmin made the remark that Hell would freeze over before he believed in real ghosts, then they heard a voice coming from their office walls." she prompted.

By now Erik was laughing hard again, it took a few moments before he could speak. "I said 'Please let me in, it is so cold down here and I have learnt my lesson!' as I was trying to get Christine to feel sorry for me and let me back in the house." Erik answered, before Jean burst out laughing as well.

"Wow talk about perfect timing!" Jean remarked wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, "No wonder they felt they needed a priest, 'it is cold down here' they thought; that was hell you were speaking from as the Ghost of the Opera Ghost!" he added, as Christine looked at her husband sternly.

"I thought I said no more scaring the managers, as it is not a sport!" she pointed out.

Erik stopped laughing, "Angel, I did not even know they were in last week much less was in a fit state to consider pranks!" he pointed out.

Spotting a marital spat about to start Madame Giry became the referee. "It seems that fate convened to scare Andre and Firmin as they should not have been in last week at all, but they were pilfering the house wine cellar!" she pointed out, with a smile.

Jean took the small moment of quiet to ask a burning question. "Can we skip back to the bit about Erik having an argument with a leather pouffe?" he asked, "How do you argue with a pouffe?"

At this Christine grinned like a Cheshire cat, whilst Madame Giry looked at the floor with a smirk, Erik just looked straight at Jean, "We continue the cooking lessons!" he barked, as he made his way back into the kitchen.

ooo

One week later, one black eye caused by an errant escargot, one frazzled wig, five stitches and one lump on the head caused by a cupboard door left open; not to mention the exploding boiled eggs, Erik was pleased to have finally taught Jean a few recipes that he could use to feed himself and Meg.

"I am sorry about the escargot!" Jean said as Erik turned his back to remove his mask and apply ice to his left eye, where Jean had hit him with a snail, shell and all whilst trying to remove the snail from said shell.

"Thankfully my mask took the brunt of the hit and the garlic butter!" Erik complained as he held the ice pack to his now swelling eye socket and looked at his mask complete with a new covering of snail, butter, chopped garlic and parsley over the left-hand side.

"I am also sorry about the cupboard door!" Jean said his remorse in every word.

"I told you yesterday you were forgiven for that one!" Erik replied testily.

"I promise I will not just tip half a bottle of brandy into the pan to flambe anymore like I did on Tuesday!" Jean added wringing his hands, "Sorry about the wig!"

"Christine was saying last week it was time I got a new wig!" Erik responded reigning in his now rapidly burning fuse.

"Also, after Wednesday I will look before turning around and trying to point with a knife!" Jean concluded.

"I am more annoyed about my ruined shirt than the fact you stabbed me!" Erik growled his fuse burnt through.

"Also, I am…" Jean started to be interrupted by Erik.

"ENOUGH!" Erik shouted his fuse gone completely.

Christine's head appeared around the kitchen door, "Erik temper!" she chided, as the rest of her entered the kitchen and looked at the current chaos.

"Erik I can clean the butter off your mask, all I need is some of my face powder to soak up the grease!" she pointed out as she looked at the garlic butter seasoned mask that now lay on the kitchen table. "Jean, I suggest that doing the washing up would be a great help!" she added before turning to stare at Erik's back. "Go and calm down for a moment, Jean did not mean to hit you with a garlic buttered snail." Christine stated as a now irate Erik; still holding his ice pack against his left eye, left the kitchen and headed to the front door.

Christine smiled at Jean as he went to pour hot water into the sink. "I apologi…" Christine started when an almighty scream of rage echoed from by the lake, followed by Erik walking back into the house still holding his icepack.

"Better?" Christine enquired as Erik stalked past into their bedroom.

"Much!" Erik replied as he entered the bedroom for a moment before exiting with a clean mask on, the ice now melting in his hand.

"That concludes cooking with Erik, for health and safety reasons!" Erik announced as he deposited what ice was left back in the ice box.

"Health and safety?" Christine asked.

"Yes mine!" Erik replied slightly exasperated.

"You have to admit that was a cracking shot!" a cheerful voice called out from behind a pile of washing up.

Christine sniggered as Erik frowned, "You must concede..." Christine giggled "Jean is right, very few could actually hit someone in the eye well enough to leave a black eye whilst that person was wearing a mask." She added, as Erik grimaced.

"I say is there anything I can do to pay you back for everything?" Jean asked as he finished the washing and drying up.

Christine looked around, then stared at the gaslight in the sitting room with a smile as Erik realised what she was going to say and started shaking his head and mouthing the word 'no' with a very worried look on his face.

"Actually Jean, since Erik's apprentice is busy at the moment there is a job, he could do with your help with." Christine stated as Erik scowled and threw the words 'Thank you so much!' sarcastically in her ear.

ooo

Monday morning brought a bright and eager Jean down to the lake house, to be met with a sour and sulky Erik, and a Christine who was clearly losing patience with her husband.

"Morning Jean!" Christine greeted as she continued to glare at her husband, "Coffee and pastries in the Kitchen help yourself, I just need a word with Erik in private!" she added before grabbing her petulant husband by his sleeve and dragging him out of the front door.

"What is it with you today?" Christine enquired clearly annoyed.

"I have barely survived cooking with Jean, and you want me to work with him doing the lighting?" Erik retorted back, scratching the healing stitches from where Jean accidentally stabbed him the week before.

"Erik, you promised to install the electric lighting whilst Nadir was on his honeymoon and you cannot do all the wiring etc by yourself, you do need an assistant and you gave your apprentice extra time to learn stone masonry, so he is not back until the end of the month. Would you prefer I asked Raoul to help instead?" Christine asked testily.

Even though Raoul was very happily married to Meredith, the thought of him helping still rankled. "No, I shall work with Jean." Erik replied with bad grace.

"Good!" Christine replied crisply, "Get rid of that scowl and just tell Jean exactly what you need him to do, and when." She added, "I am going out to see Meg and Meredith…Behave yourself."

"Always Angel!" Erik called back, as Christine headed up to the Rue Scribe.

ooo

Erik was grateful that he had already installed electrical wiring and supplies to his house when the first exposition came in 1878 and electrified the streetlights in the Place de lOpera. It was a small advancement that allowed him to electrify all his alarms, as well as the bellows on his pipe organ. So, it was not too difficult to install the new electric lights into the lake house. He just needed some assistance in running the cables.

Sitting Jean down with his coffee and pastry; Erik explained that last year as well as settling into married life he still found time during the closed season to attend the exposition that took place regarding all things electrical and absconded with some of the new incandescent bulbs the nice Monsieur Edison brought into France to demonstrate. All that was needed was to link the connections in the junction box then to the new switches for each of the lights, finally run the wiring down the empty gas pipes and then connect the wires to the bulb holders also permanently borrowed from M. Edison, replace the old gas mantles with the bulb holders and bulbs and voila electric lighting.

Explaining what the plan for the day was and how they were going to achieve it, Erik started feeling positive. Alas it was not long before that positive mood was starting to fade.

The first installation was in the music room. Christine had nagged her husband mercilessly about the poor lighting and his eyesight when he was composing, so Erik briefed Jean and left him to unwind the needed wiring from the drum ready for Erik to install into the empty gas pipes that made up the plafonnier in the music room ceiling.

"Right so the first thing we have to do is ensure that there is no gas left in the pipe before we run the cable through it." Erik instructed as he and Jean removed the gas light from the ceiling.

Erik was placing the plafonnier on his drafting table when he noticed Jean still atop his step ladder looking thoughtfully at the gas pipe that remained, before quickly standing on tiptoe and removing a box of lucifers from his trouser pocket.

Erik watched in slow motion as Jean struck a lucifer and held it up to the gas pipe…

Time spun at its normal rate as there came a loud pop and a short burst of flame from the gas pipe, Jean jumped and dropped the lucifer; which Erik ran over to and stamped out before it ruined his lovely Persian rug.

"What were you thinking?" Erik yelped as he stood up still staring at his rug.

"I was checking to see if there was any gas left in the pipe!" Jean answered, as Erik started to smell something.

"What is burning?" Erik asked as he sniffed the air before looking up at Jean…

The large vase of flowers and water hit Jean fast; and hard enough to knock him off the step ladder, but to Erik's delight, the small amount of smouldering hair on top of Jean's head had been extinguished.

ooo

By the time the music room had electric lighting, Erik was considering removing his wig and tearing out what was left of his own hair, Jean was trying… Very trying, and they still had to finish the entry hall lighting before the end of the day.

ooo

The cables had been run, and the plafonnier in the entry hall was wired and ready to install, Erik and Jean had just stopped for lunch when Jean noticed a stray copper wire that Erik had not yet connected; putting his cheese baguette down Jean wandered back into the entry hall and reached out.

"Do not touc…" Erik tried to say as Jean touched the lone wire and instantly there was a bang and Jean was flung by the electrical current back into the sitting room. "ch the wire it is live!" Erik finished as Jean sat in a heap by the Kitchen door rubbing his fingers.

Erik put his head in his hands. "I left the electricity on whilst we had lunch as it powers the alarms. I must switch the electricity off at the junction box before I connect that wire!" Erik sighed as Jean shook his hand in the air.

"I say are one's fingers meant to tingle and not work properly?" Jean enquired trying to massage some feeling back into his hand.

"Only when one has electrocuted their hand!" Erik grumbled as he put down his own baguette and walked over to inspect the damage caused. "Thank heavens no major damage!" Erik added after he had inspected first the wire visually, then the wall Jean landed against.

"What about my hand?" Jean asked.

"The tingling should wear off soon!" Erik replied as he went to the junction box and shut down the power, before going back to the hallway and connecting the bare wire before fitting the switch to the wall, before switching the electrical supply back on; that just left the rewired plafonnier to fit.

ooo

Christine was heading back to the lake house after a lovely visit with Meg and Meredith, the ladies had enjoyed a trip to the dressmakers followed by a leisurely lunch, which left Christine feeling refreshed. She was reflecting on her pleasant day as she poled the boat back across the lake.

Her reflections were suddenly rudely interrupted as a pair of green slimy hands, one of which was dropped an equally green and slimy pair of pliers into her vessel then grabbed a hold of the side of the boat.

Now completely aware of her husband's tricks playing the siren of the lake, after falling for this stunt twice before; Christine was incensed. She had made Erik promise not to do this again after the last time, which had resulted in her panicking, capsizing the boat and ruining her dress. This time she was annoyed and ready.

Looking carefully at the water's surface between the hands, Christine spotted the bamboo breathing tube Erik used and carefully placing the pole inside the boat she gently lent over and grabbed the tube placing her thumb tightly over the hole in the top, knowing that it would restrict Erik's breathing and force him to surface.

Suddenly the hands let go of the side of the boat and started waving around trying to clear the blockage, but to no avail, Christine held the tube as she thought she was forcing Erik to let go and stick his head out of the water, when…

"Have you found them yet?" Erik yelled as he exited the front door of the house. This caused Christine to jump and pull the tube out of the water, it was closely followed by Jean coughing and spluttering as he flailed around catching his breath.

"Oh my gosh I am so sorry!" Christine cried as she grabbed Jean's arm and tried to help him into the boat.

ooo

After a little more coughing and nearly capsizing the boat, followed by Erik diving into the lake to swim out and assist in order to prevent his wife from ruining another gown, the three made it back safely to shore.

"Petite are you unhurt?" Erik asked gently, as Christine nodded. "Well!" he added staring at a soggy Jean, "Did you find my pliers?" he demanded angrily as Christine on hearing Erik's request suddenly glared at her husband.

"Erik?" Christine asked dangerously, "Did you lose your temper and throw those pliers at Jean?" she asked.

Before Erik could answer, Jen piped up, "No he did not, he threw them straight out of the front door!"

"But he did lose his temper with you?" Christine asked eyeing her husband.

"Only because someone leaned on the light switch as I was fitting the light and gave me an electric shock!" Erik responded in defence.

"I was leaning on the wall watching Erik and learning." Jean grimaced, "I felt something shift behind me, heard a click, followed by a bang. And Erik fell off the ladder" He continued, "I then turned around and realised I had tripped the switch, so I turned it off again and then after Erik finished fitting the light he did a lot of cussing, followed by the pliers being thrown out of the front door!" he added, as Christine sighed, thanking the heavens they only had the kitchen and sitting room left to do.

ooo

Later that evening, as Erik and Christine snuggled down in bed, Christine turned to face her husband. "I am really proud of you!" she declared. As Erik turned his head to look at her.

"Proud?" he asked, "You told me off for losing my temper," he added.

"True." Christine replied, "However you did not kill or maim Jean for his mistake!" she pointed out, "Once upon a time my best friend would have been a widow, after what Jean has put you through." She commented "But you have mastered controlling your temper and not hurting people, so I am proud of you… See I told you there was a moral man inside you all along."

Erik thought long and hard for a moment, before deciding that the truth was the best policy, "It was nothing to do with morals… I did not want you getting cross at me for splattering blood up the sitting room walls!" he answered.

Christine's face fell at Erik's comment, obviously there was still some work required on the morals. "Oh Erik!" she sighed.