Hi everybody,
thank you all for your continued support, for reading, for putting on alert, for adding to favorites, but most of all for reviewing! I am glad you mostly liked Amanda-Ann, and to introduce her further, there is now some interaction between her and Erik, plus some insight from Nadir on the situation.
I am sorry, no Christine this time, but also no nasty Raoul. We will catch up on them next time, I promise!
Now on to the chapter, and keep in mind that I do not own these characters, well with the exception of the Stantons...
Chapter 13 – Yearning For My Guidance
"Papa," Amanda-Ann begged. "Will I be able to go to our Opera house again? To see how the work progresses?"
Mr. Stanton shook his head. "No, darling," he said, sad that he had to deny his child's wish. "Construction work is in full swing, there is noise and dust, and it is kind of dangerous. I do not want you to go there right now. Maybe later, when we are close to reopening." He smiled. "That way it will also be a much greater surprise for you, when you see all the changes!"
Amanda-Ann nodded. "I know, papa," she sighed. "But still... You went there only yesterday, and Monsieur Givenould... he is there every day?"
The last phrase sounded like a question, even though Amanda-Ann knew it to be true. Her father beamed. "That man is a godsend!" he told her. "He has achieved so much in just a few days. He has managed to audition all our cast members, some of which we are actually able to keep he assures me, he is overseeing the renovation, and has been working on sketches for the set and the costumes. I wonder if he sleeps at all!"
"I knew it!" Amanda-Ann's pale features lit up in a shy smile. "He deserved a chance. I knew he would work twice as hard to prove himself, we who are different learn that at a young age."
"Amanda-Ann!" Her father sounded shocked. "I hope you do not feel that way, that you have to be better, work harder than others, just because you are not as strong as they are! You know that I love you anyway, and your mother would love you, too, were she still alive!"
"My dearest papa," Amanda-Ann cooed. "I know that you could not love me more. But that is just you. Others will not see me the same way. And things are just so much harder for me, like going to see an opera. You had to buy a theater for me so that I can do it more often in the future!"
"Well, there may be some minor problems," Carl Stanton admitted, "but as long as we can find solutions for those..."
"Then you will probably not have any objection to the solution I just came up with?" Amanda-Ann asked shyly.
"Solution?" her father asked. "What are you talking about? What solution? To what problem?"
"The solution to the problem that I cannot go to our opera house now with all the construction going on," Amanda-Ann explained. "We should invite Monsieur Givenould to have lunch with us on Sunday. Then he can tell me about his work, about the auditions he has held, and maybe show me the sketches for the sets and costumes he is working on. That way I can learn about everything that is going on there, without actually going myself."
Mr. Stanton thought about it for a while, then nodded. "I guess that would be a way to get you at least a bit involved," he admitted. "I will therefore ask Monsieur Givenould to join us for lunch onSunday. And," he added, anticipating his daughter's next request, "I will tell him I will send our carriage for him, so that he won't have to worry about being seen in the streets with his mask."
Xxxx
"I cannot do this!" Erik yelled at Nadir. "Working for the man is one thing, but socializing with him? What if he invites a whole group of friends of his to this lunch and wants to parade me around as the oddity I am?"
"I doubt he plans to do that," Nadir tried to calm his friend. "I think having a sickly daughter is giving him a good idea of what it might be like to be somewhat different, don't you think? I certainly would not have done such a thing to anybody, not with my own little Reza..."
"I am sorry, Nadir," Erik sighed. "I know this whole situation reminds you so much of him. And I have to admit, when I met this girl at my job interview, I immediately had to think of your boy as well. True, she is older than Reza was, and her ailment is a different one, but still..." He looked into the far distance remembering the sweet, ethereal face of Amanda-Ann and her deep, sky-blue eyes. "She won't live long either," he whispered, "and once it happens, it will break her father's heart just like Reza..."
Nadir put a comforting hand on Erik's shoulder. "It does hurt," he confessed. "And the hurt will never go away completely. But there is also the joy of having known the child, the memory of all the time spent together. My life would not have been as fulfilling without Reza, and I am sure your employer will one day feel the same way about his child. But, Erik," he reminded his friend. "There is also the child to think about. I know that you were of great help to my little boy. He opened up to you a lot, because he knew that you were different, too. That you could understand his problems like nobody else. Maybe, you could do the same or something similar for that girl. Just think about how fortunate you are to have found a job that you actually enjoy and that will allow you to save enough money so that you and Mademoiselle Daaé will be able to get married in maybe a year or so. You should be grateful to Mr. Stanton and his daughter for giving you that chance. Spending some time with them and showing the young lady some empathy might be a good way to show how grateful you are."
Erik sighed, he knew he had lost the argument. "I guess I will have to tell Mr. Stanton tomorrow, that I gladly accept his kind invitation," he mumbled resignedly.
Xxxx
Amanda-Ann was excited. They did not often receive guests, since it was too exhausting for her. Therefore any guest, any change of their daily routine would have been wonderful in her opinion, but this time the guest would be Monsieur Givenould!
She had met him only once, when he had come for his job interview, and she had been very impressed by her father's new employee. He was tall and slender, and so very knowledgeable about so many things! How he had immediately spotted the problem with the theater's acoustics, how he had suggested a play suitable for their circumstances and offered to design sets and costumes as well! And that voice of his! Amanda-Ann thought she would be listening to him in rapt attention even if he were just reading the city's street directory to her.
She knew she would have so many questions for him, about the progress of the renovation work, about his auditions with the cast, who he had decided could stay and which positions he would have to find new people for, about the play itself, maybe he could tell her a bit more about the story, point out memorable songs to her, and she would like to see the sketches for the set and costume and discuss that with him!
She sighed. Would he even want to talk with her? Maybe he thought she was just a stupid girl! Many people did that. Because she was weak and frail and looked younger than she actually was, people tended to think she was not able to follow an intelligent conversation. No, she shook her head. He would not treat her like that. Not him. Not somebody who most likely had made similar experiences because of his mask – and what lay underneath.
Amanda-Ann wondered. Monsieur Givenould had seemed rather handsome to her, his movements were elegant, and the part of his face that was not covered by the mask was rather appealing. How bad could the disfigurement he was hiding be? It must be terrible, she thought, for if it were only a minor scar, he probably would not wear that mask, which must be uncomfortable. She wondered if she could ask him about it. Would he want to talk about this problem? She decided not to do so this first time. Maybe later. Maybe once she had won his trust, she could approach the subject. And maybe, one day he would show her...
But it was getting late. He would be here soon, and she had not decided yet which dress she would wear for this special occasion. A pretty one, that much was certain, she wanted to look her best, and maybe the maid could pin her hair up...
Xxxx
When Erik arrived at Mr. Stanton's home, he was lead into the parlor, where he found his employer standing by the fireplace, and Miss Amanda-Ann seated in a comfortable armchair.
He took Amanda-Ann's hand and raised it to his lips, then inclined his head in front of his employer. "Monsieur Stanton, Mademoiselle," he said, "thank you very much for your kind invitation. I am honored to join you for lunch today."
Amanda-Ann beamed. He had kissed her hand! He most certainly did not treat her like a stupid child. A slight blush crept into her pale cheeks. "We are honored to have you here, Monsieur Givenould," she whispered. "And I hope you will be able to tell us everything that is going on in our theater at the moment."
"I hope I will be able to answer all your questions, Mademoiselle," Erik replied politely, and since the maid now announced that lunch was about to be served, he bowed in front of Amanda-Ann and offered her his arm to lead her to the dining room.
Erik remembered only too well what Nadir had said about having to deal with a doomed child, and he was only too aware of how much Reza had liked him, because, in a way, he understood. Since he, too, was different. "If I can show my gratitude to Mr. Stanton by making his daughter's short life a bit more enjoyable, I will do so," he vowed to himself. And he knew it would not be difficult. Amanda-Ann pulled at his heartstrings the same way Reza had done all those years ago. And there also was a certain feeling of kinship. They were both outsiders, not fully accepted by society and therefore facing similar problems.
Xxxx
After lunch, coffee was served in the garden. Since the garden table was several minutes' walk from the terrace, Mr. Stanton had planned to use Amanda-Ann's wheelchair to get her there. But to his surprise, the girl had adamantly refused. She wanted to walk the short distance. She felt so strong today, so invigorated!
Lunch had been wonderful! Monsieur Givenould had told her everything about the theater. He had also spoken about the auditions he had held so far. Some of the musicians would be good enough, he had informed her, the violins were even rather decent, but the woodwinds left a lot to be desired and he would have to hire some better players for that department. As to the singers, the so-called soloists were all lacking, with the exception of Bill Hayward, a baritone. His voice was not too special, but he had a long breath, comic talent and could do fast parlando passages. He would be perfect for the role of Dulcamara, the charlatan, pretending to have all sorts of magical potions and ointments for sale, from which the young farmer Nemorino would buy his love potion. Miss Snyders, on the other hand, was not prima donna material, but she would be acceptable in the small role of Giannetta. That left the two protagonists and the soldier Belcore, who also had his eye on the pretty Adina.
Monsieur Givenould had suggested to have a look around music schools in order to find suitable talent and Amanda-Ann thought this was a great idea. Young people, that needed a chance to get a foot in the door, that was who she wanted to perform at her opera house!
Now they were heading out into the garden to where coffee would be served. Erik once again was leading Amanda-Ann. Under his other arm a huge roll of paper was tucked. Once they would have finished their coffee, he would show Amanda-Ann and his employer plans of what was currently being done at the theater building as well as his own drafts for the sets and costumes of the opera they were planning to stage, once the construction work would be finished.
Mr. Stanton was beyond pleased. Amanda-Ann was so vivid, she even seemed stronger than normal. It had been a long time since he had last seen her so excited, so happy. And he had no doubts that this temporary improvement was mostly due to his new employee and their shared interest in staging this opera. "I might have to invite him more often," Mr. Stanton thought, "since she seems to enjoy his company so much."
After coffee, Erik spread out his papers on the table and proceeded to explain everything. Mr. Stanton of course already knew of all the work that was currently being done at the theater, and he had seen Erik's designs for the set and costume before, but he could not help being once again impressed with the wonderful drawings.
Amanda-Ann was even more pleased. She looked wide-eyed at the drawing of the set. This was marvellous! A little village square, but not like one here in England, but the way a village square might look in sunny Italy. She had never been to Italy, but wished with all her heart she could go there one day. But this was almost as good. She could pretend to be there, right in that little village where the story of Adina and Nemorino played out! There was a little cart to one side, and Erik explained that this was the cart of Dulcamara, who would come to the village and offer his dubious services early on in the play.
"Is he going to pull this cart on his own?" Amanda-Ann inquired. "It looks rather heavy. Does somebody help him, or will he have a pony or a donkey?"
Erik cleared his throat. "Some productions might use a pony or a donkey," he explained, "but the animals are a bit... shall we say unpredictable. I would therefore prefer to have the cart pulled by Dulcamara and maybe one servant."
"Oh please, let us use a donkey!" Amanda-Ann begged. "It would look so much more natural! It would not have to be on stage for long, just to pull the cart in, then it could be lead away. Surely, in this village there will be stables..."
Mr. Stanton laughed. "You won't stand a chance, Givenould," he told Erik. "My daughter wants a donkey, so we'll have to give her one!"
He looked up startled. Had that just been a raindrop, he had felt? Indeed, they had all been so caught up in Erik's drawings and explanations thereof that they had not noticed the dark clouds forming overhead. He panicked. Even though Amanda-Ann seemed comparatively strong today, it would take her several minutes to reach the safety of the house without her wheelchair, and if she got soaked...
Erik seemed to understand the situation. He quickly jumped to his feet. "If you permit, Mademoiselle," he said to Amanda-Ann and scooped her up in his arms, then he began to run towards the house as fast as he could. Mr. Stanton followed, carrying Erik's sketches.
Once inside, Erik carefully deposited Amanda-Ann into a comfortable armchair. "I hope you did not get too wet, Mademoiselle," he asked.
Amanda-Ann's face was glowing. "Not at all, thanks to you," she whispered, still overwhelmed by the feeling of being carried by his strong arms. How safe she had felt, how protected! And how chivalrous of him it had been to offer her his help in such a way! "I hope I was not too much of a burden to you," she added, giving Erik an adoring look.
Erik laughed. "Not at all, Mademoiselle," he assured her. "You are as light as a feather!"
Mr. Stanton had arrived in the meanwhile as well. He put Erik's papers down on a nearby side table and turned to his daughter, concern in his eyes. "Are you cold, my dear?" he asked. "Getting wet is very harmful to you, especially since with the rain it is getting quite chilly outside!"
Amanda-Ann smiled at her father. "I am perfectly fine, papa," she reassured him, "thanks to Monsieur Givenould. He brought me inside so fast that I hardly felt any raindrop at all. I think it only got really bad once we were safely in the house."
After Mr. Stanton had looked her over critically and realized that she spoke the truth and did not look soaked at all, he turned to Erik and grasped his hand. "Thank you," he uttered. "Oh thank you, Monsieur Givenould! Your quick reaction spared my daughter a cold shower and kept her dry and safe. I am forever in your debt!"
"We would be honored if you would join us for lunch again next Sunday," Amanda-Ann added, blushing at the boldness of her suggestion.
"Yes, yes, please!" her father begged. "Please have lunch with us again next Sunday, to keep us informed on everything!"
"I... I will be honored," Erik stammered, feeling almost suffocated by their gratitude. He had not thought much about it. He had just instinctively realized that the girl could not get back to the house on her own feet fast enough before it would begin to pour, so he had carried her.
Amanda-Ann looked at him, her eyes full of hero-worshipping. "We are friends now, are we not, Monsieur Givenould?" she asked.
Erik nodded. He knew that this girl had found a place in his heart already, right next to the memory of Reza, Nadir's son.
"Will you then tell me your first name?" Amanda-Ann inquired. "And maybe you could call me Miss Amanda-Ann instead of Mademoiselle from now on?"
Erik looked over to Mr. Stanton for approval. As the older man nodded, Erik agreed. "It will be a pleasure to address you in such a personal way, Miss Amanda-Ann," he said. "And to answer your question, my first name is Erik."
"Erik," Amanda-Ann repeated, and smiled. It was a good name, strong and comforting, like the man himself. "My good friend, Mister Erik!"
