I am back! I hope you all still remember me? Yes? Well, I m sorry for the long delay, but will be able to update fairly regularly in the near future. Thank you all for reading (not just this story, but also some of my old ones), for adding to favorites, for putting on alert, and most of all, for reviewing! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Without you, I would have given up long ago.
Anyway, on with our story. No revelation yet, but... well, some development, I think. And keep in mind that I do not own these characters...
Chapter 22 – Why Can't the Past Just Die?
The day after Christine's recital, the de Chagny couple came to "The Music House" again to say their good-byes before returning home to France. Business agreements had been signed long ago, during the period of Christine's rehearsals, and it had been agreed that the Opéra Populaire would start shipping the sets for "Hannibal" to London the following week. While those would be adapted to the smaller stage of the Stantons' theater, the musicians and singers would already learn their parts and rehearse. Once sets and costumes were ready, the new production could start. Then the sets for "L'Elisir d'Amore" would be moved to Paris.
Erik had not been too pleased to work with de Chagny, but he knew that this was a very cost-effective way to put up more productions per year. A short run of "Hannibal" would give their theater diversity, while allowing him more time to work on their next original production, and by exchanging sets and costumes with Paris his dear, dear wife could enjoy a few more operas before she would wilt away and die.
Mr. Stanton was not at the theater, when Raoul and Christine arrived to say their final good-byes, so Erik had to meet them on his own. He was not looking forward to this last confrontation, though. He was in an emotional turmoil. In a way he was glad that Christine would be leaving, but he also dreaded her departure. Seeing her constantly and hearing her sing had reopened the barely healed wounds of his heart. Despite her betrayal he had not stopped loving her. No matter how often he told himself that she was a superficial, heartless, unfaithful woman, unworthy of his love, his heart could not believe it. Not when she sang the way she had at the concert, her voice so full of emotion, of love, longing and loss, and unshed tears making her eyes sparkle.
The way she had looked during the applause following her rendition of Elyssa's aria had pulled at his heartstrings. He had almost believed that she meant every word she had sung, that she still remembered him fondly, that she wished things were different and she could be with him.
Too late! Erik shook his head. No, this could never be. It was too late now, not just because of their respective spouses, but also because Christine had not been able to remain faithful. Even if for some reason she could ever free herself from the Vicomte, he would never be able to trust her again. Not even when...
Erik sighed. He knew that Amanda-Ann's days were counted. Despite his and Mr. Stanton's loving care, their dear girl would not live much longer. A year, maybe two, the doctor had told them. Her illness was running its course. He would soon be free again, free to marry another woman. But deep in his heart he knew that would never happen. Apart from the fact that no other woman would want him, he knew that no one would ever be able to chase the image of Christine from his heart, the way he had once thought her to be, innocent, loving, faithful.
It was really better that she left. As painful as it would be to see her go, it was also a relief. She would be gone, and thus not able to disturb his peace again. The farther away she was, the better his chances would be of getting over the pain she had caused him and of, maybe, one day forgetting her.
Erik's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the de Chagnys.
"Dear Monsieur Givenould," Raoul greeted Erik enthusiastically, "what a huge success yesterday's recital was! Everybody is enthusiastic about my Christine's voice and interpretation!" He put his arm around his wife's waist, pulling her close, his hand once again very openly caressing her buttocks.
"It was better than I feared," Erik commented dryly. "But then, the event was appealing to the ones that like the extraordinary. We here in London do not normally have a Vicomtesse on our stages. We use trained singers, professionals."
Christine felt like dying. At that moment she did not know which of the two men present she hated more, Raoul, whose hand was still cupping her buttocks in front of Erik, or Erik, who insulted her like that.
Raoul laughed. "You just want to make sure my wife accepts a smaller fee for her performance next time," he accused Erik. "You know, we will be back in about a year's time for another concert. I cannot allow Christine to perform in public back home, but here... well, let's say, it could be called an eccentricity. Since we will have to come back anyway to check your productions to see if we can use your new ones for Paris, I might as well allow her another concert. You would love that, Lotte, wouldn't you?" he asked.
Christine nodded. "Yes," she mumbled obediently.
"Good! Then we should sign the contract that I prepared last night, before we leave." He looked around for his briefcase and realized annoyed that he had left it in the carriage. "I will be back right away," he announced, his eyes throwing daggers at Christine as if it were her fault that he had forgotten the bag. "Don't you dare disobeying my orders," he hissed at her menacingly.
The door had barely closed behind Raoul, when Erik started to laugh. "I hope you are happy in your marriage," he told Christine sarcastically. "I see that you got everything you ever wished for, a handsome husband, loving and gentle, money, a title, a position..."
"How dare you!" Christine's patience was at an end. "How dare you mock me like that, you unfaithful bastard!" she screamed at Erik.
"Unfaithful? Me?" Erik's voice was dripping with barely concealed anger. "You of all People have the guts to accuse me of being unfaithful, because I allowed a kind, innocent, angelic girl to try and heal my broken heart?"
"Your broken heart, right," Christine countered, deeply hurt. "I had never thought I would hear you lie like that, but then, why should I be surprised? That's the story you told your wife, is it not? That the woman you wanted to marry had left you. Maybe you have told her this story so often that by now you believe it yourself, but it could not be further from the truth."
Erik could not look at her. Her eyes were swimming in tears and she looked more beautiful than ever. "There is no point in continuing this conversation, Vicomtesse," he said coldly, pretending to check some paperwork on his desk, in order to compose himself again, "since you obviously have a distorted idea of the truth."
Christine's laughter was boarding on hysteric when she replied, "I know what I am talking about, but have no fear, Monsieur Givenould, I will not bother you with my feelings on that matter ever again. I finally know your true personality now." She spit out his name as if it were an insult. How dared he! He who had caused her misery by getting engaged with another woman, who had practically delivered her into the hands of the lecherous Vicomte by deserting her for Amanda-Ann! It was his fault that she now was Raoul's property.
When Raoul came back a few minutes later, he found his wife and the former Phantom staring at each other with hate, both rather agitated, trying without much success to appear calm.
Raoul smiled. He liked what he saw. Hopefully his wife would now finally stop to pine for that ugly freak and appreciate himself more.
"I am sorry for making you wait, my dear," he said, kissing Christine on the forehead. Then he pulled the contract he had prepared out of his briefcase and began to discuss details with Erik.
About half an hour later Raoul and Christine left, and Erik was alone with his thoughts.
Xxx
"I would like to say good-bye to Madame Givenould as well," Christine pleaded with Raoul, once they had left the theater. "She is such a dear person."
In the relative privacy of the carriage, Raoul's fingers slipped down Christine's cleavage and teased one of her nipples. "What for?" he asked, "would you like to compare notes with her on the sexual prowess of that freak?"
Christine closed her eyes. "You know that there never was anything of that sort between me and Monsieur Givenould," she reminded Raoul. "I was a virgin when ..." She did not finish. She did not want to think of the things Raoul liked doing to her naked body.
Raoul laughed. "Just because you did not allow him between your legs does not mean the two of you did not have fun together," he sneered. "There are other ways. I bet you did all sorts of things together.."
Christine did not reply. It was useless. Raoul would not believe her anyway.
"Well, I will be generous and allow you to go see this wife of his," Raoul told her, "and the two of you can gush over his manly body as much as you want, but only if you will be my good little wife tonight on the train..."
Christine nodded. He would try to use her body anyway, and as her husband he had the right to do so. What was the use of fighting him?
Xxx
Amanda-Ann was pleased to see Christine one last time before the latter's departure. She had insisted on sitting in the parlor, waiting for her new friend, even though she felt rather exhausted after last night's long concert.
"I am so glad, you could come and see me before you leave," she told Christine. "It is such a pity that we are living so far apart. You are my first true friend. I would so love to see you more often, to discuss operas with you and hear you sing!"
"I will come back next year," Christine promised. "I just signed a contract for another concert with your husband, when Raoul and I went to take our leave from him."
Amanda-Ann smiled. "How wonderful!" she exclaimed. "That way we will be able to see each other again in the not too distant future! And maybe, since I am so much stronger now, Erik and I can visit you as well! Maybe we could see an opera in Paris together, since your husband is the patron of the Opéra Populaire."
Christine nodded. "That would be lovely," she agreed, although she thought that Amanda-Ann looked weaker and paler than she had ever seen her, and she had her doubts the young woman would even be alive the next time she and Raoul would come to London.
"I am so looking forward to "Hannibal"," Amanda-Ann continued. "I just learned that we will take over your production soon. The aria you sang yesterday was the highlight of the evening. Such a sad piece, but so moving!"
She shyly glanced at Christine. "Will you not be upset with me if I ask you something very personal?" she whispered.
"What is it you want to know?" Christine asked, slightly on alert.
"That song, Elyssa's aria," Amanda-Ann began, "a woman knowing that her love has no future, that … I mean it sounded so real, when you sang it. You... you have been in such a situation yourself,or a similar one, have you not? There was someone you loved very much, but … for some reason it was not possible, you had to part ways. You do not love your husband, you married him because he can provide for you, but your heart... am I right?"
Christine was fighting back tears. How had Amanda-Ann guessed that? Had she really let her own feelings carry her away that much last night? Had everybody in the audience guessed as much as Amanda-Ann? Who else had discovered her secret – Raoul, Erik?
"You do not have to tell me," Amanda-Ann continued. "I understand that this is a deeply personnel question and none of my concern. It's just, some people, even my husband, accuse you of being cold, but I know that you are not. You are warm and friendly. I think you ave built this facade around you to protect yourself, your true self, to hide the pain that you feel when thinking of your lost love."
Christine looked up. "You are very perceptive," she mumbled.
Suddenly she felt Amanda-Ann's thin arms around her. "I am so sorry," Erik's wife whispered. "I wish I could help you. I wish you could be as happy as I am, with the man you love. I do not know what happened and you do not have to tell me, and I certainly do not know how I could have lived on if my Erik had not returned my feelings or if for some reason or other we could not have married. I can therefore totally imagine how you feel." And Amanda-Ann began to cry over her friend's sad situation.
Christine was alarmed. It had not been her intention to agitate the sickly woman in front of her. Despite everything, she did like Amanda-Ann. In a way that poor woman was just as much a victim as herself, and Christine wondered which of them Erik had betrayed more: her, for getting engaged to Amanda-Ann, or his wife, for lying to her about his love.
But Christine also knew that she was the stronger one of them. That she was able to deal with her fate, no matter how hard it was. Amanda-Ann, on the other hand, would break if she ever found out that Erik only loved her like a sister. Or worse, if she found out about his past. And it was certainly not healthy for Amanda-Ann to get so agitated.
Christine therefore quickly extricated herself from Amanda-Ann's embrace. "How silly of me," she said, trying to sound cheerful. "To talk of such sad things on our last day together. We should be enjoying this time together as real friends do. There is so much to life that we can enjoy, other than love. Music, for one thing,the beauty of nature, friendship..."
Amanda-Ann was smiling now. "You are right,"she exclaimed. "There is a lot to love about life. Like for instance, we will be putting on "Hannibal" in my theater soon. Will you tell me a little bit about the story, and maybe hum one or two memorable melodies to me?"
And for the remainder of Christine's visit the two ladies only talked about opera.
Xxxx
The next few weeks were full of work for Erik. He had to oversee rehearsals for Hannibal and once the sets and costumes arrived he had to make sure they were all properly adapted so that the backdrops and scenery would fit on the stage and the lovely, colorful costumes would fit the respective singers. At the same time he was working on the designs for the next production he had in mind. Since "Hannibal" was a rather tragic play, he had decided to put on something more humorous next. He had chosen Rossini's "Barbiere di Siviglia" and hoped his wife would like it. Happy, fun pieces were what he wanted her to see, that could make her smile and make whatever days were left to her full of fun and joy.
She seemed so subdued to him lately, once again much weaker than she had been right after their wedding and he was worried. When he asked Amanda-Ann, she evaded his questions, until one day she confessed to him that she could not stop thinking about her poor friend Christine, the only friend she had ever had and who was now so far away.
"And I know she would need a friend," Amanda-Ann told him. "She is not happy, I know. Fate has not been kind to her, and I have a feeling as if she had nobody she can confide in. Certainly not that husband of hers. In fact, I suspect he is part of her problems. He is always hovering near her and pretending to swoon over her, but he looks at her as if he were stripping her naked with his eyes." She shook her head. "I don't know what it is. I think he does not respect her. Maybe because she has been a singer. I read a novel once where it was mentioned that theater people are considered to have low moral standards. Maybe that's why he treats her that way. But if that is his opinion, why did he marry her then? If he thinks her so far beneath him?"
Erik sighed. He hated to be reminded of Christine and her strange marriage. "You should not think too much about this," he told his wife. "You do not know what is really going on between these two. She does not seem to have a problem with the way he treats her, and while I have to admit that he is not one of my favorite people, and if I were a girl I would not want him anywhere near me, and most certainly would not have married him, she obviously must have had her reasons for doing so. If she is not happy with her decision, we cannot help her. It is her own doing, my love. And she has to live with the consequences of her actions."
Amanda-Ann nodded. "I know," she agreed. "But still, I wish I could help her somehow. I wish I could do something that makes her happy, makes her smile."
"You are such a sweet girl, my love," Erik mumbled, moved by her words. "You find it in you to pity a woman who gave up everything just to end up in the bed of a handsome, rich, titled man, even if he does not treat her with respect."
Amanda-Ann looked startled. Something in Erik's voice had caught her attention. "You know more about her?" she asked hesitantly.
Erik realized that he had not been careful enough. He quickly shook his head and forced a smile on his face. "I just guessed," he explained. "You are right, the two de Chagnys are an odd couple and it is hard to imagine that they are happily married, but then, I do not think anybody forced them into that marriage, actually, I am fairly certain that the Vicomte's family is not happy at all with his choice. Maybe that is why he treats her that way, because his family wants him to do so. Who knows? Maybe this is just an act they put on in public to satisfy the French nobility, or whatever. I am just saying, we do not know what is really going on and therefore it is a moot point to worry about them!"
Amanda-Ann accepted that explanation. But even though what Erik had said sounded plausible to her, she could not stop feeling sorry for her friend, for deep down she knew that she was right, that Christine de Chagny was not happy.
