Chapter 5: Taxi!
Meg was not the least bit upset about her place in Raoul's arms. She had objected slightly, as she had wanted to talk business with him and Erik while they had the chance, but had since decided that this was much nicer. Raoul was an excellent dancer. Her short heals leveled out their heights for the most part, only leaving a couple inches of difference.
"I'm sorry we're leaving town tonight," Raoul sighed, glancing back to Erik and Christine. He couldn't tell, but it looked as though they had moved closer together.
Meg shrugged. "It doesn't matter. We're leaving tomorrow anyway."
"Where are you going?" He asked, looking back at her.
"Maine. Christine has family there," Meg said. "It should be beautiful, with all that snow."
"Yes," Raoul said. All thoughts of Erik and Christine were suddenly far from thought. All his thoughts went towards Meg. "You know something?"
"What?" Meg murmured, looking as equally as lost in Raoul's gaze as he was in hers.
"Maine should be beautiful this time of year, with all that snow," he said, his voice cracking.
Meg giggled and brushed her thumb over his hand. "That's what I just said."
Raoul blinked and then flushed, "We seem to be getting a little mixed up."
A warm breeze drifted in through some patio doors that were propped open.
"Let's get some fresh air," Raoul suggested, spinning her out the doors.
"You're a very good dancer," Meg said as he twirled her around the patio. Magnolia trees swayed in the wind, stirring the wind to dance just as the two people outside were.
"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself," he teased.
"I've been dancing my whole life," Meg said with a breathless laugh. "My mama was a ballet dancer."
"You've certainly inherited her grace," Raoul said, pulling Meg a little closer when a cool gust of air made her shiver. "Let's see what you've got."
After that they were a blur of lavender and grey fabric, mixed with a dash of blonde hair. Luckily all the hairspray Christine had layered on was doing its job and not a hair was out of place when they finished their tango, with Meg perched on Raoul's knee, toe pointed and arm draped elegantly around his neck.
"That was really something," Raoul said, breathing heavily.
"It was," Meg said with a smile. She pulled herself up so their faces were closer, but was interrupted by Christine.
"What's this, the best two out of three?" She snapped from the door.
"I'm sorry I just got carried away," Meg sighed, standing up. She dusted off her dress and smiled at Christine, was was standing with her arms crossed.
"And s-she carried me right along with her. I'm very light," Raoul stammered, his voice cracking slightly.
"Uh-huh," She sniffed. "Come on, Meg. We have to get ready for the last number."
She grabbed her hand and started to pull away when the sound of someone clearing their throat came from behind them. They turned in unison and saw Firmin standing there awkwardly.
"The sheriff's here," he said. "He has a warrant to arrest the two of you."
"The sheriff?" Raoul asked. "What's wrong?"
"Our landlady is trying to say we put a nasty ding in the wall and is trying to charge us to repair it," Meg said with a sigh, avoiding Raoul's gaze.
He glanced at Christine and she fiddled with her wrap but looked up at him.
"And we snuck our bags out of our room," she said, clearly disappointed in their behavior. "Please don't think less of us for it."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Raoul assured her. "Where are your bags now?"
"In our dressing room," Meg said. "I am sorry-"
"Don't worry about it honey. Just go and pack. Erik and I will handle this."
"No, no, I can't- wecan't… Mr. Destler said-" Christine sputtered but Raoul cut her off.
"Don't worry about what that old curmudgeon said," Raoul said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We like to take care of our friends."
"We're practically strangers!" Christine objected.
"We plan to take care of that as well," Raoul said, pushing her and Meg towards the doors.
"Why are you doing this? What's in it for you besides a load of trouble?" Meg asked.
"One hour to do whatever I want," Raoul said. "Now go!"
Then he turned to Firmin who was still standing there. "Stall him as long as you can."
"What do I say?" he asked in a panicky tone. "André's in there now."
"Oh, I don't know," Raoul said and then snapped his fingers. "Tell him the girls have to finish their act."
"Alright. I don't know how much longer I can stall him for though."
"We just need at least five minutes," Raoul called over his shoulder. He was already darting back towards Erik, who was glowering into a glass of wine. "Erik! The girls are in a pinch and they need our help."
"Why us? Why don't they call-"
"Because we're here now and we're friends. It's what friends do," he insisted, dragging him backstage.
"We hardly know them!" Erik protested once Raoul explained the situation. He did want to help, but he didn't feel like getting mixed up in legal business right then. "Why don't we just pay the lady what she's asking."
"And give into her lies?" Raoul whispered furiously, gesturing towards André and Firmin's office door. "No! The girls just need a few more minutes to pack and get out. You go and find a taxi and send it around back."
"But-"
"Go, Erik!" Raoul whispered shouted, pushing him towards the door, but Erik had suddenly turned to stone.
"Give me one good reason why."
"Just say we're doing it for a pal in the army," Raoul said. Erik sniffed but slipped out the back door. Raoul hurried towards the dressing room door. He beat on it furiously till Christine let him in.
"We're almost packed," she said. The room was a mess. Clothes were everywhere, various knickknacks and beauty products lay scattered on every surface. He helped them throw it into the nearest piece of luggage.
"Get on the first train you see," Raoul said as Meg tossed him her costume.
"Our tickets aren't good till tomorrow," Christine said, nerves biting at her stomach.
"Tickets…" Raoul murmured and reached into his pockets. "Take these."
"We can't take your tickets!" Meg protested tossing him a sweater which he tossed into the same case as the costume. A honk sounded from out back and he pushed them towards the windows.
"Don't worry about it," Raoul said. "Take them." They clambered out, suitcases in hand, still clad in their dinner finery. Christine took them and looked up at Raoul.
"Are you sure? What will Mr. Destler think?" She asked.
"Sweet heart it was his idea now please get in the cab!" Raoul begged, glancing at the door.
"Are you sure he won't think it was because I think you're handsome?" Christine asked. Raoul flushed and Meg's heart clenched. "Not really I mean just-"
"He won't, I promise now take them and go!" Raoul cried.
"Our records-" Christine started but Raoul waved her into the car.
"We'll get them to you," he insisted and she didn't argue, piling into the taxi after Meg.
As they drove off, Meg whispered to Christine, "What do you think he meant by we'll get them to you?"
"He'll probably mail them," she replied, slumping back in her seat. She opened her hand bag to tuck the tickets in and felt a piece of fabric. She pulled it out and suppressed a gasp, so she wouldn't draw Meg's attention to it. In the moonlight she could make out the initials E.W. neatly stitched into the corner of the dark silk.