…At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places,
Have begun to hope once more, when they start their vigil
For hands still enfolded in sleeves;
When wine being poured makes the sound
of inconsolable children
who, though you try with all your heart,
cannot be soothed.
When whatever you want to do cannot be done,
When nothing is of any use;
- At this hour when night comes down,
When night comes, dragging its long face,
Dressed in mourning,
Be with me,
My tormenter, my love, be near me.
-"Be Near Me" by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
""""
The sarcastic voice was loud and harsh in the darkness and with a shriek, I whirled toward it. The lantern slipped from my grasp and shattered on the ground with a pop, joining the ranks of debris and plunging me into total darkness. Panic seized me and my feet took me backwards, pressing my back against the mirror which cracked even further with the added weight. My mind whirled through endless possibilities as I stood waiting in the dark, each one more terrifying and ridiculous than the last. I cursed myself for a fool, but prayed for his voice to ring out in the black, to feel it caress me once again. It was still silken against me, though it was tinged with harsh bitterness. His voice could always make me forget myself… and its sway had only grown stronger with absence. I shivered when it shot out again through the damp gloom.
"Why have you come, Christine? To claim the bounty yourself? Being married to a Vicomte, I would've thought your money troubles over." I'd never heard someone sound so exhausted.
"I'm not married," I whispered.
"Don't lie," he spat.
"I wouldn't." Though I never heard him approach, suddenly he was in front of me, his cool breath assaulting the skin on my face. I cowered into the mirror and whimpered when his hand slammed against it, the broken glass showering into my hair and onto my cloak.
"You wouldn't," he hissed into my ear. He won't hurt me… he won't hurt me. "Why, then, Christine, do you live at his grand house surrounded by other grand houses?"
My head whipped toward his face. He was so close that our noses touched, but he drew back in surprise. "That was you outside my window," I said in triumph.
I couldn't even hear him breathe. It was so dark it seemed as if he'd vanished. Finally, he spoke again and his voice was terribly sad. "You weren't meant to see."
"Why did you come?" I whispered.
"Punishment, I suppose." The bitterness was back in his voice.
"You wanted to punish me," I nodded.
I heard a humorless chuckle. "So young." I drew in a breath to tell him I wasn't so very young when he said, "I've answered your question. Now you answer mine. What in God's name are you doing here?"
How to explain? I never expected him to be here, though I'd prayed for it. "I… I suppose I just… didn't like the way I left things for you." I hated that I couldn't see his face in the darkness. I felt so vulnerable and it seemed as though he could see my every thought as though they were written on my face. "Can't you light a candle?"
"No."
"Please? I can't see anything."
"Christine, I know you're young, but I never imagined you were this cruel. Don't you think you've destroyed me enough? Now you come here where I should think I am finally safe to taunt me. They stole my masks, Christine."
"Taunt? No, I would never! That's not why I came. I know what face is in the darkness and it doesn't frighten me anymore."
"Then you don't need the light." His voice was so definite that I dared not argue.
"You don't trust me," I said.
"Why on earth should I? Go home to your Vicomte, Christine. Before the monster steals you again." His footsteps echoed around the chamber, growing further away.
"I can't sing!" I cried out. The footsteps halted. "I haven't since Don Juan. I try, but something stops my voice before I can sing a note." There was absolute silence in the pitch black, but I could tell he was there, listening. "I'm losing my music… and whatever else you were, you were my teacher."
"What do you want?" His voice from across the chamber was laced with misery.
I'd heard in times like these, people don't know what they're saying, that instinct and action take over and they simply act on impulse. I knew exactly what I was saying. "Help me, please. Help me find my music again. I'm so lost." The words had been in my heart since I saw his shadow on my balcony.
His footsteps grew nearer and I knew he meant for me to hear him. He could move as silently as a ghost when he wished. He didn't stop until I felt the brush of fabric against my skirts. Suddenly, the harsh strike of a match sounded in the cavern, and a torch was lit beside me. His face was above me, and it was every bit as terrible as I remembered. The suddenness of its appearance and the cold grimace on its distorted features caught me unprepared and I flinched, my breath shaking with fear.
"Ask me again," he growled.
I took a deep breath and summoned my courage. I knew this face and he was no monster. When I looked up at him, I was steady. "Will you help me?"
His expression didn't change, but a cold finger, encased in soft leather, rose to touch my cheek, running a slow line down to the edge of my jaw. "You've improved your acting, mademoiselle. No one knows your face better than I, but I can't tell what you want. Is it another ambush? Are you meant to lure me out of my dungeon, into another trap?" He sounded so resigned.
"No," I said. "No."
His cool touch still on my face, we stared at each other. Me with hope, he with calculation. Finally, his arm fell with a thud to his side and, taking a step back, he shrugged. "Be here tomorrow at midday."
Relieved, but still a bit anxious to get away from this unpredictable man whom I had to get to know all over again, I didn't say anything. I glanced down at my broken lantern and then back up as the torch he was holding was thrust at me. I took it with a nod and left, though I couldn't help hearing his soft murmur, "Now I pay for my sins." My steps slowed, then quickened. I was exhausted and overwhelmed with what had just happened, and I needed time to think.
It never crossed my mind as I hailed a cab to take me back to Meg's opera house that I should never return here, to him. He was every bit as unstable as he had been the last time we'd met… but I knew that he was hurting. And I knew it was because of me. I couldn't abandon him as he was, but I was not as selfless as I tried to convince myself. My heart was lighter, my mind freer after hearing his voice. Filled with anger though that voice was, it was salve on a burn.
As the driver handed me into the cab, I thought about his final words today. Pay for his sins? He must have been convinced I would return with the gendarmes. It stung that he would see me as some angel of death, come to deliver cold justice. True, I'd been part of a plot to capture him before, but I'd been so frightened then. Frightened, confused, betrayed by the man, the angel, I'd thought would protect me and guide me. I hadn't even known he was mortal until I'd felt my love for Raoul blossoming. The phantom's sins were many, but the more I remembered my time with him, the more convinced I was that he never meant me harm.
The carriage jolted to a stop in front of the Bouffes-Parisiens earlier than I would have thought possible. My thoughts had put me into a trance and I had to fumble through my bag for the money I owed the driver. Once inside, I leaned against the door for a moment, a headache growing behind my eyes. Of course, it wasn't long before I was accosted.
"Madame!" Michele's voice assaulted me almost immediately and he rushed towards me, Meg and Madame Giry in tow. "We were so worried, we thought… well, it doesn't matter."
"Child, where have you been?" Madame Giry's voice was as flustered as I've ever heard it.
I took a deep breath and smiled sheepishly, calling on my acting experience. "I'd gotten hungry, so I just took myself to that café I loved by the Populaire. Meg, I was just telling you how much I missed their croissants, wasn't I? I'm sorry to worry you all, I hope I haven't disrupted practice."
"Christine," said Meg, "practice ended twenty minutes ago!"
My heart dropped. "It… did it? Oh my, I must have gotten lost in my own stomach!" I giggled.
Madame Giry was glaring daggers at me, though Meg just rolled her eyes. Michele clapped his hands once and said, "Well, you're safe, and that's what matters! I do hope, Madame," he turned to Madame Giry, "that this little incident won't… eh… find it's way to the Vicomte?"
Without taking her eyes from me, Madame Giry replied curtly, "Of course not."
"Wonderful! Do come back any time, Madames." He bowed to Madame Giry and me. "And I'll be sure to stock sandwiches for le Vicomtesse," Michele said in the best humor.
I laughed and said, "Thank you, monsieur."
Raoul had been locked in business meetings all day and his study was still closed when we arrived back at the house, serious male voices leaking into the hall. I glanced at the dark wood of the door and sighed as I removed my scarf and handed it to Neville. Madame Giry hadn't said a word to me on the carriage ride back, but I could feel her stare the whole way, as I felt it now in the foyer.
"Lord, I think my toes are about to fall off. I think I'm going to go soak them for a solid decade," Meg announced, heading for the kitchen. The servants hurried after her worriedly, shouting "Mademoiselle!" Like me, it was taking Meg some time to get used to being waited on and the servants didn't know quite how to reconcile it. I smiled after her, but my face fell when I turned to find Madame Giry clenching her jaw behind me.
"Christine, come," she said, leading me up the stairs.
"Will you be needing anything, Mademoiselle?" Neville asked me.
"No, Neville, thank you. We'll be back shortly and… well, we'll be back shortly." I'd almost asked for him to lay out food, but remembered just in time that I was meant to have eaten on my little adventure this afternoon. I shook my head at myself and followed Meg's mother up the stairs and into my room.
She closed the door behind me and when she turned I was surprised by the panic in her eyes. "Where were you?"
"I told you…"
"Christine, your voice is crafted by heaven, but your acting never amazed. I've known you since you were running into the backs of knees, don't lie to me." Her face was so filled with disappointment and fear that I felt my eyes begin to water. "Where were you?" My mouth opened, but I couldn't make any sound come from it. It didn't matter, she saw the truth in my eyes, just as she always had. Her eyes closed and a shaky breath left her small frame in a rush and I realized for the first time just how tiny she actually was.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled, looking at her feet.
"I told you to forget. To move on."
"I know, but Madame… I've been trying since we came here and I just can't. I try so hard, I stare at myself for hours in the mirror, making myself hoarse trying to sing. I can't remain like that, it's not living."
Her face twisted in pity and disgust. "After everything the Vicomte has done for you."
The tears finally fell from my eyes. "I never want to hurt Raoul."
"Christine, I don't know what to do. You can never go back there, you know that."
God, I hated myself. My eyes closed as my head fell back. "I have to."
Suddenly, a hard slap rung out in the room and I blinked down at Madame Giry in shock, the pain blossoming across my cheek. "Selfish child," she hissed. "Your father spoiled you because he was alone and you were his perfect little girl. I spoiled you because you were pretty and heartbreakingly sad. He spoiled you because you were beautiful and had a voice that made angels weep. Le Vicomte spoils you because he is so blinded by his love he cannot see that yours is gone."
"It isn't—"
"Of course it is, I've been watching it slip away for weeks. You are not the only person in the world, Christine. You've made a promise to a man, a man who sacrifices much to have you. The Opera Ghost is not real. The Vicomte is real."
Sobs were coming unbidden from my chest and I felt more lost and betrayed than ever. "You're right. I know you're right. I am selfish, I'm selfish and cruel and I only think of my own needs. But I will marry Raoul, I only want my music back. I'm dying without it."
"He will never forgive you."
Anger sparked within me and I grasped onto it. "You don't know him! And you don't know me as well as you think. I do love Raoul, I will marry him, but if I do not do something to fix this emptiness inside me, he will not marry me. Don't you see that? He knows I'm not myself, he knows something is wrong and it'll eat away at him, as it's already done to me. I have to do something, and this is the only way I can see."
"Are you… asking my permission to have an affair?"
My eyes went wide and I shook my head violently. "No! No, I just… I just want to sing."
"That man is no angel Christine, he is mortal. And mortal men desire more than music."
"I can't marry him, he knows that. Besides, I think there's more hatred than love in him. He doesn't want me."
Madame Giry shook her head and sighed, looking at me in pity. "You're so young," she said, echoing the phantom's words from earlier. "There's really no sense in you, is there? A dreamer all your life, I'm ashamed of myself for encouraging it all those years. If you're determined, I will help you. But this won't end with happiness, Christine. My only solace is supposing that no matter what, it never would have."
I sniffed and wiped my eyes. "You're wrong, Madame. I'm doing this with my eyes open this time, knowing who my teacher is."
"I don't want to know any more than this. I will help you, but I wash my hands of anything further. God willing, you'll see sense soon."