Hey guys. Thank you so much for the reviews and follows and faves etc! I know i say this a lot and that it's probably getting boring but it really makes my day when i get an email telling me that someone likes my writing! I mean... its not as if i invented the characters or anything... but still! Many thanks.
Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.
Onward!
Erik looked at Christine once more, a sad smile upon his face. It was too late. They had taken too long...
"Open up!" The voice sounded again. "It is the Police!"
The Police! The Gendarmerie!
Amid all the confusion and chaos he had almost completely forgotten about the Police. Perhaps this was because subconsciously he had believed them to be the smaller threat. This would at least mean that they would have more time to deal with the other problem; potentially, the larger problem. He had evaded The Police for years but this note and whoever had sent it was still shrouded in mystery... he did not like that. He had evaded The Police for years... but that was when he had had somewhere to hide; a sanctuary per se. He knew very well that no one would dare seek him out in the cellars of the Opera... but here? This was just a house. He had not had the means, nor had he the time to convert it into a veritable safeguarded fortress as he had with the Opera. He was a self-proclaimed magician, yes, but even a man with Erik's skill set could not turn a house into something it was not in a matter of seconds.
He looked to Madame Giry; alarm clearly evident on his face. She was their only hope as neither Erik nor Christine could afford to be seen by the Police if they wished to remain where they were.
"Go." She said quietly, as if reading his thoughts. "Both of you go. Go and hide."
"Thank you Madame." He said, his eyes speaking more than his words ever could. Erik took Christine by the hand immediately and rushed up the stairs, as far away from the unwelcome guests as he could get.
"Where are we going to hide?" She whispered.
Panic struck him when the realization dawned on him. He didn't know. Once more he was stranded without the faintest inkling of a plan.
"I... I..." Erik attempted to reply as they reached the top of the stairs. He couldn't think fast enough for as soon as they had reached the top floor, Madame Giry opened the front door. Erik pulled Christine out of sight just in time for the Gendarmerie entered the small house mere seconds later. He held her tightly to him and she held onto him as if there was nothing else, as if they were back in that cavern under the Opera...
She tugged at his jacket to get his attention.
What do we do? She mouthed desperately.
"Good evening Madame." A loud voice from downstairs echoed up through the now darkened stairwell to reach their ears.
"Good evening." Madame Giry replied. "Please, come in." Erik knew very well that they had already entered the house and that she was simply attempting to update him on the situation.
"...Yes." The gendarme was clearly beguiled at her offer when he and his men were already inside the house.
"What can I do for you?" She asked purposefully.
"My name is Inspector Gilles, Madame..."
"Madame Giry."
"Do you live here, Madame? Is this your house?"
"This... is my house, yes. What can I do for you?" She repeated.
"Oh, just routine I assure you. We are searching for someone. Have you heard about the Opera? What happened there last night?"
"...No... I very rarely visit the Opera and I haven't been to fetch the paper in a few days... What happened?"
For a brief moment, Erik doubted the loyalty of Madame Giry. Of course, she cared for Christine dearly but there had been times over the years when he had doubted his own relationship with the woman.
As the conversation bore on downstairs, Erik he began to doubt the loyalty of Madame Giry. She cared for Christine dearly but was that enough?
She has always safeguarded your secret.
Erik began to doubt himself. She had always been good to him but there were times over the years when he may have been so far removed from the goings on at the Opera to really notice. And surely, anyone's resolve could waver when and if they were threatened by the Police...
He began to reason with himself. She would never betray him, especially not when Christine was at stake. Surely he was just being paranoid because he had so much to lose. His mind was running wild with macabre possibilities that would never come to fruition. She would not betray him. Of course she wouldn't.
"There was an incident." The conversation continued downstairs.
"An incident? What kind of an incident?"
"Well... A man killed a lot of people last night. The man we are searching for... He allegedly dropped a chandelier in the auditorium which set the whole building ablaze. It seems far fetched, I know. No one could believe it... No one saw it coming... It was said that he had kidnapped the lead soprano too..."
"Really! How awful." Madame Giry feigned disbelief. "Do you know what he looked like?"
"Well you see; that is the easy part. He is deformed; one side of his face is complete completely distorted. It's quite hard to miss."
"Yes." Madame Giry sat down on a nearby chair, apparently quite emotional about the whole thing. "Awful. Just awful... But, how can I be of assistance?"
"We were just checking nearby houses for sightings. Any smart man would have left the city by now but you never know with these people..." He walked towards her.
"Haven't seen anyone... strange lately, have you?"
Upstairs, Christine was getting increasingly panicked by the second. She kept pulling at Erik's clothing, attempting to get his attention but to no avail. He was frozen with fear. Not necessarily fear of the Gendarmerie but fear of what they could take away from him. For once, he had something to lose... and it was everything. Usually, he was quick to action and he thrived under pressure such as this but tonight, he couldn't seem to think clearly. His thoughts had seized up and all he could think about was losing Christine. Losing her after everything they had gone through to get here.
One particularly jarring pull by Christine seemed to set his thoughts back on track. He looked down at her, questioningly. After finally getting his attention she began gesticulating rather angrily towards a cupboard at the end of the hall. It was only a broom cupboard, but it would have to do. They would have to fit. They would have to make no noise. They would have to stay hidden. This had to work. It had to...
As quietly as they could they walked towards it. Then, praying to whichever all-powerful entity was listening that the door to the cupboard wouldn't squeak; Erik turned the handle and began pulling it open. Everything depended upon this door; His whole life, Christine, his future.
With the utmost care he pulled the door open, wondering whether each second would be his last with her. He gestured for Christine to slip inside before he followed. With the same amount of precision, he pulled the door closed again. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. They were now in complete darkness. None of the candles or lamps had been lit upstairs and none of the light from downstairs would reach as far as the cupboard.
Silence; all that could be heard was their breathing, heavy but controlled for fear of being heard, and the muted conversation downstairs. They waited...
"Strange...? Why, no Inspector. I don't believe I have seen anyone at all in the past few days."
"I see..." He mused, walking to the unlit fireplace and pulling at his waxed mustache as he went. "You weren't thinking of going anywhere at this late hour, were you Madame?"
"...No. Why do you ask Monsieur?"
"Well... That horse outside." He turned back to Madame Giry and pointed to the window. "He is saddled... do you always leave your horses saddled?" She inwardly cringed at his question.
"No... I... Just got home." She answered, thinking quickly. Foolishly she had left her horse out in the open when she had arrived.
"Ah. Do you think it wise to leave your horse saddled and out in the open?"
"No... I... Of course not. I will see to him as soon as you leave, Inspector."
Inspector Gilles walked closer to Madame Giry, his boots on the hardwood floor; the only sound as he closed the gap between them.
"Madame, is this your house?" He asked quietly.
"Yes, of course." she replied, innocently. Inspector Gilles carefully studied her face for a moment.
"Check the house." He said, emotionless.
Upstairs, Christine remained close to Erik.
"I'm scared." She whispered.
"Don't be, Môn ange. They are the Police. If they find us, they will only take me away."
"That's what I'm afraid of." She said. Being careful not to disturb any of the objects surrounding her in the broom cupboard she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Why can't the world just let us be? Why can't we just live?" She began to cry into his chest.
"I don't know." He replied softly, pulling her close. If only she knew how many times he had asked the same question. He had asked it in his mind, he had shouted it to the heavens... he had prayed and begged to be like everyone else; just to be left alone. But he knew that it could never be.
"Shh. It will be alright." He soothed, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
Then, she whispered the words he thought that he would never hear.
"I love you..."
Erik's breath caught in his chest and it felt as though his heart had stopped.
"Christine, I..." He stopped speaking he heard footsteps approaching the stairs.
Madame Giry did her best to remain calm at his words.
"Oh yes, please, check the house if you wish." She said, again warning Erik who no doubt waited upstairs with bated breath.
They began to search the first floor first. Madame Giry realized then that if she did not do something, he would be found. She continued with her fabrication; hoping that something she said would pique the Inspector's interest.
"My husband Jules... he died. This was his house. Not mine... I shouldn't call it mine. Although I suppose that it is now, isn't it?"
"Jules, you say? Jules Giry?" Inspector Gilles spun around. Could it have worked?
"...Yes."
"Jules Giry of Bourneville?" His eyes widened.
"I... We used to live there, yes. A long time ago."
"My word, Madame. My father used to speak of Jules Giry! Your husband was a mason, was he not?"
"Yes..."
"Yes! Then he must have been the very same. He and my father were good friends many years ago. On more than one occasion during my childhood I had been regaled with tales consisting of 'Jules and I...'" He laughed and a nostalgic glaze misted over his eyes. "My father spoke very highly of him."
"Oui." Madame Giry glanced at the stairs anxiously and spoke absentmindedly. "He was a good man." By now one of the Inspector's men was climbing the stairs and she was beginning to wonder how this conversation would actually help her.
Erik could not believe the impossibly bad timing of the situation. Christine had declared her feelings for him. She had finally said the words and in a few moments it could all be taken away from him. Perhaps that had been the only reason she had said the words...? No matter. He did not care. She had said them! She had said them and he wanted nothing more than to respond; to tell her that he had loved her for longer than she knew! That he loved her with every fiber of his being. That he used to wake in the middle of the night, in physical pain at the thought of never being with her; never having her as his own! He wanted to say all these things, he wanted to shout them from the roof top, he wanted to whisper them intimately; lovingly into her ear but he could do none of those things. He had to remain absolutely still as he heard footsteps approaching and then climbing the stair well to the second floor...
All he could do to tell her of his feelings was hold her. He held her tight; tighter than he ever had and to his surprise she returned the embrace with mirrored intensity. All he could do was wait; wait for her to be taken from him or for a miracle to occur. In his experience miracles either did not exist... or stayed well away from him.
Madame Giry watched the Inspector's man as he climbed the stairs. It was only a matter of time before he would reach the top floor. Every step he took worked to seal the fate of Erik. He did not deserve this. He had done many bad things in his life but she had spent enough time with him to know that at his core he was a bad person... This was his chance to turn his life around, to redeem himself, to find happiness at last. Each step the man took was a nail in his coffin. He wondered how much longer he would have; how much longer they would have.
The man had almost reached the top when much to her shock and relief, Inspector Gilles called out. "Enough, men! You can come back!" She looked at him, still attempting to retain her composure.
"But we haven't searched everywhere yet, Inspector!" A small voice called from the kitchen area.
"Enough, I said!" He looked to Madame Giry. "I don't believe that you would hide anything from us, Madame. Your Jules was an honorable man. God rest his soul." Inspector Gilles crossed himself at these words.
"Thank you." She said quietly, completely overwhelmed by the complete and utter share of luck she had somehow been allotted tonight.
"Sorry to have bothered you, Madame. Please contact us if you do happen to see anything." He turned towards the door. "Come on men."
"No trouble at all. I will be sure to let you know. I do hope that you find him." She said, feigning concern as she opened the door for the Gendarmerie.
"Oh, and be sure to lock this tonight." Inspector Gilles tapped on the door as he walked outside. "A night like tonight certainly calls for extra security measures with a killer like that on the loose."
"I will. Thank you, Inspector." She smiled with what energy she had left. "Goodnight!"
"Bonsoir, Madame. Do make sure to see to that horse!"
"Yes, I will. Bonsoir!"
As soon as they had turned away, she closed the door and locked it. She found that she could not stand and collapsed against the door. Part of her could not fathom what had just happened. How had she been graced with such luck? She had been sure that Erik was doomed... and yet...
Slowly she rose and walked upstairs. She opened the door to the broom cupboard to find Christine and Erik in a tight embrace.
"They are gone." She said, exhausted.
