Chapter 4

The oil lamp spilled welcoming light upon the dingy room. Its soft glow opened Meg's eyes and she sat up in her bed, her eyes just getting used to the light. The first thing she did was look at the door, there next to it was the usual plate of food and a package.

"Oh please let this be it!" Meg pleaded to herself, padding across the room and tearing the brown paper away from what it covered. First to catch her eye was a watch; it told her that the time was 1:22. Next she laid her hands upon a blue dress, it was a plain and simple dress and not what she had been searching for. Then finally, what she had been searching for fell right into her lap. A ball of string. She gave a shriek of happiness and leapt from where she had been kneeling to the door, she would the end of the string round the handle and then hurried to her bed, she bit through the rough string and tied the other end around her frail wrist.

Meg had noticed, the night before, that the door to her room opened outwards. This meant if she tied string from the handle to herself when the door was opened it would trigger a sharp pull on her wrist and wake her instantly. He would not sneak past her again! Meg settled herself on the end of her bed, near enough to the door to be able to jump to it at a moment's notice.

- - - - -

A deep purple thorn threatened to piece the skin on Christine's finger as she squeezed the stem of a rose tightly. She was so deep in thought she hardly noticed the sharp thorn pushing its way into her finger, her mind was filled with different plans…occasionally she would discard one with the knowledge that it definitely wouldn't work.

"Christine…your finger is bleeding." Came a voice through the fog of her mind, she snapped back to her senses and immediately felt the stabbing pain in her finger. She dropped the rose to the floor and sat herself down on her bed, placing the cut finger on her lips and feeling the warm blood trickle through them. She desperately wanted the right thought to come along, and would concentrate on nothing else until it did. A warm hand brought itself to Christine's, and gently moved her hand away from her mouth. Erik wrapped her hand gently in a white cloth, and placed his gaze upon Christine's pained face. Just looking at her face made his heart jump to his throat, every moment he could feel her near him and just the knowledge that she was right there made him shiver with anticipation. She was there, she had chosen to be there, she was right there with her hand in his and her body not a metre away. He held that hand for what seemed like a lifetime, and he wished it had been for he wished he could live his lifetime with her. Erik saw Christine's eyes slowly begin to close, her eyelids fluttered between consciousness and sleep, and she let her head drop slowly to rest on Erik's shoulders. He was so close to her, he could feel her hair brushing against his cheek and her breathing against him. He laid her gently back on the bed and watched her. Though she was beautiful, it only brought grief to Erik's eyes as it was a beauty he couldn't even dream of keeping. Though he did dream of it, beautiful dreams that destroyed his when he realised their distance from reality. Christine's hand slowly slipped from his grasp as she shifted in her sleep, and he felt everything he wished for slip away from him. Erik couldn't let himself wake up from this dream just yet. He also let himself lie back on the bed, he watched Christine's chest rise and fall with her gentle breathing and matched his own to hers. There Erik lay, once again grasping Christine's hand and feeling her blood rush beneath her skin, letting himself fall into a deep sleep that matched that of the beautiful girl beside him.

- - - - -

Christine let her eyes drift open very slowly, so she could take in her surroundings carefully and make sure it was safe for her to stop "sleeping". She had never seen an angel sleep, and there one lay before her, his hand holding hers. She softly drew her hand away from his and rose to her feet. When she was not there beside Erik, he looked empty and only half there, which she supposed he must feel like everyday. Christine turned her head and dragged herself from the room, she silently prayed she would return before Erik woke up, left the room and picked the nearest corridor to explore.

She paced along, knocking on every door and hissing Meg's name at every moment. The thought struck her, as she turned yet another corner, that she couldn't remember the way back, she had left the door of the room open though, so she merely had to search for an open door. The only one in the whole of Erik's house by the looks of things. Christine skipped a couple of steps into another hallway and knocked her hand loosely on a heavy wooden door, not pausing and leaning towards the next to land an identical knock on that one.

"Me-eg…" Christine said in a sing-song voice, skipping her way down the hall. In her speed she almost missed a muffled cry from behind the stone walls, but it caught her attention. She spun on her heels and raced back up the hall, knocking and pausing at every door until eventually she struck the door of Meg's room and she was replied by an echoing banging.

"Christine! Oh Christine! It's you, thank god!" came the cry from behind the door.

"Shhh! Meg, he is sleeping. Oh don't tell me the door is locked." Poor Christine cried desperately, rattling the door handle.

"Well of course the door is locked! Did you think I was staying here for fun?" Meg chided, realising that any chances of her freedom where up in flames. She heard the exasperation in Christine's voice and softened her tone. "But don't worry, go back to the phantom…I have my own escape plan. All you have to do is give him plenty of free time to come to my room. Now go, you say he is sleeping, but for how long? You're best going back to him." Christine gave a quiet sob of defeat and began winding her way back through the passages. She had not been walking long when she collided with the shaken figure of her angel. He grasped her shoulders and looked into her eyes with his own, heavy with worry.

"Where have you been? I woke and you weren't lie-…..in the room." He quickly corrected himself, hoping that Christine had not thought much over him lying so near her. She swept his hands from off her shoulders and cast her gaze to the floor.

"I woke up, I had nothing better to do so I just went for a walk. Why do you worry? The doors are locked anyway!" Christine felt Erik's eyes burning into her. "You couldn't expect me to stay locked up in that room forever could you?" She burst out, more excuses flooding out of her mouth in order to cover the truth.

"Christine! It's three in the morning, I suggest you go back and get some more sleep." Erik suggested, taking her hand and beginning to lead her back along the passageway. He couldn't help but wonder why she had reacted so suspiciously when he has asked her where she had been. He wondered what she had seen whilst she was wandering the passage ways, it was true that all the doors in his house where locked, excluding his room and also the entrance and exit of his home, where the lake met its banks.

Only one candle was left lit in Christine's room, she was too exhausted to put it out. Erik had left her to sleep but she was too absorbed in thought, though occasionally she would catch her eyelids slowly sinking closed and have to pull herself awake. She couldn't help but try guess what Meg's plan of escape was, but she guessed it was being put into action that very moment.

- - - - -

Meg shifted gently in her sleep, her mind full of dreams about the world above, she longed to return to the opera house and as she slept she was making her best attempt at freedom. A piece of string linked her wrist to the handle of the wooden door. Footsteps could be heard in the corridor outside, that and the sweeping of a cloak. A key clicked in the lock and the handle began to turn, and as the door was pulled open, Meg was pulled instantly from her dreams.