Author's Note: And the second half of the double update. I was planning on doing a triple update to catch up, but I'm afraid I need my sleep. Sorry this one's a bit short, but I couldn't think of a way to make it longer without being repetitive at this point in the story. I will make up for it by making the next few chapters a bit more interesting - I just needed to tidy up a few loose ends first. Thanks for bearing with me. Enjoy! Nedjmet.

Disclaimer: The characters and plotline of the Phantom of the Opera on which this story is based are – to the best of my knowledge – the property of Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. Nor do I own any of the songs or music used or referred to within this story. No infringement of copyright is intended nor is this story written for profit as I have the greatest respect for their work.

Chapter 36

"You are early, child. Your enthusiasm is admirable. And what is this? You packed. You were planning to stay longer than usual?" Her angel greeted her with amusement in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Angel."

"And why should you be sorry, child?"

"About being early. I didn't want to inconvenience you."

"You could never be an inconvenience, Christine." She smiled at the sound of her name spoken with such warmth by him. "But that does not tell me why you have brought luggage."

"I'm staying with the Girys for a few days. I was going to head over there after our lesson. Madame didn't want me to be too late, that's why I came early."

"Oh? You do not see enough of them during the week?" Was that a hint of jealousy? Why would he be jealous of her spending more time with women?

"Apparently I live in the house that belongs to the resident ghost, and Halloween is one of those times when he is remembered. Mother Giry did not think it would be safe for me to stay there for the next few days."

"Of course." He managed evenly, through clenched teeth.

Damn this place! How could he have forgotten the tradition? Of course: he usually stayed in his lair – unless he was tempted to live up to his reputation a little. He had not had to worry about anyone else before. That meant that for however long Giry deemed it necessary, Christine would be out from under his watch. Once again, he found himself cursing his adopted charade. Had he found a way to present himself to Christine as himself before now, he could have been the one to look after her instead . . . she could have stayed with him . . . he would not have had to share her with anyone for several days at least . . .

"Angel?" Her tentative voice broke his train of thought.

"I am still here, child. Let us begin." He had to find a way. And soon.

The girls were settled securely on the couch. In honour of Christine's first night back under the Giry roof – and ONLY the first night – Meg had persuaded her mother to allow them one tub of ice cream whilst they watched a film. The real fun would begin at the weekend when they didn't have school to worry about. It had been a struggle to get the brownies hidden away without Meg knowing; but Christine and Madame had been playing that game for years now, so they had it down pat. After double checking that her two daughters were well and truly distracted, Antoinette stepped out into the back garden.

"They had a break a few minutes ago, they won't move from there for a while. Be quick nevertheless." She said in a low voice to the shadows.

"Halloween is not until the weekend. The 'festivities' will not start before then. Why did you have her move out now?" Answered the more solid of the shadows.

"I did not want her to be caught by any early celebrations." She replied, turning to face him.

"Do not lie to me, Madame." Came the steely response, prompting indignation in the ballet mistress.

"It is the truth. You saw the meeting today?" She continued, seeing how unsatisfactory her answer was.

"Yes." Apparently he had seen much, for she had not heard him so instantly subdued before. She elaborated, her voice thickening with her narrative.

"Her father died in a fire, but not straight away. He suffered badly from burns. It was not until the third day that he finally died. Christine never left him in all that time. Since the funeral, she has suffered from nightmares. It used to be every night, until we learnt the things that triggered them off."

"Such as?" His curiosity was piqued once again as he learnt more about his pupil.

"Fire. Darkness – unexpected darkness anyway – and anything that reminds her of her father's death. Today she relived a part of what happened. She will have the nightmares again tonight. Meg cannot distract her from them that much." She answered with resignation.

"So you brought her here? Did you not think I would be able to help? I am her angel, after all." He spoke with such pride. What effect had Christine had over him?

"I do not know the influence you have over her, but unless I can be certain that it is strong enough, I must insist upon this. The only thing to be done when she has one of her nightmares is to wake her, which is no easy task. Meg and I are used to it. She has not seen you?"

"No." He replied, realising the futility of his argument and yet again regretting at least one aspect of the situation he was in.

"How bad are these nightmares?" He asked, returning to the concern that he had brought him here – even though the place was off limits unless Giry was alone.

"She will scream herself hoarse before she will wake herself. Until her voice showed signs of healing, the doctors thought the nightmares would cause her to lose it altogether."

"Why does she not wake of her own accord?"

"The nightmares are horrific because they come from her memories of what happened, but they are about her father. Part of her does not want to wake because of that."

He closed his eyes in thought.

"Find me tomorrow morning. She has a lesson in the afternoon." She heard what he would not ask. It seemed the Ghost still had pride, even when Christine was concerned.

"Very well. How will you manage the lessons now?"

"I have found a way."

He disappeared back into the shadows. Antoinette returned to the two girls who were laughing away at the film. She only wished their easy mirth could get them through the night. She wondered once more at the relationship her second daughter had struck up with the Ghost. She knew he would not conduct their lessons in the light. How had he managed to ease her troubles on the matter?

Perhaps she should have let Christine stay at the house after all. Certainly he seemed to have a gift for calming her which neither she nor Meg could boast in spite of their long acquaintance. Maybe he could have found a way to calm her without disturbing her sleep further. She wondered about what would happen, should he choose to end this latest illusion of his. If he found the right way, she did not think Christine would be too disappointed – but only IF he found the right way.

But then, he was her angel. And angels didn't take on physical forms to that extent, did they?