August 6th 1892: Christine
…nine…ten…eleven…twelve. I was lying in bed, listening to the grandfather clock giving twelve melodic strikes. It was midnight. The day that would bring the decision had begun. There was no way in which I´d be able to fall asleep again. Erik had always been a person of the night, so why shouldn´t he try to come and get my child right now? Involuntarily my gaze was drawn to the window. Hadn´t I just heard a sound? What had it been, the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze or the swishing of a cloak?
Driven by a sudden restlessness I sat up. I couldn´t stay put and let my little boy be devoured by the creatures of darkness. It was my duty as a mother to be at his side, to protect him. Pushing aside my blanket with more power than necessary and coming into a sitting position at the edge of the bed I groped for my dressing gown. It was a beautiful piece of clothing, made of white silk. Raoul had given it to me on my last birthday.
"Oh Raoul…", I breathed miserably. My other hand made its way to the empty place next to the spot where my head had rested before. How I wished my husband was here now! He had even tried to cancel his business trip to Oslo because he wanted to be at home on his son´s birthday. Yet it had been impossible.
He had left yesterday in the early afternoon. I did not often lose my composure these days for I had learned how to behave as a countess, but it the moment of his departure I hadn´t been able to hold myself back. "Don´t go, Raoul!", I had cried, clinging to his arm like a little child. "Don´t leave me alone!" He had only looked at me in mild surprise. "You are not alone.", he had pointed out at me gently. "Jacqueline and Marielle are here, and if something extraordinary happens, you can always ask Meg or Mme.Giry for help."
Would the disappearance of Philippe be extraordinary enough to justify sending a message to Norway even? The question had been on the tip of my tongue, but I hadn´t uttered it. Instead, I had tried to pull myself together and act like the woman of twenty-eight years that I was . I had got over such a long time of keeping my promise locked away in the far corner of my heart, so it would have been foolish to put everything at stake at the last minute. Telling Raoul about it would have been even more stupid than telling Meg. My best friend was a sensible person, whereas my husband lost every bit of reason when it came to Erik. I could understand this attitude perfectly, but I also knew that Raoul would probably grab a pistol or something similar and storm into the lair, only to be killed before he could say a word.
With this knowledge in the back of my mind I had let go of his arm, kissed his cheek and told him not to worry about me. He had left, looking very relieved and just a little puzzled about that mysterious creature called woman and its mood swings. And I had congratulated myself for not bursting into tears until ten minutes after his departure.
Deciding not to dwell upon the past anymore I came to my feet quickly and put on the dressing gown. Actually it was too warm to wear it. But I couldn´t walk all the way to my son´s room in my nightdress only. What if one of the servants saw me? Besides, I liked wearing something Raoul had picked for me. It made me feel closer to him.
As I opened the door I was glad that the hinges were always well-oiled for it happened almost soundlessly. Tiptoeing down the corridor I had to remind myself that my husband was the owner of this house. I could walk around in it at all times of day and make as much noise as I pleased. Still I hurried past the few doors as quietly as possible, afraid I could wake someone up. Anyone seeing me would have probably thought me to be a ghost.
Fortunately Philippe´s room wasn´t far away. I sneaked inside as soundlessly as a mouse and was met with the soft sounds of a slumbering child. I could be grateful that Marielle no longer slept here. There was still a door through which one could enter her room without having to go to the corridor first, but it was rarely used. I walked past it and sat down on the edge of my son´s bed.
The moonlight illuminated his face. Seeing him was like taking a journey back in time for me, back to my childhood. The blond hair that covered parts of his pace in an unruly mass, the blue eyes, which of course were closed now – he looked just like the little boy who had once fetched my scarf from the sea. Even Jacques had become slightly friendlier to me because I had given birth to the spitting image of his master.
As I brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead he suddenly opened his eyes. "Maman?", he mumbled, still half asleep. "Yes, it´s me.", I whispered. "I… I´ve just come here to fetch you a lighter blanket. It´s an unusually warm night." At least that wasn´t a lie. I had felt how sweaty his face was and decided that I could as well do what I had said. So I stood up and went to the large wardrobe next to the window. It was not only a warm, but also quite a bright night, so that I didn´t have to light a candle to find the right blanket.
Coming back I noticed that Philippe seemed to be much more awake than before. "Is today my birthday?", he asked as I changed the blankets and folded the old one neatly. "That´s true.", I replied, placing it at the foot of his bed. "But…", I went on quickly before the boy could get his hopes up. "You cannot have your presents yet. It´s much too early. You still have to sleep for a few hours."
"Well… all right. But can you stay with me?", he whispered, his eyes wide. I nodded and went to the door to lock it. Just in case… As I came back and leaned down to tuck the blanket around him tightly, more because of motherly affection than because it was necessary, he admitted: "I don´t like the dark. It makes me frightened.". With these words he placed a sleepy kiss on the corner of my mouth, pressed my hand against his warm cheek and closed his eyes. He didn´t hear me murmur: "Me too, Philippe. Me too.". Cautiously I took my seat at the edge of his bed. I had been determined to stay awake, but listening to my son´s even breathing I felt my eyelids droop, and mere moments later I was dozing.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………
I woke up hours later because the moon had given way to the sun, which was blinding me mercilessly. My back was aching, and my arms were very heavy. I realised that the upper part of my body had landed on Philippe´s bed. Straightening up I accidentally threw something light that must have been on top of me to the floor. Without thinking I picked it up. It was a sheet of paper. My heart was gripped by an iron claw as I read: Bring me my boy after sunset. Suddenly I felt very dizzy. The room started spinning around me. Then everything went black.