September 8th 1892: Christine
I brought Philippe to the opera the same afternoon. After I had agreed to let him go there again he had wanted to do it as soon as possible. I hadn´t been able to deny him that wish, not as long as he cowered on his bed like the picture of misery. So I had sent a message to Erik, announcing my son´s arrival, and after drinking tea we had left.
It was much noisier in the coach that usual. The reason was the third person sitting in it, a lively nine-year-old girl. The moment Antoinette had heard where we´d be going she had insisted on coming with us. Since Jacqueline still hadn´t come back from meeting her sister, this had been the best solution. As nice as Larisse was, I wasn´t sure that she could cope with my daughter´s temper for several hours.
Neither Philippe nor I talked much, but it wasn´t necessary. Antoinette could have entire conversations all by herself, especially when she was excited. And the prospect of going to the opera at last made her very excited. "Do you think we´ll meet real dancers, Maman? And singers? And musicians? Can we also see the stage and the dressing rooms?" I merely nodded, only half-listening. My main worry was whom I might meet. Of course I had told Erik in my note that I didn´t want to see him, but I couldn´t be certain that he´d comply. When it came to Erik, I could only be certain of very few things.
My daughter´s questions accompanied our entire ride, and I was glad when we arrived and she stopped talking abruptly, gazing at the imposing building open-mouthed. I took her hand and led her to the Rue Scribe entrance, promising that she´d like the inside even more. Philippe followed us. He seemed surprised about his sister´s interest in the house. But then, he had seen it many times before. I waited till he had caught up with us. Then I said: "Don´t forget that we´ll meet again at six o´clock! Antoinette and I will be in the building the entire time, so if anything happens, you can come to us.".
"Nothing can happen to me as long as I´m with Uncle Erik.", he declared with deep conviction. I gave him a lopsided smile. There had been a time when I had thought the same. It seemed to have been ages ago. I watched Philippe open the door and went after him, still holding my daughter´s hand. He made his way to the cellars without a moment´s hesitation. It was obvious that he could find the path alone, probably better than I could have done it.
As we walked to the stage Antoinette was unusually quiet. It was an almost awed silence, and I couldn ´t help being grateful for it. The opera had that effect on most people who came here for the first time. Several minutes passed before she spoke. "Will we really watch a rehearsal, Maman?" "I guess we will.", I replied with a slight shrug. "I don´t know anything about their current timetable, but I hope we won´t arrive at the beginning of a rehearsal. They can take hours, and I´d like to have enough time to talk to Aunt Antoinette afterwards." I had come to the conclusion that Mme.Giry was the best person to help me with my problems. Meg was my friend, but she had never even met Erik. Her mother knew so much more about him.
After a few more minutes we reached one of the doors leading to the auditorium and slipped inside. I pressed my index finger against my lips, indicating that we had to be quiet. Yet my warning wouldn´t have been necessary. Even though she had never been at such a place, my daughter seemed to know exactly how to behave. I could only guess that Meg had told her about it, just in case I´d ever let her allow to come here.
I would have preferred a seat at the back, where no one would notice us, but Antoinette dragged me to the first row. Hesitantly I sat down next to her and looked up. The sights, the smells, the sounds – all that was so familiar and intense that I had to close my eyes for a moment. Oh, how I had missed the opera! Opening them again I spotted Meg standing at the left side of the stage, beaming and giving us a little wave. Her mother threw her a stern glance, but then she saw us as well and her lips curled into the tiniest of smiles. I returned it shyly.
We remained in our seats for about half an hour. The rehearsal was more or less a complete chaos. Meg as the prima ballerina was the only one who knew her exact place on the stage. Two or three chorus girls were missing entirely, so that there was a large gap in the row of dancers. Everyone became even more confused when the stagehands decided to change the scenery in the middle of the scene without as much as a warning. I could only hope that there was still very much time till the first night.
Yet the worst part was listening to the new leading soprano. Her voice was all right, but she had the annoying habit of exaggerating every gesture, every glance to the point when her performance looked more like a parody than anything else. I remembered the aria she sung very well. It was one of the pieces I had studied with Erik. My patience with that diva decreased even more when I realised I had sung it better than her.
Eventually Mme.Giry seemed to have mercy on her dancers and stopped the rehearsal, telling them to go and repeat their steps in the room reserved for practicing. While most other people left quickly Meg fetched the portable stairs, so that Antoinette and I could enter the stage from the auditorium. I was a little reluctant to do so, afraid the remaining people could ask unpleasant questions about why I hadn´t been here for such a long time. Yet it turned out that there was no reason for my worries: None of them seemed to know me. But for some reason this made me sad rather than glad. Did nobody recognise me anymore, nobody at all?
"Christine!", Meg called in a delighted voice, pulling me out of my sombre thoughts. "Oh, it´s so wonderful to see you here! How long has it been – ten years?" I nodded, embracing her briefly. Yet when I turned around to greet her mother my view was blocked by the new diva. "Christine? So you´re Christine Daaé? Veramente?", she asked, eyeing me curiously. "Actually it´s Christine Countess de Chagny now.", I corrected her coldly. I didn´t use my title too often, but sometimes it was quite useful.
It also worked now. The woman took a small step backwards and said: "Scusi, Signora! I didn´t mean to offend you… My name is Donatella Marchesi. I´m the new leading soprano of this fantastic opera house. I´ve heard so much about you. Everybody still praises your legendary talent. And then this tragedy! Is it true that-?". "I´m sorry to interrupt you, but I recall that there is someone waiting in your dressing room.", Meg interjected. At once the woman´s mouth shut and she hurried away. "It was so nice having met you!", she called over her shoulder.
"Who is waiting in her dressing room?", I asked as soon as she was out of earshot. "No one.", Meg replied pleasantly. "I just made up an excuse to get her away from you. She´s very arrogant and doesn´t talk to many people. Yet once she has started talking, you won´t escape till she´s finished with you." She rolled her eyes, and I had to laugh. In a way, the little interlude had been quite helpful. I felt less self-conscious now.
My friend smiled at me. "It´s good to hear you laugh again.", she remarked. "Why are you here?" "I brought Philippe to… to him and I wanted to stay till his return.", I explained in a low voice. "So Erik and you get alone well again? You didn´t catch him do something terrible yesterday?" "Meg, I… actually I wanted to talk to your mother about it.", I muttered cautiously. "Could you maybe keep an eye on Antoinette, so that she won´t listen to us? I´ll fill you in later."
Meg bit her lip and threw me an apologetic glance. "Oh, Christine, there´s something I´ve done…", she whispered. "I told my mother what you told me. This morning wanted to know how you were doing, and I simply couldn´t lie and say that you´re fine. Was that… all right with you?" "Of course.", I replied. I was even grateful, for it meant that I wouldn´t have to repeat the whole story. A moment late my friend was smiling again. We looked over at Antoinette, who was chatting merrily with her godmother. "Would you like me to show you around?", Meg asked. "Yes!", my daughter answered. She ran over to my friend and seized her hand. Together they left the stage. Now only Mme.Giry and I were here.
"I guess you want to discuss your problems with Erik.", she said while I was still trying to find a way to approach the subject cautiously. I nodded, a little puzzled because she had figured it out this quickly. "I thought you might come to me, with all that has happened.", Mme.Giry answered my question before I had even asked it. "Things have become even worse since I talked to Meg yesterday.", I said miserably. Then I told her about the corpses and that I had kissed Erik… again. The only part I left out was how wonderful it had felt. That was too embarrassing to put it into words.
My former ballet teacher looked at me intently for a few moments after I had stopped. It was as if she tried to take a glance at my very soul. I squirmed under her gaze. Could she somehow find out that I hadn´t told her the entire story? "What exactly is your problem?", she eventually wanted to know. I stared at her in disbelief. Hadn´t she listened at all? "The cor-", I began, only to be interrupted by her. "Let´s leave out the corpses for a while.", she said strictly. "It was a terrible mistake to show them to the boy. There´s no need for discussing that. But what else makes you worried, apart from this incident?"
I had to consider her question for a minute or two. "It´s just… I don´t like it that he´s with my son so often and has such a strong influence on him.", I replied. "Sometimes when he speaks I can almost hear Erik´s words…" Mme.Giry placed a hand on my shoulder in a rare affectionate gesture. Then she asked: "Don´t get me wrong, child, but could it be possible that you´re jealous because Philippe spends so much time with Erik and you don´t?".