September 8th 1892: Christine
What a nice, quiet place this was! It had definitely been worth the long journey. The coachman had been very stupid, though. "A graveyard isn´t the right place for a fine woman like you, especially not at night.", he had said. "Are you sure that you don´t want me to drive you home instead?" Yet a certain amount of money had silenced him at once, and he had brought me here without superfluous comments.
Only when I had told him to leave me alone in Perros he had protested again. "I don´t know this area too well, but I doubt you´ll get another coach here.", he had argued. "I could wait till you´re finished, you know. There´s not much business in Paris this late at night anyway." It had been the friendly offer of a probably very kind man, and still I had declined it. I couldn´t bear another person´s presence at the moment, and the thought that I had to hurry because someone was waiting for me had made me shiver.
The coachman had shook his head incredulously. "And what if you don´t find anybody to take you home?", he had asked. "Where will you spend the night?" "I have relatives living nearby.", I had lied quickly. "I can stay at their house and drive back in the morning." Not for the first time it occurred to me what a good liar I had become. It was nothing to be proud of, though. The truth was that I had no idea where I´d sleep. Maybe I wouldn´t do it at all.
In the end he had given up. "Do take this!", he had said firmly, handing me his thick woollen cloak. "It may be warm now, but it´ll cool down faster than you think, Madame." I had thanked him and walked away. Before he had left at last I had heard him murmur: "I still don´t like the idea… a woman between all those graves…". "At least the people there are silent.", I had muttered, opening the heavy iron gate.
So I was wandering around with a cloak over my left arm now. As it wasn´t cold yet I had thought about putting it on the ground, but something made me keep it. It had been a generous present, and I didn´t want it to end up in the dirt. Besides, I probably wouldn´t have found it again. The graveyard was gigantic, much vaster than in my memory. But then, I had always been here at day. For some reason everything seemed bigger at night.
The crescent moon was shining brightly, plunging my surroundings into a strange, surreal light. Soon it would show the world its full beauty. I stopped for a moment and glanced up at it longingly, feeling some kind of connection between it and me, or rather, between her and me. Hadn´t Father often told me that the moon was female in many stories and legends? Unlike her dissimilar twin, the sun, she was always changing, and no one complained about it. No one expected her to remain in one form for eternity. She could be content. Or was she like me, constantly on the run? Maybe she was running from the sun, which always stayed the same. Or was she running after the sun? My thoughts grew blurred and melted into each other.
Church bells pulled me out of my reverie. I couldn´t stand here and ponder about the moon all night. I had to get to my father´s grave. The way to the mausoleum wasn´t far. Yet when I pushed down the handle, the door didn´t move. It was locked. If I had thought about my journey carefully before coming to the graveyard, I might have expected something like this. But I hadn´t thought about anything. I had only walked up and down the Parisian streets for hours. Seeing a coach I had suddenly known where I had wanted to go.
Heaving a deep sigh I sank down onto the stone steps leading to the mausoleum. Since I had had to abandon my original plan of getting inside, I could as well stay here. Actually it didn´t make any difference. If I truly believed he could hear me, he could surely also hear me when I sat outside. Perhaps it was even better like this. The cool night air was caressing my face and enveloping my body like a blanket. Surely the air inside would have been stuffy.
"Father?", I called in a low voice. Usually I only spoke to him in my thoughts, but now I felt like really talking. It was oddly comforting to hear my own voice break the silence. "You know what has been going on between Erik and me in the last years?", I went on. "Of course you do. You know everything that has happened in my life, even though you´re no longer there." This thought had always been my biggest consolation, ever since I hadn´t been able to believe in the Angel of Music anymore.
Briefly I cleared my throat before saying: "Then you also know that Erik has been a very good teacher and an even better friend to me. It was terrible that I had to hurt his feelings so much, after he had been so kind to me. When I left him I thought my heart would break. I lost so much that sometimes…". My voice dropped to a whisper, as if I was afraid of hearing the next words uttered aloud. "…sometimes I wondered whether… being with Raoul was truly worth it."
I jumped slightly as the full impact of what I had said shot through me. "I love Raoul, of course I do.", I continued, stumbling over the words in an attempt to get them out as quickly as possible. "He has always been there for me, no matter how sad or frightened I was. He´s a wonderful husband and father. And still… I lied to him. I lie so often these days, Father. I´m sorry. I know it isn´t the way you brought me up…"
For a few moments I was lost in memories about my childhood. Then I forced myself back into the present. I couldn´t afford growing sentimental. My problems wouldn´t go away if I buried myself in the past. I had to keep talking. And that was what I did. "I didn´t tell Raoul about the promise I had given Erik. At first I didn´t think it was that important. And as I realised I had been wrong… it was too late. You know, Raoul surely assumed Erik was dead. He´d be shocked if he found out the truth." My breath sped up as I imagined my husband and my former teacher meeting. "He´d try to kill Erik. And then… then Erik would kill him."
A dry sob shook my body. "I couldn´t bear losing either of them.", I whispered. "Raoul has been part of my life for all those years, and Erik… he has been there as well, even though I´ve only found out about it recently. It makes me feel… secure to know that those two men are protecting me." I gave a sad little smile. "But Mme.Giry was right: It´s not fair as long as I´m leaving Erik in the dark about my feelings for him. At least Raoul knows that I love him."
I stopped, realising I had reached an essential part of my soliloquy. The lower half of my body was growing numb from sitting here for such a long time, yet I didn´t dare stand up, afraid I could forget where I had been. "Maybe I´ve never told Erik what I feel for him because I don´t know it myself.", I muttered. "Sometimes it´s like friendship. I like it that he´s so nice to Philippe and that he cares for my well-being. I´m also sure he looks after my children while I´m here… But when we kissed… it suddenly was so similar to what I feel for Raoul…"
Resting my face in my palms I breathed: "What shall I do, Father? What is the right answer?". Of course there was no reply. Suddenly I felt foolish for having placed so much hope in coming to my father´s grave. ´He´s dead, Christine.´, I told myself sternly. ´Dead, dead, dead! And dead people cannot give advice. It´s about time that you grow up and make your own decisions instead of running to your father like a little girl.´
Those were clear words. But I couldn´t comply. I was overwhelmed by a leaden tiredness. It was as if every bone in my body was screaming for sleep. Closing my eyes for a few minutes couldn´t be bad, could it? I´d be able to continue thinking afterwards. As quickly as it was possible with very heavy arms I spread out the cloak next to me to make the steps a little softer and crawled onto it. The wool was scratchy against my cheek as I lay down on my side. Sighing I turned onto my back. The ever-changing moon was the last thing I saw before falling asleep.