September 8th – September 9th 1892: Erik
"Shouldn´t we be there yet?", the Vicomte asked. I sighed deeply, trying to suppress any unfriendly remark about his childish behaviour. "I can´t drive very quickly.", I replied as calmly as possible. "It´s a narrow path, and I have to pay attention to animals running from one side to the other. But if you think you could do it better, feel free to try!" I lifted the reins invitingly, yet he only mumbled something sounding like "I didn´t mean it like that.".
Maintaining the truce had been much easier when he had still been asleep. I had driven in silence, not thinking about anything in particular. For brief periods of time I had even been able to forget my worries about Christine. I had imagined I was merely taking a nightly ride in the coach. Yet since he had woken up five minutes ago and was annoying me with his constant questions, that was no longer possible. Not even in my wildest dreams I´d have taken him along.
If I had hoped my answer would silence him, I had been wrong. "Are you sure this is the right way?", he wanted to know just a moment later. "I don´t remember this road. Maybe I should have stayed away and guided you. When was the last time you´ve been to Perros, ten years ago?" "Actually it was in May.", I informed him. "May 10th, to be precise…"
I could almost hear him take in this fact and compare it to the things he already knew. It was only a matter of time till he´d understand what it meant. "We´ve been there on the same day. You were spying on us again!", he finally called, sounding much too triumphant for someone who had just drawn a conclusion any five-year-old could have found out. "Yes, I was.", I admitted frankly. "That hat you wore was exceptionally ugly. You can count yourself lucky that you lost it in the theatre two months later."
"Do you… know everything about our live?.", he asked quietly. If I could have turned around in my seat, I´d have done it now. For once I´d have liked to see his face. He had sounded unusually serious. "I try to.", I replied shortly. "But why?", he went on. "It´s been ten years since Christine decided against you. Can´t you just accept it and live your own life?" "No.", I said flatly. Oh, I could have said so much more! I could have told him about the kisses, about Philippe and everything else. But not a single word came over my lips. That was Christine´s task, not mine.
Now he sighed as well. "Anyway, of course this will stop.", he declared. "I appreciate your concern about Christine, but after we´ve taken her home I don´t want to hear anything about you sneaking around our house, all right?" I could hardly keep myself from bursting into laughter. After all, I had been ´sneaking around their house´, as he called it, for the last ten years without him taking notice. What made him think he had the right to order me to stop? Besides, if Christine told him the entire story, things would change anyway.
I was almost a bit grateful when we arrived at Perros just a few moments later, for it spared me giving an answer. Telling the truth would have been impossible, but making up a reply about me becoming a good little Phantom would have been pathetic as well. Fortunately he seemed to have forgotten his statement by the time the coach came to a halt at the graveyard. It was just the same for me. Nothing but Christine was important. What was the point in discussing the future if we couldn´t even be sure about her present situation?
We left the coach quickly. While I tied the horse to a tree nearby, he was already walking towards the gate. "Wait!", I called. "You don´t even have a lantern!" Though I might have been rather impatient myself, I wasn´t stupid. The moon had shone brightly when we had departed from Paris, but during our journey more and more clouds had formed, so that it was quite dark now. Even I wouldn´t have wandered around without a source of light.
I joined the Vicomte at the gate, where he had waited reluctantly. "Shall we split up and search at different sides?", he asked as soon as we had entered the graveyard. I rolled my eyes discreetly. "As much as I can understand your desire to get away from me – and I can assure you that it´s mutual – it won´t work that way.", I told him. "We´ve only got one lantern." "But I´ve heard you could see in the dark.", he argued, looking at me in surprise.
This time I couldn´t hold back a groan. "What do you think I am - a cat?", I asked. "True, I get used to the dark more quickly than an average person, but that´s just because I spend so much time underground. Maybe I´ll get along a little better than you, that´s all. Could you keep the rest of your stupid prejudices about me to yourself in the future? Otherwise I might be tempted to revive the one about me killing people who annoy me…"
"So I´m annoying you?", he called. "And what are you doing then? Every time I ask you a question all I get is a cryptic murmur! I want answers, don´t you understand that? I feel as if I had missed something important, and the only person who could tell me doesn´t do it." I took a step closer to him. The lantern´s light turned his face into a grotesque grimace. "Has it never occurred to you that perhaps I don´t talk to you because I don´t want it?", I hissed. "I would have been perfectly happy with not speaking a single word to you in my life. If it hadn´t been for Christine – "
We looked at each other and inhaled sharply as we remembered why we were here. "Maybe we should cease talking.", I suggested. "We don´t have time for such pointless arguments." He nodded in agreement, gestured at the right way, and our search began. We could only walk slowly, for the path was uneven. I was the first to go down the rows, illuminating them best I could. The Vicomte went after me. Our shouts of "Christine? Christine?" echoed over the graveyard, resounding from the walls. It was as if a dozen people were calling for her.
Usually I loved the night and would have chosen it over the day any time, but today it was different. If it had been light, we could have spotted her in an instant. Yet in the dark I had to bring the lantern to every bench and every large stone, afraid we might overlook her. Once I suddenly heard a sound behind me and spun around, certain it was her, only to find my companion lying on the ground. He had apparently tripped over a stone and fallen. I helped him to his feet, holding back the comment that already was on the tip of my tongue. This wasn´t the right time for snide remarks.
I was relieved when we finally reached the mausoleum, and judging by the expression on the Vicomte´s face he shared my opinion. He hurried up the steps and rapped at the door, but didn´t get in. It seemed to be locked. Turning toward me again he said: "She can´t be inside. So where is she?". It was an excellent question, yet I didn´t know the answer. Could it be possible that Christine simply wasn´t here? Had our oh-so-logical assumptions been wrong? I dreaded to imagine how much time we had wasted coming here. What if she had indeed been mugged and was lying in the gutter, freezing to death in that very moment? It was one of the first cold nights for quite a long time, reminding me that autumn was about to come.
"I found her! I nearly tripped over her!" My companion´s words brought me back to earth. He was kneeling at the side of the steps, next to what resembled a large bundle of rags. Yet as I came closer I realised that it actually was a person wrapped in a cloak. "Christine!", I cried, not caring that my voice gave away I was close to tears. I was so glad to see her. But what did the poor girl look like? Holding the lantern over her face I noticed it had a terribly white colour and her lips were blue. "She´s as cold as ice.", he whispered, touching her cheek softly. He sounded as scared as I felt. "Christine? Christine, you have to wake up now!", he said, shaking her shoulder gently. Yet she didn´t move. "Why doesn´t she wake up?", he asked me, a slight note of panic in his voice. Another one of those excellent questions I didn´t know the answer to…