Author's note: My deepest apologies to my dear readers! This chapter was finished on Wednesday, but I simply couldn't upload it.

Chapter Fifty-Five

September 14th 1892: Christine

I was still slightly out of breath as we returned to our box, and our long kiss was not the only reason for it. I felt as if during my little speeches I had lost so much air that I'd never be able to fill my lungs again. Had there ever been an occasion when I had talked so much in such a short time? If there had been one, I couldn't remember it. Surrounded by people like Meg, whose ability to talk quickly was almost legendary, I had been lucky if I had managed to squeeze in a word every now and then.

Yet despite all that, I also felt wonderfully liberated. I had told those people my opinion without holding myself back. And my husband hadn't looked into the other direction, embarrassed about my behaviour, but he had stood by me. This fact surprised me most. After all, Raoul had been a member of those circles for all his life and knew that disagreeing too much wasn't exactly popular there. And still he had supported me. It was a small miracle.

"I wonder where the others are," he remarked as we settled down on our seats. Throwing a glance at his pocket watch he added: "The interval will be over in just a few minutes.".

"I'm sure Jacqueline won't manage to drag Antoinette away from the dancers one moment earlier than absolutely necessary," I replied with a smile. "Who knows when she'll come to the opera again?"

Grinning slightly Raoul said: "I guess that will be sooner rather than later. Or are you planning to wait for another ten years till your next visit?".

"Certainly not," I stressed. "It is nice to be here again."

He nodded. A few moments passed in silence as we both looked at the auditorium, which was slowly filling with people again.

Suddenly he asked: "Do you miss performing on stage, Christine?".

I glanced at him in surprise.

"What makes you utter such a question?" I wanted to know warily. Had he heard more gossip than I had, rumours about me, maybe?

Before Erik had returned into my life, I hadn't mentioned the opera for years. It had become something like an indecent topic in our home. Even the children knew that by now.

He shrugged.

"I was just thinking that… well, perhaps it's the next step," he explained. "You know, first you started talking about the opera again, then we even came here to attend a performance… And then there's this new diva. You may not have noticed it yourself, but I saw you flinch every time she made an appearance. Didn't you wonder whether you could sing better than her?"

"Of course I could," I replied instantly, a little indignant because he had asked that question at all. "I studied her role during my training with Erik, and it's not that difficult. Signora Marchesi is simply…" I interrupted myself, trying to find the right words to describe it. "If she couldn't perform the role decently because it's too demanding for her voice, I wouldn't criticise her, but the people who gave her the part," I eventually went on. "Yet to me it seems like she's underestimating it, so she doesn't give all she can. It's a shame, really…"

Raoul listened, not once commenting on my words. I was aware that my answer had been a little too detailed, yet somehow I hadn't been able to stop myself sooner. When I was finished at last I gave him an apologetic smile.

"That was probably more than you wanted to know," I muttered. I was a little embarrassed, wondering where all that had come from. Would I end up talking that much all the time now?

"On the contrary, my dear," he said. "That was very informative. Now I know that you'd like to perform again."

I sighed. It hadn't been my intention to reveal that much. Or maybe it had… I couldn't be sure about it. Usually my friend Meg was the one I shared my dreams and ambitions with. At least it had been like that ten years ago, when I had still had ambitions. They had somehow vanished as I had left the opera. Being a Countess should have been enough for me, shouldn't it?

But it was not enough; I could clearly feel it. For such a long time I had suppressed those emotions, and now they were stronger than ever. It was as if my husband's questions had pulled the stopper out of a gigantic bathtub, plunging me into a vortex of my own feelings. Singing had once been my whole life, and maybe it had been wrong to give it up that abruptly. Maybe it was time to start again.

Raoul's fingers tapping my arm lightly made me aware that I hadn't reacted to his last remark.

"It's not even that much the performing I miss," I said pensively. "It's the singing itself. The feelings it gives me… they're difficult to describe. They're good… very good…" My voice trailed off as I recalled the joy of exploring my abilities to their limits and beyond, the excitement of trying a new piece, the pleasure of wandering through life with a song in my head.

"Your eyes are all dreamy," he whispered, his voice somewhere between teasing and tender. Taking my hand he pressed a soft kiss to it. "You know that I'd do anything to make you happy," he went on. "If it's that important to you, you can take singing lessons again. We'll find you a good teacher. And who knows? Maybe you'll perform on stage again one day."

I shook my head with a slight laugh. The latter was highly unlikely. Except for a few lullabies every now and then, I hadn't sung for ten years. That was a fact that couldn't be undone by a few lessons, and Raoul knew it. During my time at the opera he had picked up more than enough about such things. Yet that only made his words nicer.

Still there was something that irritated me. It took me some moments to realise what it was.

"You want to ´find a good teacher´ for me?" I repeated slowly. "And what about Erik?"

The expression on his face changed abruptly. Now he looked as if he had a bad toothache.

"Oh, Christine…" he muttered. "I accept that he's your friend. But I don't think I could live with him being your teacher again. Have you forgotten what that man can do with his voice? You told me about his power over you yourself. What makes you think that he wouldn't take advantage of it? He still loves you…"

I listened to him, not quite meeting his eyes. His analysis of a possible situation was rather accurate. No one knew more about the effects of Erik's voice on me than I did. Of course I didn't simply jump to conclusions and accused him of trying to use dishonest methods as soon as he had the chance to do so, but I could understand why Raoul suspected such things. I hadn't given him a reason for trusting him yet, and I doubted I'd ever be able to.

Besides, even if my former teacher did not intend to influence me while singing, it could happen. I still vividly remembered the day when he had given his mechanical bird Orpheus a voice for Philippe. His song hadn't even been for me at that time, and yet it had affected me. What if that would happen again and none of us would be strong enough to stop? And then there was something else… But I could have never told Raoul about it. It would have hurt him too much.

So I merely said: "You're right. I don't think Erik would try to do something to me, but it wouldn't be fair to take lessons with him again. It could make him believe that… you know, that my feelings for him had changed. I don't want to raise his hopes.".

My husband smiled.

"You're such a thoughtful person, Christine," he whispered softly. "We'll get a wonderful teacher for you. I'll start looking tomorrow morning."

Fortunately I didn't have to search for a reply, for in this moment Antoinette and Jacqueline came back. It was amazing that a single child could produce so much noise and action.

"You wouldn't believe what I've seen!" our daughter cried, bouncing up and down in excitement. "There was this girl who could – "

She was interrupted by a melodic gong announcing the second act.

"You can tell us everything later," I hissed quickly, and Jacqueline pulled her onto her chair. I heard a soft clicking sound and knew that Narelle, who had entered the box with the others, had closed the door.

I was ridiculously relieved that I didn't have to talk anymore, neither to Raoul nor to Antoinette. The idea of taking singing lessons again had come so quickly and I had hardly had enough time to think about it. In general I quite liked it. It would give me back my favourite activity. And surely it would be better to have a teacher who wasn't Erik. Yet that had nothing to do with the fact that I might not trust him. The point was that I didn't trust myself. What if the regular meetings would make my feelings for him grow stronger? No, I couldn't risk it. For my family's sake.