September 15th 1892: Christine
I felt as if I had been run over by a coach. For the last thirty minutes – ever since I had jumped out of Erik's bed – I had done everything as quickly as possible. I had probably forgotten half a dozen things in his bathroom because I had just thrown all the items that seemed vaguely familiar into the suitcase. Getting dressed, usually a rather lengthy procedure, had only taken a few moments today. Then we had hurried out of the house and along the passageways. I had no idea what Erik had told the driver of the first coach we had found or how much he had paid him, but it was a fact that the journey to my home had taken less than half of the normal time.
And now I entered Raoul's study, for the living room and our bedroom had been empty, only to find him in an embrace with Jacqueline. Could anyone blame me for being stunned? I only watched them for a moment, but it was enough to take in all the details: The maid's back was facing me, so that I had an excellent view on his head resting on her shoulder and his hands holding her gently. It was sickening.
Yet for some reason that I couldn't quite understand myself none of my hurt feelings showed in my behaviour. On the outside, I was perfectly calm. I gave a little cough and watched them break apart hastily.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" I exclaimed in mock embarrassment. "Did I interrupt something? Would you like me to leave again?"
Raoul seemed too surprised to speak, whereas Jacqueline took a few steps forwards and started justifying herself right away.
"It's not what it looks like, Madame. It was just an embrace, nothing more… I wanted to comfort him because he was miserable…"
"It's all right," I assured her. "This won't have any consequences for you. I know who the guilty one is." I threw my husband a cold glance. The maid regarded it as a sign for her to leave.
"I'll look what the children are doing," she called before she closed the door behind her, obviously glad to he out of harm's reach.
I had expected Raoul to be embarrassed, to squirm under my gaze and defend himself. Yet he appeared rather relaxed, as if being caught embracing a servant was nothing that caused him the slightest discomfort.
"Good morning, Christine," he said casually. "Look out of the window! Isn't this a wonderful day?"
"Outside it may be wonderful, but in here it's not," I gave back icily. "Don't you have anything to explain to me?"
"Explain? No, I don't think so," he replied with a shrug.
If it was his goal to make me lose control about myself, it was working: I grew angry.
"You've just embraced Jacqueline," I called. "Who knows what else you'd have done if I hadn't come in? What have you been thinking?"
"Those are funny accusations out of the mouth of a woman who spent last night in another man's bed," he snarled. Involuntarily my hand flew to my mouth. "What's the matter, my dear? Do you have a problem with being shown how strange your morals are? You are allowed to do everything you please, whereas I am to sit at home, waiting for you."
"But you sent me to Erik," I argued. "You asked me to make love to him! When did I ask you to embrace Jacqueline?"
"Well, excuse me for having made a decision of my own!" he said with a ridiculous little bow. "I was under the illusion that you're my wife and not my mistress. I thought you didn't have the right to tell me what to do…"
I didn't trust my ears.
"Oh, and you have that right, just because you're my husband?" I cried. "Or do you want me to call you ´master´ from now on?"
He took a step forwards, and for a moment I was afraid he could hit me. Yet he only smirked.
"Master," he repeated with a mocking undertone. "Is that what the Phantom wants you to call him? Tell me about your night together! What did you do?"
I couldn't understand where his fury had gone during the last sentences. Why was he friendly all of a sudden? He made it sound as if I had spent a nice afternoon with Meg instead of a night with his archenemy.
His change of mood made me uncertain of how to go on. Originally I had planned to tell him the truth, expecting him to be pleased rather than angry. During the last minutes I had seriously considered making up a story about Erik and me doing the most extraordinary things, just to wipe that superior smile off his face. But now I wasn't sure anymore. Whatever I told him, his reaction was completely unpredictable.
Eventually I settled for the truth. It had the advantage that… well, that it was the truth.
"We only kissed," I replied shortly. "Nothing else happened. He… he didn't want to," I added, feeling the urge to justify myself for not having kept my promise.
"He didn't want to?" Raoul echoed. Then he smacked his forehead lightly, as if suddenly understanding everything. "But of course!" he exclaimed. "I should have known so! You came to him, took off all your clothes and begged him to make love to you – and although he has never done anything like that in his pathetic life, he rejected you because he's much too noble to take you away from your husband, even for a few moments! Do you expect me to believe that?"
I had listened to his monologue in silence, wondering when Raoul had become so bitter. It hurt me to watch him pace the length of the room in agitation. Sometimes he was so close to me that I could have touched him, yet the waves of hostility coming from him made me keep my hands away from his body.
"I don't expect you to believe anything," I stated coldly. "But perhaps I should remind you that love is based on believing what the other one tells you."
He stopped and turned to face me. Sensing that my words had reached him, I quickly continued talking.
"You've been away from home so often, and yet I've never suspected you could use the free time you had on your travels to meet someone else. I always believed you'd never betray me, and I was right, wasn't I?" He nodded emphatically. "And now look at what you do: I told you that nothing happened between Erik and me, and instead of being relieved, you refuse to believe it. Don't you see that something's not right there?" I walked over to him and placed my hands on his shoulders, asking: "Do you still believe in our love, Raoul?".
Again, he surprised me. Without a moment's hesitation he answered:
"Yes, I do. My love for you is the only thing I've never questioned. Never. It gives me strength, no matter how hopeless the situation is. Without that love I'd die.".
His sincerity left me speechless. I didn't know what kind of reply I had expected, but it had certainly not been a declaration of love like that one. However, I resisted the temptation to simply pull him into an embrace and kiss him. That would have been too easy a solution.
Keeping my hands on his shoulders I asked:
"And why did you send me away, even though you love me that much?".
"I sent you away because I love you," he stressed. "I was afraid you couldn't be happy with me. I thought that if you went away once and came back, I could be sure that you'd stay forever, that you… loved me."
"I do love you, silly boy," I whispered, leaning forwards and giving him a kiss on the tip of his nose. "But whether you take my word for it is a matter of believing again."
So many things were a matter of believing these days. The longer I gazed into Raoul's eyes, the more complicated those things became. Would he believe me this time? Maybe I should have said more. But then, I didn't want to persuade him. The determination to trust me had to come from the inside, not from the outside. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I waited for the answer.
"So nothing happened between the Phantom and you?" he finally asked. I sighed deeply. Was that discussion starting again? Maybe it was time to get a little help.
"Nothing," I assured him. "And if you don't believe me, you can ask Erik yourself. He's gone to look where the children are."
"You… you brought him here?" Raoul stammered. "Why?"
"I was afraid you wouldn't believe me," I said truthfully.
"And he's with… our children?" he asked, making it sound as if Erik were a man-eating lion. Without waiting for my reply he stormed out of the room. I followed him quickly.
It wasn't difficult to find out where everyone was. My daughter's merry chatting could be heard as soon as we reached the ground floor. It clearly came from the kitchen. Arriving there I could hardly hold back laughter. The children, Erik, the maid and the cook were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea and eating biscuits. It wasn't exactly a life-threatening situation.
"Maman! Papa!" Antoinette and Philippe exclaimed in almost perfect unison, beaming at us.
"Good morning, Madame and Monsieur," the cook said cheerfully. "Philippe's teacher has come to visit us. Such a nice man…" I smiled at her. To her appearances didn't matter in the slightest. As long as people were friendly and liked her cooking, she didn't mind what they looked like.
"Good morning. Can we have two more cups and plates, please?" I then asked. "I haven't had any breakfast, and those biscuits smell delicious. We will drink tea with them, won't we, Raoul?" To my surprise he nodded. Settling down I suppressed a sigh of relief, glad that he hadn't started shouting at Erik in front of the children. Yet I was also aware that once the shock of finding him here like a normal visitor would have worn off, everything was possible.