September 16th 1892: Erik
It was a well-known phenomenon that sometimes things changed so quickly that one could hardly understand what was happening and why it was happening. Seemingly perfect days turned into nightmares, and boring days became exciting. Today belonged to the latter category. It had started completely normal. Since his mother wanted to take him to the seamstress, Philippe wouldn't be with me until the afternoon. So I had decided to watch a part of the rehearsal in order to make sure Mme.Giry carried out my instructions.
And then the Vicomte had entered my box, just like that. At first I had hidden, determined to teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget in a hurry , but when I had indeed shown myself after a while, it had been even better than I had expected. Having that man ask me for help was a rare pleasure, and I couldn't help enjoying it. The story itself, however, hadn't been enjoyable at all. Someone was attacking my Christine and her children? It had been on the tip of my tongue to ask why he hadn't brought them to me at night or at least alerted me sooner.
Yet none of those questions had left my mouth. They would have revealed how upset I was, and in my opinion showing such emotions in his presence would have been an unforgivable weakness. So I had forced myself to remain calm, not interrupting his story once. My mind had been working quickly while I had listened. If I'd say the right things now, the situation could turn out very well for me. I could gain quite a few advantages from it.
"What kind of conditions?" the Vicomte wanted to know. "Do you need money? I'll pay for whatever you miss in the times you won't be at the opera. It would mainly concern the nights anyway, and since I understand you don't sleep too much, that shouldn't be a problem either, should it?"
My smile widened. Many other people would have been impressed by his self-assured way of talking, but I wasn't. I knew that he was only talking this much because he was nervous, which was a fact that made me enjoy the situation even more.
"It is truly touching how much you care about my financial situation and my sleeping habits," I said dryly. "But I'm happy to tell you both are quite all right. It is correct that I can live with little sleep, which will doubtlessly come in useful when I'll look after your family. You also don't have to worry that I won't have enough money. I'm still getting 20,000 Francs a month, and soon it'll be 40,000."
He looked at me in surprise.
"40,000?" he repeated. "Why?"
"Well, Philippe is already helping me a lot," I replied. "This means that he is also helping the opera and its managers. When there are two Opera Ghosts, it is only logical that the double amount of money is to be paid."
The Vicomte shook his head in disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. Even he had his bright moments.
"So you see that I don't need any more money," I went on. "I already have enough for me and my little pupil. What I want is… something different…" I made a little pause for effect.
"What?" he suddenly shouted. "What is it you want? Can't you just tell me?"
"The only thing I'll tell you as long as you're that unfriendly is to stop yelling," I answered pleasantly. "Or do you want to drawn the attention of the chorus girls and the entire orchestra to the fact that you're here with me?"
He threw a surprised glance at the stage, as if he had just remembered all those people were still there. In the moments when he had shouted the music had been rather loud, yet if he had done it just a minute earlier, at least two dozen heads would have turned into our direction by now.
"I'm sorry," he said through gritted teeth, not sounding sorry at all. "Could you tell me… please?"
I could have continued this game for a very long time, yet fortunately for him I was not in the mood. The revelation that was about to come would put his resolution not to shout to the test.
"I want your family," I declared, watching in delight the expression on his face turn into one of pure horror. I let a few seconds pass while he gaped at me. Then I went on: "Not forever, of course… just for the time when you'll be gone. I'll move in your house, ride your coach, sit at your place at the table, tell your servants what to do… and sleep in your bed, next to Christine.".
My last few words seemed to have pulled him out of his stupor.
"Never!" he hissed. "I won't let you come that close to Christine and the children!"
"Then it'll be a little difficult to protect them, won't it?" I pointed out sensibly.
He snorted, knowing I was right and hating me for it. I could almost see his mind working, trying to find a balance between the things he could change and those he simply had to accept. Little he knew that every single one of my conditions belonged to the latter category. I wouldn't give in.
After a few moments he said, as persuasively as he was able to:
"You can't really want to spend all that time with my family. What about the opera? Won't people do everything wrong without you guiding them? Won't they miss you?".
I could hardly keep myself from bursting into laughter. The Vicomte was a terrible liar. He knew as well as I did that everyone would be happy about me leaving for a while. The managers would probably have a party once they heard about it.
"I'm sure they'll get along on their own," I replied, trying to remain serious, although the urge to laugh was still there. "Besides, I won't be gone all the time. An important part of Philippe's education takes place at the opera, so I'll come here with him every day. Christine and Antoinette will accompany us. The girl can watch the dancers practice, and Christine can use the time to talk to Mme.Giry or Meg. I believe they haven't seen each other too often lately. But then, how should you know that?" Now I did chuckle.
He looked at me as if he'd have loved to murder me with his bare hands, but he was wise enough not to try it. He even seemed to have understood that he couldn't change my mind completely. So he merely argued:
"All right, you can stay in the house. But wouldn't it be much better if you took one of the guestrooms? You'll be awake most of the time, and in the bedroom you'd only disturb Christine…".
"Oh, please don't think I don't sleep at all," I told him. "It's a very light sleep, though. I can assure you that I'm perfectly capable of sleeping next to your wife and waking up at the softest sound. So you don't have to be worried that I'll keep her awake… at least not in that sense…" I patted his arm in mock sympathy. This conversation was getting better and better.
"But I am worried!" he cried, pushing my hand away. Biting his lip he then peered down at the stage anxiously. No one seemed to have noticed his outburst. At least no one looked up at us. He took a deep breath, apparently trying to calm down. As far as I could tell it didn't work at all. "I am worried," he repeated in an urgent whisper. "I don't like the idea of her lying in bed with you…"
"Why not?" I asked instantly. There were many things I despised, and people who changed their moral standards every other minute were one of them. "Only two nights ago you sent her to me, so that we'd make love. And now she's not even allowed to lie next to me anymore? That's something you've got to explain to me."
I glared at him. I had not forgotten the state Christine had been in when she had come to me that night, her eagerness to fulfil her husband's wishes combined with her own fear. If I could make him consider all that at least a little, this discussion would have been a success in more than one respect.
After several moments of looking down at his shoes and some more chewing on his lip he seemed to have found a reply.
"Lying in bed together… it's something husband and wife do," he explained hesitantly. "So you shouldn't do it with her."
"Have I understood that correctly?" I wanted to know. "You'd approve of me making love to her, as long as I stand up afterwards and don't fall asleep next to her?" I rolled my eyes. And there were people who thought I were insane!
I had expected a retort, but none came. When I took a closer look at him, I noticed that he seemed to have shrunk under my gaze, till he was no more than a completely helpless boy.
"No," he muttered. "No, no, no… I don't want any of this. I don't want you living in my house and spending time with my children and being in bed with my wife. I don't want all that…"
He looked so miserable that I almost pitied him. Well, not quite.
"You have that family all the time," I told him in the soft voice usually reserved for people I actually cared about. "All I want is a few days with them. I can assure you that I'll protect them till my last breath. You know that you won't find anyone better, or you wouldn't have come here."
Sensing that I was reaching him, I lowered my voice to a whisper far more persuasive than he could ever be.
"Your servants won't have to call me ´Master´, your children won't have to call me ´Papa´, and Christine… I won't force her to do anything she doesn't want. If she tells me to sleep in a guestroom, I'll do it. Please… just say yes."