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Chapter Seventy-Nine

September 16th 1892: Raoul

"So, when will you be leaving?" the Phantom asked as soon as he had pocketed his copy of the contract. He seemed positively cheerful, which was slightly unnerving. Certain people simply weren't supposed to be that cheerful; it didn't suit them. Seeing him like this made me questions my decision again. Had I maybe even overlooked something in the contract, something that made him happy now?

One thing was certain: He wanted to move in as quickly as possible. Yet since that was one of the facts I couldn't change anymore, I could as well give him the information he needed.

"I'll leave at about two in the afternoon," I replied shortly, hastily adding: "But you don't have to come to our house at that time. No one would dare smash windows in broad daylight, and I advised everybody not to open letters or anything else that might be sent to our door. So there's little that can happen. It should be enough for you to come at dusk… That would also be better for the neighbours.".

The latter reason was something that had just occurred to me. What would our neighbours say if they saw a stranger move in our house, especially a male stranger who was wearing a mask? Since we were living in a wealthy part of the city, the other houses didn't stand too close to ours, but of course one had a good view on the street from all of them. I could practically see the cooks and maids standing at the windows, gossiping.

Yet I should have known that curious neighbours didn't bother the Phantom.

"You can be sure I'll be there before dusk," he told me. "The whole effect would be ruined if I arrived in the dark."

"Effect?" I repeated weakly. Was he planning a big appearance that would make everyone talk behind our backs for years?

My suspicion seemed to have been visible on my face, for he answered:

"I'm not talking about the kind of effect you're thinking of. I have no interest in scaring your neighbours. But have you never considered the possibility that someone might watch your house? The attack has made me almost certain of it. Most windows were smashed in your bedroom, so the attackers knew where it was. Otherwise they could have taken any windows, probably even on the ground floor. No, they knew who lives in which room.".

"That's all very well, but how does it connect to the time of your arrival?" I wanted to know, a little annoyed because he had thought of something I hadn't.

"What will happen if those people see you leave? They'll think the house was unprotected and attack again, and I won't be there to prevent it," he explained. "So I have to move in when you leave, as long as it's day. Then they'll see me and think twice about coming close to me."

I nodded. Despite his overly self-confident manner, he was right. It wouldn't have been wise to leave my wife and children alone, even only for a few hours. No gossip could be as important as their safety. Maybe I'd be able to make up a story for the neighbours later. Fortunately most of them didn't know anything about what had happened at the opera ten years ago. I was very grateful that the Baroness and her husband didn't live nearby.

Seizing the sheet of paper I told him:

"I'll go now. You surely have many things to prepare, and so do I.".

"Goodbye, Vicomte," he said, the incorrect title sounding even more like an insult, now that I had read it correctly on the contract.

He stood up and had already reached the door when I caught up with him and squeezed through the partly open door first. After all, I couldn't lock it, and it could have led to a very awkward situation if he had left me behind there.

Since none of us had the desire to make conversation, our ways parted quickly, and a few minutes later I was walking down the street again. The fact that I wouldn't see the Phantom for a while was the only aspect about my travel to Norway I actually liked. Yet of course there also was the knowledge that he'd spend that time with my family… and I hadn't even told Christine about it yet.

The thought hit me so suddenly that I stopped dead. Maybe I should have asked my wife before deciding that he could stay at out home all the time. After all, she'd be the one who'd have all the trouble with him. I couldn't imagine the children would mind his presence, and the servants would probably be glad about the protection. But what if Christine disapproved?

Or – even worse – what if she approved a little too much? I had analysed before that my fear of losing my family was stronger than anything else, but it was closely followed by my fear that my wife could give in to the Phantom. Admittedly nothing had happened two nights ago; I accepted that as a fact by now. Yet it meant very little for the future. At that time he had been the one who hadn't wanted to make love, for whatever reason. Perhaps she hadn't even tried to persuade him very hard.

Now he'd be the one responsible for the persuasion, and I had no doubt he'd do it properly. With me out of the country, he'd have several nights in which to take advantage of Christine's loneliness and fear of new attacks and offer her a very special form of consolation. I could see it very clearly in my head: bony arms holding her slim body tight, hands wandering over thick curls towards the delicate flesh of her neck, chaste kisses on the forehead turning into passionate ones on the mouth… If he was lucky, it could very well work like that.

Yes, he had told me he'd respect her wishes and sleep in the guestroom if she wanted him to. Yet how much was that promise actually worth? I had heard of mysterious techniques which made a person forget his or her own opinion and adopt someone else's. What if he'd use that on her? But the absolutely worst scenario possible was that she'd simply agree to make love to him out of her own free will. I didn't think I'd survive that.

"Never!" I only realised I had really shouted out that word when I noticed a little girl running away from me. She had probably begged me for money, and I had seemingly given her a rather unfriendly reply. Quickly I walked away, before anyone could see me. So I was scaring children now. Things were getting better and better.

The contract was rustling in my pocket. I still insisted on believing it had been a good idea to write it. With the help of that piece of paper I'd be able to get the Phantom out of the house again, even by contacting a lawyer in case it would be necessary. Yet it wasn't any help with my current problem. I needed something else. Maybe I should make another contract with Christine, in which she'd promise not to make love to her former teacher.

The conversation that had to precede such a contract wouldn't be pleasant, though. My wife would surely tell me the same things I had already heard from the Phantom, and just like him she'd be right. I couldn't expect her to follow my orders, doing one thing on one day and the opposite on the other day. Besides, I was no fool. I knew that a sheet of paper couldn't keep two people from doing something they both wanted. Perhaps that was just the solution: I didn't need something else. What I needed was someone else, an ally.

It only took me a few more minutes to reach my home. Throwing a brief glance into the stable I smiled. The coach wasn't there. So Christine was still at the seamstress' with Philippe. Now I could only hope she hadn't taken the person I wanted to talk to with her. Once my wife was back, I'd have to talk to her as well, and things would get more complicated. I had to make sure everything was settled before her return.

I found her in Antoinette's room, picking up toys from the floor and putting them into a large wooden box.

"Good day, Jacqueline," I greeted her.

She spun around.

"Oh, M. de Chagny, you startled me," she said, her breathing a little faster than usual. "I thought I were alone here. You know, Jacques has taken Madame and the boy to the seamstress, Antoinette is at her teacher's, Larisse has gone to the market, and Gabriel is still too ill to get up. So when I heard a voice…"

"I'm sorry," I apologised. "I didn't mean to scare you." I kneeled down on the floor next to her, which earned me a suspicious glance. I didn't often sit on the floor.

"Is there… anything I can do for you, Monsieur?" she asked hesitantly.

"As a matter of fact, there is indeed something," I replied. In a few sentences I told her where I had been this morning and what I had achieved. "And now I'm afraid that something more than friendship could develop between them," I said.

"I see," she muttered. "But what can I do about it?"

"You can help me while I'm not here," I answered eagerly. "It's very simple, really. All you have to do is pay attention to how my wife behaves, especially in the mornings. Is she exceptionally cheerful or maybe rather sad and subdued? Maybe she won't be quite herself. The nights are very important as well. If you hear anything… strange from the bedroom, you should send me a letter right away. Perhaps she won't know how to defend herself. Then you'll have to help her." I looked into her eyes seriously. "Will you do that for us, Jacqueline?"