September 16th 1892: Erik
The interesting thing about going for a walk was that one didn't necessarily have to think much while doing it. The park wasn't big enough to lose one's way in it, so I didn't have to pay attention to where I was going. Almost automatically I avoided the area where the others were. I kept walking and walking, forcing myself to think nothing but ´The birds are singing nicely today.´ and ´Oh, what lovely flowers.´. I couldn't bear thinking about anything else, even though I had told Christine the opposite.
Yet unfortunately I didn't manage to stay in that state for a very long time. I knew there were people whose thoughts remained on that superficial level for all their lives, but my mind was yearning for a good pondering, no matter how painful it was. It wanted to analyse a problem, to break it up into little pieces and put it together again, so that it would make more sense than before. I sighed as I pushed the last thought about flowers out of my head and gave in to my mind's wish. Sometimes I hated my own brilliance.
To the logical part of my mind, the whole situation was fairly simple: I wanted her. She wanted me. We wanted each other. So we'd just make love and be happy with it. That part of me didn't bother thinking about anything but the bare facts. Emotions were unwanted, for they distracted from finding an easy solution as quickly as possible.
Yet while it was all very well for my mind to try and keep my feelings out of it on a theoretical basis, I couldn't do the same in the real world. Feelings existed, and I couldn't just ignore them and hope they might go away. So why not use a completely emotional approach? It was worth a try. I stopped walking at a secluded spot between some trees, closed my eyes and focused on my emotions.
I loved Christine. I loved her more than anyone else in the world. That feeling had stayed with me over the years, though I hadn't even been able to talk to her. Now it was stronger than ever because I knew that maybe she returned it, but even if she didn't, it would always be there. To me, love had always been something eternal.
And to her? Did she even love me? No one knew the answer, possibly not even Christine herself. Sometimes she acted as if she did, and sometimes she acted as if she didn't. Her signs weren't clear, not even to someone like me, who had watched her and studied the way she reacted for years. It was slowly driving me insane, but I was also aware that forcing a decisions out of her wouldn't have got any results either. After all, we had already tried that, and things were still the way they had been, maybe even worse.
I opened my eyes again, realising the emotional approach wasn't working either. How could I find a solution when half of the things I needed to know were just guesswork? In order to find an answer in that way, I'd have had to open her head and search all her thoughts to know what exactly she was feeling. And perhaps not even that would have worked. I wondered whether I was slowly getting just as confused as she was.
Christine was not the only one who had become different over the years. I had changed as well. If she had come to me and asked me to make love to her ten years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated long. I'd have laughed at anyone telling me to consider the consequences carefully. Yet when she had really come to me, I had considered the consequences myself. That was why I had said no.
I hadn't only become older, but also more thoughtful. I wasn't sure whether that was something good, though. Admittedly I'd have got only a few moments of bliss if I had given in to her. Yet that would have been better than nothing, wouldn't it? Of course not. My guilty conscience would have tormented me mercilessly afterwards. And knowing that Christine would have gone through the same… no, it was better the way it had happened.
But what did this conclusion tell me about the future? What would I do if she came to me tonight and made the same offer as two nights before? I wanted to make love to her. I wanted it so much that I could feel the wish in every part of me. It seemed to rush through my body like something poured into my very blood.
I mustn't do it, even if it hadn't been for my guilty conscience. What I had told Christine that night was still true: I wanted all of her, not only her body. Yet if I had her body once, I'd try to get the rest as well. I didn't think I'd sink that low as to abduct her a second time, but I'd search for another way of having her and wouldn't rest until I found one. It wouldn't be over after one night.
Yes, I had to reject her, no matter how hard it would be. It would be best for both of us. Still I couldn't help wondering if it wouldn't have been better not to know that she wanted me, too. Yet I refused to believe that. This knowledge would help me ease the pain that turned my heart to ice in lonely nights. At least I could have had her.
By the time I had come to that little comforting conclusion I realised that I had to go back. A glance on my pocket watch told me Jacques would wait for us at the gate in less than half an hour, and I was still quite far away from the place where I could find the others. So I had to hurry up. I marched down the path I had come from, glad that I possessed a rather good sense of direction.
Soon I spotted them. Christine was still sitting on the bench. She seemed to have hardly moved since I had left her. Her face was a little paler than usual. At once pity welled up inside me. I longed for taking her into my arms and telling her I'd do whatever she wanted, if only to make her happy. Yet for once, reason defeated my emotions. Instead of approaching her, I went over to the children.
Philippe saw me immediately.
"Uncle Erik!" he called. "Will you play with us?"
"I'm afraid that's not possible," I told him with a shrug. "You know, it's time to go."
"Oh no…" the children groaned. No matter how different they were, they agreed on the subject of leaving: They didn't want to. Suddenly I was confronted with two sad little faces and two trembling bottom lips. I felt rather helpless. What was I supposed to do? It was hard enough to deal with my boy alone when he was in this mood.
Fortunately Jacqueline came to help me.
"M.Erik is right," she said in a gentle, but firm voice. "We mustn't let Jacques wait. He could become all sullen." Secretly I wondered how the butler could become any more sullen than he already was, but I didn't utter my thought. I didn't want to be a bad example for the children. "Look. There's your mother coming as well," the maid added.
Christine must have seen me and decided to check why I had returned. She threw me a sideways glance that spoke of how much I had hurt her feelings by not coming to her first, and I had to fight back my guilty conscience.
"We have to go," I told her simply.
She merely nodded.
"Why don't Antoinette, Philippe and you already go?" she then suggested to Jacqueline. "Erik and I will be with you in a minute."
The maid took the children's hands, and they left.
I pulled the parasol out of the ground, glad about having a reason not to look at her directly.
"Erik, I've done some thinking," she told me, her voice trembling slightly. "I… I want you to sleep in my bed tonight. I think I'll be able to handle the consequences. So we could just wait and see what happens…"
I was so surprised that the parasol fell out of my hands. I hadn't expected such a reply. Yet when I looked up at her, I saw her huge child-like eyes and knew I had to say what was right.
"I've also done some thinking," I said. "I'm almost sure that I wouldn't be able to handle the consequences, and I doubt it would be any different for you. I don't want either of us to get hurt. So I decided to sleep in the guestroom. I'm… sorry."
With these words I hurried to catch up with the others and seized Philippe's other hand. It was warm in mine, but I could still feel Christine's icy stare in my back.