September 16th 1892: Christine
We gazed at each other for what felt like years, although it couldn't have been more than a few moments. Erik was very good at this. He could look at me in a way that made me give in automatically. Yet today that would not happen. I didn't want to give in again. I wanted… yes, I wanted him. It was as simple as that.
I hadn't known before how much I wanted him. There had been nothing but a vague feeling in my stomach. Yet the feeling had grown when I had listened to my children singing. It had been such a nice song, and it had been sung so very well. I had had no idea my little ones had such good voices. It had been an almost symbolic experience for me, as if Erik had tried to send me a message: Look at what I can make your children do! They are just like you were…
This was the reason why I had cried. They had reminded me so much of myself, of the anxious little girl I had once been… the girl Erik had given everything to in order to make her a singer. Gratitude had simply overwhelmed me in that one moment. He was such a good person. He only deserved what was best for him. And that could only be me.
When Erik had sung himself then, I had been even more touched. Reason told me that he couldn't even have known I had still been there, for I had gone back to the living room. Still I felt as if he had only sung for me. After all, the song had been about how wonderful it was to come home after a long day outside. At the moment, we were his home. I fully intended to make these few days he'd be with us the best in his life.
Yet what had been most convincing that I was right had been the story. It hadn't been difficult to work out that it had been about him and me. He wanted me to help him and to be his friend, just like the mouse had become the dragon's friend. We already were friends, of course, but maybe we could be even more for each other.
"There's nothing you have to be afraid of," I told him softly. "I won't do anything you don't want me to." Even while I was speaking, it occurred to me what a strange situation this was: Usually I was the one who was hesitant, who had to be persuaded. And now it was just the other way round. I tugged at his arm again, feeling like someone trying to comfort a frightened horse.
"I know," he said after a moment, although he didn't sound as if he knew it. "But I don't want to take any risks. What if we get overwhelmed by our feelings?"
"Isn't that what making love is about?" I asked, having made sure that Jacqueline had closed the door to Philippe's room after her. I didn't want anyone to hear me use such words. "Letting one's feelings take charge and forgetting everything else?"
Slowly he shook his head.
"It would only work like that for a few moments," he replied with a sad smile. "Yes, we would enjoy ourselves, but what about afterwards? There always is an afterwards…"
"Afterwards we'd just go on living, the way we always did," I said eagerly. It was a good sign that he was already thinking about afterwards, wasn't it? It meant he wasn't completely opposed to doing it. "I know you don't like changes, but nothing would change between us."
"Everything would change between us," Erik stressed. "Do you really think we could go on as if nothing had happened? Do you really think that's what I want? And how do you imagine our life would be? At day we'd pretend to be just friends, and at night I'd sneak into your room? I'd have never thought I'd say that in connection with you, but I deserve better than that. Good night, Christine."
With these words he pulled his hand out of my grasp and walked the few steps to his room, closing the door almost soundlessly. It was only when he was no longer standing there that I realised what had happened.
"Erik…" I called. "Erik, no… I'm sorry." I hurried after him and pushed down the door handle, but it was locked. It was actually locked. The meaning of this action was unmistakable: He didn't want me. There was no point in trying to persuade him to open. He wouldn't do it anyway.
Slowly I shuffled into my bedroom. Although it surely wasn't much later than nine o'clock, I prepared myself for going to bed. A good book was the most I could expect from the end of this day. Raoul and I liked sitting in the living room with a glass of wine in the evening, talking. Yet I doubted that would be still possible with Erik. I had hurt him too much.
Actually I hadn't even said that much, but it had been enough to offend him. Or hadn't it been my words, but his interpretation of them? He had made it sound as if I wanted him as a weird male version of a mistress. Yet that was simply not true. I wanted him as… I stopped dead, my hands in the middle of opening my dress, as I realised it was true. If I had wanted him as much as he wanted me, I'd have left my husband and gone to Erik. I finally had to understand that I couldn't have both of them.
I continued undressing and put on my dressing gown, so that I could walk over to the bathroom without being afraid of someone seeing me. Arriving there I looked at myself in the mirror for a while. I was unnaturally pale, and my eyes had an almost feverish gleam, yet at least the traces of tears were no longer visible. I had hastily wiped my face when I had returned to the living room.
Still I didn't look healthy. Maybe… maybe I was getting ill. Yes, it had to be like that. I had come too close to Gabriel when Raoul and I had discussed our situation with the servants, and now I had a cold as well. I should better lie down immediately. Erik would surely come if I called for him in a faint voice, and then I could –
No! I frowned at my reflection, shocked about the direction into which my thoughts had wandered. I would certainly not pretend to be ill to get his attention. I wasn't a little girl anymore. Erik would realise what was going on at once and be apalled. Besides, I had sworn myself not to lie. It was time for behaving the way adults did.
Quickly I finished my visit to the bathroom and returned to my bedroom, sitting down at the table. I wanted to apologise to Erik, but I wasn't sure he'd listen to me. So I had decided to write him a letter.
Dear Erik,
I am truly sorry for my behaviour. I didn't want to give you the impression that I only want you and me to… you know, do it because I feel like it. You're probably right: Things would change between us. And until I know what this means, we should better stay away from each other at night. The mouse is afraid she might swallow up the dragon.
ChristineI folded the sheet of paper twice and left it on the table as I went to bed, putting my dressing gown on the chair next to it. The temptation to deliver the letter right now was strong, but I resisted it. He probably wouldn't even open the door. Yet most importantly I didn't trust myself. Writing that I'd stay away from him was very well, but I wasn't sure whether I'd be that strong-willed if I stood in front of him.
It had been a while since the last time I had slept alone, and I hated it. This bed was made for two persons. For me alone it was much too big and too cold. I wrapped the blanket around me tightly, yet it didn't get better. I was still feeling cold and lonely. I imagined Raoul lying next to me… or was it Erik? In that state between being awake and asleep I couldn't tell, and it didn't matter either. I longed for someone to be there, to take me into his arms and press soft kisses into my hair. The longing was so strong that it felt like a low burning in my stomach. It was this burning that I finally fell asleep with.