September 17th 1892: Christine
Meg arrived early. Several hours early, to be precise. That in itself was rather unusual, for she tended to be the one to arrive just on time. And here she was now, standing at my door, and it wasn't even noon yet.
"Is anyone there?" she called, knocking at the door impatiently. The reason for her impatience was clear: She had already knocked a few times, but I could only let her in now, after I had peered through a window and had made sure it was really her. These days I couldn't afford being careless anymore.
"You should think about hiring a new butler," was the first thing she said when I finally opened the door. "I know your Jacques has been in Raoul's employment for years, but he doesn't seem to hear very well anymore. Or why do you have to take over his tasks?" She winked at me, and I smiled, realising how much I had missed her sense of humour.
"Oh, it's good to see you!" I exclaimed, pulling her into a brief embrace with one arm, while the other one closed the door quickly.
"It's also good to see you," she remarked. "How long has it been since the last time we met, just the two of us?"
"A few weeks, maybe?" I muttered. "Too long, that much is certain."
"That's why I came a little sooner," Meg explained. "I know that once Antoinette will be home, we won't have time for talking anymore. So I left the rehearsal early. Maman didn't mind. She was working on a scene in which I'm not on stage anyway. Is it all right if I invite myself to lunch here? I could eat in a restaurant, of course, but it would be nicer here with you and the children."
I needed a moment to understand all the pieces of information she had hurled at me within seconds.
"Sometimes I think Antoinette should be your daughter instead of mine," I commented. "She has the same way of talking."
"Well, I've been around her too often since her birth. I spoiled her," she gave back, far from being hurt. She was aware that I didn't mind her talking that much. It was just one of her habits.
"Let me have a look at you," she then demanded, stepping backwards to take in my whole appearance. "You don't look good," she remarked after a few moments of examining me critically. "Where do those dark rings under your eyes come from? Didn't you sleep well last night?"
"That's one of the reasons," I started cautiously. There was so much Meg didn't know about.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, and I could practically see the fast-talking, vivacious woman vanish behind the caring best friend. It was then that I realised something: I wanted to talk about it. I wanted to spread out all the things that had happened. Maybe they'd make more sense to her than they did to me.
"It's a very long story," I warned her.
She gave me a warm smile.
"I'm not going anywhere," she told me, gently steering me down the corridor.
I didn't know how much time passed while we were sitting in the living room, and I was talking. I had started the moment I had closed the door behind us, and I didn't plan to stop before everything was out. So far, I hadn't even offered Meg something to drink. She wasn't complaining about it, though. She listened and listened, watching me intently, while I talked and talked, looking out of the window most of the time. Only sometimes I threw her a brief glance to make sure she was still following my story. She was indeed following it.
At last I was finished, having only left out a few minor, embarrassing details.
"And all that happened to you during the last weeks?" she muttered weakly. "I can't believe it. The most interesting thing that happened at my home in that time was our housekeeper falling from a chair while trying to clean the top shelf of the cupboard in the kitchen and spraining her wrist."
"Believe me – if I could choose, I'd rather take the housekeeper with the sprained wrist than all that," I said with a wry smile. "It sounds far less complicated."
"Oh, I don't know," she gave back with a hint of a grin. "She complains all the time because she can't do her work as quickly as usual, and – But that's not the point now. We're talking about you, not my housekeeper."
I gave a little sigh. I should have known she wouldn't fall for that simple method of diversion.
"So, what do you have to say about all this?" I asked. If I couldn't avoid hearing her opinion, I could at least try to get over with it quickly.
"About what specifically?" she gave back. "The situation you're in consists of too many components to be talked about in one or two sentences. Do you want my opinion on the attacks first or on the dilemma with Raoul and Erik?"
"The former," I replied. "It's the easier one." There surely weren't many people who thought that talking about attacks on a family was easier than about two men, yet I seemed to be one of them. At least I knew what to feel about the former. It was far less confusing. The attacks were bad; everyone agreed about that.
"Well, I think it was right not to alert the police," Meg said. "They won't do anything as long as nothing serious happens." I opened my mouth to contradict her, but she simply continued speaking. "I know it's serious for you. I also take it seriously, don't worry about that. Yet for policemen it would be different. They'd regard the whole thing as the act of someone who is angry at Raoul or you. I'd be surprised if they even sent one of their men here to have a look around, especially since there's nothing to see anymore. The window panes have been replaced, and you've buried the bird and thrown away the bag."
"Should we have kept it?" I asked incredulously.
"Of course not," she assured me. "I'd have done the same. I'm just saying that they probably wouldn't believe you."
"I know," I muttered. "I'm just so very frightened, also because of the children. They haven't noticed anything so far, but it's only a matter of time till something happens right in front of them. Oh, I don't want them to get involved. Philippe is easily scared anyway, and Antoinette… I'd hate it if she lost her vivacity."
"They could come to me," she offered with a smile. "I wouldn't mind having them around for a couple of days."
"That's very nice of you, but it's impossible," I declined her offer. "What if the person responsible for all this saw the children leave and went after them? No, they're safer here with Erik."
She gave me a knowing smile.
"You're also feeling safer with Erik, don't you?" she asked teasingly. I remembered that certain undertone in her voice. She had spoken just like that when the relationship between Raoul and me and begun to form.
"Well, yes," I admitted. "I feel safe with him. If there's one person who can protect us, it's Erik."
"But that's not all," Meg said. It was a statement that didn't leave any room for doubts. "After all that you've just told me…"
My gaze fell upon the floor. Several moments passed in silence. I only glanced up when she seized my hand.
"No matter what it is that's going on inside you, you can tell me," she encouraged me. "I'm your best friend. I'd never say a word about it to Raoul… or anyone else, not even to my mother. Your secrets are safe with me."
I took a deep breath.
"I… I do feel attracted to Erik," I confessed, suppressing the urge to make the sign of the cross like in a confession in church. "I… oh, I even suggested that we make love." By now, my voice had dropped to a whisper.
"Oh," Meg made. "And what did he say about it?"
"He rejected me," I replied miserably. "He told me he wanted a complete relationship, not just the physical part. If he had me once, he'd never let me go."
Again, there was silence. Then she said:
"So you know what he wants: you. But what do you want? You've got to think about this carefully, Christine. A wedding ring doesn't stop anyone from being attracted to others. Take me, for example: I often meet handsome men at the opera, but I know I'd never leave Jean for one of them. I have a feeling it could be different for you, though. So… would you leave Raoul for Erik?".