September 17th 1892: Christine
It was strange to think about it, but in a way the food had managed to do something Meg hadn't: I felt much calmer now. It was very hard to be worried when one's belly was filled with delicious chocolate cake. I was content with myself and the world and ready to believe that tonight would be a night to remember… and not in a negative way.
Still I couldn't help noticing that even though Erik had said he had been looking forward to eating the cake, not even half of his piece had vanished from the plate. He pushed the remaining part from one side to the other and finally gave it to Philippe, who devoured it happily. I wondered why Erik was looking so sad. He had been so happy abut our wedding, and now there didn't seem to be much left of that feeling.
It had to be the attacks. Yes, that was the only explanation. He was worried about what could happen and that he might not be able to protect us. I wanted to take that fear from him. Seeing his right hand lying on his thigh under the table I reached for it. He jumped slightly and looked over at me, as if he had been miles away with his thoughts. I gave him an encouraging smile.
"It'll be all right," I murmured. He merely threw me a sceptical glance. Apparently he was not that optimistic.
After Larisse had fetched the plates and everything else, we stayed at the table for a little while, discussing what to do next.
"Antoinette and Jacqueline will be here any minute," I informed the others. "My daughter and you will be busy all afternoon, won't you, Meg?" I addressed my friend.
"Oh yes," she replied. "Times always passes quickly once we've started practicing. The girl is such a joy to work with. Some of the dancers at the opera could take a leaf out of her book.. Few show such determination."
I smiled, recalling my own past as a member of the chorus. I had never liked dancing quite as much as singing, so I didn't blame the girls whose preferences were the same. Yet I also knew how annoying it was for Meg and Mme.Giry to work with people who actually wanted to do something different.
"I'm glad that Antoinette enjoys dancing," I said. "A girl as vivacious as her has to be kept in constant motion, or she would go insane."
"And she keeps me in constant motion," Meg remarked. "Sometimes I feel as if I were teaching a dozen girls. No one ever asked me that many questions before."
"But it's better to get used to it now, isn't it?" Erik joined the conversation. "One day you'll take over your mother's position at the opera." It was such an excellent observation that I couldn't help wondering why I hadn't thought about it before myself.
Meg looked a little surprised as well, yet after a moment she nodded.
"I know I can't stay a dancer for all times," she muttered pensively. "And my mother isn't getting any younger. She never complains about anything, of course, but I can feel it. Still… I'm sure she'll go on teaching as long as possible, just like I'll go on dancing as long as possible. And no matter what'll happen, I'll always teach Antoinette. If I stopped doing so, my mother would never forgive me. She hates talent being wasted."
This made us all smile. We knew Mme.Giry's opinion about such matters only too well. It occurred to me that she was like a link between the three of us. Meg was her daughter, of course, but Mme.Giry had more or less adopted me as her daughter as well, and in a way, even Erik was her child, or rather, her protégé.
"We should invite your mother to dinner one of these days," I suggested. "I'd like to see her again."
"Oh, you'll probably see her sooner than you think," Erik told me. "You know, we should go to the opera this afternoon, Philippe, you and I. It's time for another one of his lessons, and you're free to join us… unless you have other plans, that is…"
"No, I don't have any plans," I gave back. "Going to the opera will be nice. But we'll have to wait till Antoinette and Jacqueline return, or we won't have a coach."
"I wanted to do so anyway," he explained. "I won't leave the house before I can be sure they have come back alive and well."
"Why shouldn't they be alive and well?" Philippe asked, frowning.
"Oh… that was just a figure of speech," Erik replied hastily. "It's nothing to worry about."
I threw him a questioning glance. It was not like him to let something that important slip. There had to be a big problem bothering him, or he wouldn't have been that careless. I gave his hand a light squeeze. No matter what it was, we'd get through it together.
"So, we'll be going to the opera then," I repeated cheerfully, eager to change the subject. "I'm looking forward to being there again. But who else will be there, Meg? There are no rehearsals for the dancers, are there?"
"No," she replied. "The musicians will practice, though, and as far as I know, Signora Marchesi will have a singing lesson on stage. She likes having them there because she's in love with the sound of her own voice. But I don't have to tell you that, do I?"
"We're all aware of that sad fact," Erik remarked dryly. "Though I have yet to find a reason for it… That woman is a nightmare."
"Isn't she the one who pushed me out of her way once?" Philippe wanted to know. Once more, I was surprised about him. In one moment I had the impression that he wasn't listening to our conversation, and in the next one he showed that he hadn't missed a word.
"Yes, that's the woman we're talking about," I answered. "Are you still angry at her?"
"No," the boy said. "Uncle Erik made her pay for what she did to me." His casual comment was accompanied by a smile, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to say for a little child.
Meg and I glanced at Erik, who didn't seem to be irritated in the slightest. On the contrary: He looked rather pleased that his pupil had already taken over so much of his way of thinking. I, however, was not pleased at all. Yet I knew I couldn't discuss it now, in front of the child. Philippe wouldn't like it if I criticised his beloved Uncle Erik. I shook my head a little to indicate that my friend shouldn't say anything either. I could still bring up the topic later, once we'd be alone.
"That's good," I muttered, for I felt as if I had to comment on what my son had said. "So you won't mind seeing her at the opera. Maybe we can just cover our ears with our hands every time we come close to the stage," I added, making everyone chuckle.
We nearly missed Larisse entering the room.
"Excuse me for interrupting you, but there's someone at the door," she said. "You told me not to open it myself, but wait for M.Erik, Madame. So I've come here to get him."
"You've done just the right thing," Erik praised her as he stood up. We others followed him out into the corridor. My heart beat had sped up. I told myself that there was no reason for being frightened, for it most certainly were Antoinette, Jacqueline and Jacques at the door, but it didn't help much.
"Who's there?" Erik called.
"It is Jacques," the person standing outside replied. "I have fetched Mesdemoiselles Jacqueline and Antoinette from the little Mademoiselle's teacher. It would be very kind if you could open the door and let us enter." Hearing those words no one had the slightest doubt about who the man was. Even Erik didn't seemed to find it necessary to look through the window first. He opened the door right away.
"Did anything unusual happen?" Erik asked Jacques after the initial greetings were over. He seized the chance to talk to him while Antoinette was telling her brother about what she had learned today.
"No," the butler answered.
Erik nodded.
"We'd like to visit the opera this afternoon," he then told him. "But you deserve a little break first. Go to the kitchen. The cook will give you something to eat and drink."
"That's very nice of you, Monsieur," Jacques said and left.
"How long will you be gone?" Meg wanted to know. "Will we see each other again before my lesson will be over and I'll go home?"
"We'll certainly see each other," Erik replied firmly. "I want to make sure that you really arrive at your home unharmed. So I'll take you there in our coach."
Meg opened her mouth to argue, but he just went on:
"I know you have your coach here, but Jacques can drive it home for you and return together with me. The moment you entered this house, you've become part of my responsibility. We can't know what the attacker is up to. If anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself.".