September 18th 1892: Christine
Jacqueline and I were surprised by Erik's sudden appearance – too surprised to speak. Yet Antoinette didn't know such problems. She saw her chance and seized it.
"I'd like to talk to you about your mask," she replied. "Why do you wear it? And what's under it? Is it something terrible? Can I have a look?"
I jumped slightly as his fingers dug into my shoulders. Yet that small physical pain was nothing compared to the searing pain that shot through my heart as I turned around and saw his face. It had gone almost as white as the mask, and his eyes were bulging slightly. The effect wasn't lost on my daughter. She looked up at him with anxiety in her eyes, which was something that happened very rarely to my brave little girl.
For a few moments, no one moved or spoke. The tension was as thick as fog in the corridor. My mind was racing. Why hadn't I been here sooner? Why hadn't I made Antoinette go before Erik had come downstairs? Why had I been too slow? Yet all those questions were pointless, now that it had already happened. My daughter and Erik had met, and she had uttered what was on her mind, just like she always did. This time, however, it could cause a catastrophe.
In the end it was Jacqueline who broke the silence.
"That's enough, Antoinette," she told her sharply. "It's not polite to pester M.Erik with questions that private, especially not the first time you see him in the morning, when he's still sleepy. You haven't even said ´Good morning´ yet."
I threw the maid a grateful glance. I could only hope that the girl wouldn't notice that Erik didn't look sleepy at all, and that he obviously thought of anything but the questions whether someone had said ´Good morning´ to him.
"I'm sorry," Antoinette muttered meekly, her eyes still glued to Erik's face. "I just wanted to ask you those questions. Philippe wants to know it, too. But if you're too sleepy…"
"Yes, I am," Erik said, in a strangely hollow voice. "I am very, very sleepy. But I will tell you what you want to know, just not now. We'll talk about it in the evening, when you come back from your teacher. We'll sit down in the living room, all of us, and then… we'll talk. Yes."
"Thank you," my daughter said. She looked as if she wanted to go on, but Jacqueline simply took her hand and opened the door.
"We'll see each other in the evening then," she called as they walked down the steps. "Goodbye, Madame. Goodbye, M.Erik."
"Goodbye," Antoinette cried very loudly, probably to show that this time she hadn't forgotten it.
"Goodbye," we chorused.
When the door was closed behind them, I started talking immediately.
"I'm so sorry, Erik. I should have warned you. The topic was brought up yesterday, after Meg's coachman had insulted you. When you went outside with him, the children asked me why he had done so and what was wrong with your face, but I refused to tell them without you knowing about it. Instead I… I promised you'd tell them yourself today. Of course I didn't consider that Antoinette would seize the first chance… But that doesn't matter now. It's all my fault… Can you forgive me?" I threw him a pleading glance.
"Nothing's your fault," he assured me, letting go of my shoulders abruptly. "The subject would have come up sooner or later. Now that it's there, I… I'll just have to deal with it. But I need a little time to think about it… alone. Will you excuse me?" He didn't wait for my reply, but simply turned around and walked up the stairs. After a few steps he started running.
I stood there in stunned silence. Only the door snapping shut upstairs pulled me out of my reverie. He was gone. And I? I could as well go to breakfast. Erik had made it clear that he didn't want me at the moment, and I could understand him. What should he want to do with the woman who was the cause of all his trouble? Admittedly he had said that he didn't blame me, but I didn't believe that. I could count myself lucky if he'd still talk to me by the time he'd come down again.
I walked down the corridor slowly. I didn't feel like eating anymore. But then, Jaqueline had told us that Philippe had been worried because of our absence at the table. So I'd be able to make at least him happy by showing up there. Of course I'd have to make up an excuse why Erik wasn't there as well, but that shouldn't be a problem. Lately, I had become very good at lying again.
ErikI managed to make it to my room without bursting into tears and was rather proud of my self-restraint. Yet the moment the door was closed, my self-restraint crumbled, and the first tears began to run down my cheeks. I hadn't wanted Christine or anyone else to see me like this, but now that I was alone, it didn't matter.
Ten minutes before, I had still been happy. I had dressed carefully, knowing that Christine would soon look at me again with love in her eyes. I had never felt this good about my body before. Actually I had never given it much thought before. Yet now that the woman I loved had said that she liked the way I looked… It had made me feel wonderfully self-confident. Perhaps, I had told myself, things would be all right after all. Perhaps I'd be able to be a normal man, just like she was a normal woman.
A little girl had changed everything. Without being aware of it, she had reminded me of the one fact that, probably for the first time in my life, had not been on my mind anyway: I was not like everyone else. My mask was a mystery, something that had to be explained, that caused curiosity and anxiety. It was something that wasn't normal.
I didn't blame Antoinette. How could I have done so without being a hypocrite? After all, it was I who constantly proclaimed that curiosity was a good and useful character trait. Besides, the things I had told Christine had been true: I had known that one day the children would ask questions about the mask and demand answers from me. Yet knowing something in theory and actually seeing it happen were two very different things.
I had thought about possible explanations a long time ago. I had even written down a few facts on a sheet of paper that was lying somewhere in my study now. Yet none of those things would help me. Thinking about them now, I realised they were far too abstract for children to understand. I had written them down when Philippe had still been an infant, when I hadn't even seen him once. Yet the day I had first met him, I had known things would be different from the way I had imagined them.
´I cannot stay long,´ were Jacqueline's first words when she came into the garden. ´Madame has fallen asleep, but the moment she wakes up, she'll want to know where Philippe is, and if she finds out that I've taken him outside without her permission…´ She didn't finish her sentence, but simply made a face. I understood what she wanted to say.
Cautiously I peered down at the bundle she held in her arms. Wrapped in a white blanket was a baby, exactly one month and fourteen days old. Only his head and arms were visible. He had soft wisps of blond hair and a tiny nose. I had studied human anatomy and physiology for years, and still I couldn't believe that anything that small could actually be a human being.
´Here, you can take him for a moment,´ the girl said. She was probably growing tired of watching me admire the boy. ´That's what you wanted to have him outside for, isn't it?´
The thought of holding him in my arms made my heart beat wildly, but I tried to appear calm. I didn't want the maid to see me nervous. It would have undermined my authority. So I merely nodded.
´You've got to hold him like this… yes… make sure you support the head,´ she instructed me while bringing the baby into the right position. He had been asleep before, but the sudden motions had woken him up. To my enormous relief he didn't cry. He opened his big blue eyes and gazed up at me in wonder.
´Good day, Philippe Charles,´ I whispered. ´My name is Erik. I'll be your teacher. When you're old enough, you'll inherit my whole world and rule over it like a king. Do you like that?´
´Maybe it's a little too complicated for a baby,´ Jacqueline suggested cautiously.
´That could be true,´ I muttered. ´Let's just say I'm… Uncle Erik then. I'll tell you many things and help you when you have problems. I'll always be there for you. Better?´
I stretched out a finger to touch his little nose, but he seemed to have other plans. His tiny hand closed around my finger and held it in a surprisingly firm grip.
´I guess this means ´yes´,´ I commented. I was glad that Jacqueline didn't notice the tears in my eyes. How could I have explained that a baby had just stolen the mighty Opera Ghost's heart?
Wiping my eyes I sank down on the bed. Things had been so promising back then. Philippe hadn't cared about the mask. About a year ago I had told him that I needed it, just like other people needed glasses or a walking cane, and he had accepted it… until now. I was feeling utterly helpless. How could I explain what my face looked like without scaring him? Would he still love me once he knew how repulsive I truly was? I didn't know the answer, and that lack of knowledge made me frightened.