September 18th 1892: Christine
The door was opened before we could even knock.
"Good evening, Mesdames and Messieurs," a butler greeted us. "Would you kindly step inside? Mme. de Gableaux avaits you in the sitting room." The expression on the man's face was perfectly smooth, like the shiny surface of a lake. Even as he took in our appearance, no sign of disapproval could be seen. He acted as though he welcomed the dirty and tired victims of fires every day.
I entered the house after my husband and found myself in the entrance hall. It was rather large, and there were at least half a dozen corridors leading from it. The house seemed to be even bigger than it looked like from the outside. I had only been here on a few occasions, and the last time had been a couple of months ago, so it wasn't surprising that I didn't remember it too well.
"Mademoiselle? Monsieur?" the butler addressed Marielle and Pierre, who had come in last and were looking around, obviously very uneasy in the face of so much wealth. "Would you care to go upstairs to your friend? I'll have food and drink brought up there as well." It sounded like a polite request, but the dismissal was unmistakable. He seemed to think that they were servants as well and didn't want them to go to his mistress.
Marielle and Pierre nodded. I threw them a slightly anxious glance, afraid they might be offended, yet they appeared to be relieved.
"Janelle!" the butler called, and a maid emerged from a room next to the door. "Please show those two the way to their friend."
"Of course," Janelle said readily, smiling. "This way, please." She led them up a staircase and out of sight.
"Would you like to leave your coats here?" the butler asked. He was clearly following the usual procedure for guests, but Raoul and I could only shake our heads about it. It was rather strange to be treated this… normally, as if we were merely coming over for a cup of tea. We were both wearing coats, as a matter of fact. I had been in no condition to take off mine after the criminals had brought me back, and Raoul had had other things to keep him busy when he had come to the house.
We shrugged off our coats and handed them to the butler, who seized them with the same stoic expression on his face and brought them to the coatrack, leaving rather more space than necessary between them and the rest of the clothes.
Noticing how gingerly Raoul moved his left arm, I whispered:
"Is everything all right? Your arm…".
"What? Oh yes," he gave back. "Someone kicked my shoulder during the fight. I expect to get a very colourful bruise, but it's nothing to worry about." He gave me a lopsided smile.
"I'm so sorry," I muttered, patting his other shoulder, wondering how much the embrace I had pulled him into before must have hurt him and how bravely he had endured it.
"I'm fine, really," he assured me. "It's nothing compared to what Jacqueline and Jacques have gone through…"
We were looking at each other in silence, lost in thought, till the butler said:
"If you'd follow me now, please…".
He led us down a corridor to the right. At the fourth door, he stopped and pulled it open.
"The Comte and Comtess de Chagny, Madame," he announced, ushering us inside.
The sitting room was as large as it could be expected in a house of that size. The furniture was very tasteful, with tables and bookshelves made of dark wood and sofas with thick plush upholstery. I felt the urgent wish to wash myself before sitting down anywhere here, but I knew it was not the right time to do so, even if I had had clothes to change into.
I barely had time for that thought before two small figures rushed towards me and flung their little arms around me.
"Maman! Maman!" they cried.
"Ant- Phili-" I stammered, not knowing who to greet first. I was so glad that both of them were here, alive and well. All the panic I had felt before, those horrible emotions that had made me pass out, seemed unfounded all of a sudden. I leaned down and embraced them for a long time. The simple pleasure of holding them in my arms had never felt this sweet before.
At last I remembered that there was someone else the children had to greet, someone they probably hadn't even noticed so far in their haste to get to me as quickly as possible.
"Look who's here!" I told them. "It's your father!"
The children looked up, and a moment later they were gone, clinging to Raoul's legs as they had clung to my skirts. For a moment, I felt the sharp sting of jealousy, but as I saw them together, saw how happy Raoul and the little ones were, that negative feeling vanished as quickly as it had come.
"Papa! Papa!" Antoinette called merrily. "Have you brought us a present? Oh…" She fell silent abruptly, and judging from what I could see from her face, she blushed. I wouldn't have believed that she already possessed so much social awareness that she knew her question had been inappropriate in this situation. Of course neither Raoul nor I scolded her. On the contrary: I thought it heart-warming that the old, ever-curious Antoinette was still there.
"As a matter of fact, I have brought you presents," Raoul replied kindly. "And they weren't even damaged in the fire. You see, the coach I came to Paris with had a little accident, and one of its wheels broke. So I told the coachman to have it repaired and bring me my suitcases later. Since your presents are in those suitcases, it's only a matter of time till they'll arrive."
The children smiled, but their smiles weren't as broad as they'd have usually been when presents were mentioned. Antoinette and Philippe had learned the lesson that there were things more important than presents. It was a valuable lesson, yes, and still I wished they could have learned it in a less painful way.
Looking up from them, I saw that someone else had made their way across the room. Comtess Ginevra de Gableaux came to a halt in front of me.
"Christine…" she said, nodding as a sign of welcome. "I tried to make your children lie down and sleep, and in fact, they did lie down for a while with your cook upstairs. But when they heard you'd be coming here soon, they insisted on waiting for you, even though it must be well past their bed-time. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all, Ginevra, not at all," I assured her. "I wanted to see them awake anyway." I didn't add that at least Philippe always had problems with falling asleep in a place he didn't know. Erik's home was an exception. "They didn't cause you too much trouble, did they?" I asked.
Ginevra went over to a sofa, and I followed her, throwing a last glance at Raoul, who was talking to the children in a low voice.
"Oh no," she then replied airily. "It was quite the surprise, though. I had just sat down with my needle-work when Janelle came in and told me there were a woman and two children at the door. Of course I thought of you right away, since your family is one of the few with small children in this neighbourhood. Yet it turned out to be your new cook instead of you, and the story she told me…" She shook her head. "Well, we alerted the police right away, and I gave the three a room upstairs. Your husband and you can have one as well, by the way. I have so many empty rooms, you know, for the times when the children come to visit us."
I nodded. I knew that Ginevra and her husband, a very friendly man who was hardly ever home, had two sons and a daughter, all of whom were married and had childred of their own.
"Thank you for the offer," I said. "But we've already sent a… erm, a messenger to my friend, who'll surely take us in. I'm not sure how quickly she'll receive the message, though. So it would be very friendly if we could stay here for a little while longer."
"Of course you can stay, as long as you like," Ginevra told me gently. "Are you hungry? I'll have my cook prepare something for you."
She didn't wait for my reply, but waved at a servant to come closer and started giving him instructions. This gave me time to let my thoughts wander. Inevitably, they arrived at Erik. He wouldn't have been pleased to know that I was referring to him as a mere messenger. But then, what else should I have said? ´I sent the Phantom of the Opera, who is a very good friend of mine and also shared my bed last night´?
I couldn't help thinking about when he'd be here. Perhaps he'd accompany Meg. Or else he'd arrive late at night, when everyone would be sleeping. What would I tell him? Would he expect some kind of decision concerning Raoul and him?
"Madame!"
Thankfully, my thoughts were interrupted by the butler who had let us in. He was standing at the door.
"There's a man at the entrance door. He wishes to speak to Mme. de Chagny."