September 18th 1892: Christine
The journey to Meg's home was long and slow. We couldn't drive very fast, for it was dark and the horses didn't know the surroundings. Even the coachman only had a vague idea of where we were going. Jean had rented the coach in front of the opera, since he had rightly assumed we wouldn't all fit into his coach. Fortunately his coachman knew the way, so that our coachman only had to follow him. Still Jean was travelling in our coach, in case we lost the others in the dark.
We had left almost immediately after Raoul, Pierre and Jean had returned from the stable. Ginevra had insisted that we ate the dinner her cook had prepared for us, yet even though my mind had told me that I had to be hungry, I had only been able to force down a few bites. On a day like this, when the world seemed to have stopped turning, doing things as normal as eating just didn't feel right. Raoul seemed to have had similar thoughts, for he had only pushed his food around on his plate. At least the children had eaten something.
After dinner, nothing had been able to hold us back anymore. I couldn't help feeling that Ginevra hadn't wanted to let us go. For a short while, her house had been filled with noise and liveliness. Now she'd be all alone again, till her husband would return in a few days' time. I felt sorry for her, but I couldn't help it either. At least it was much livelier in her stable now, with all the additional horses. Besides, we had promised to visit her soon.
Our coach was rather more crowded than it was comfortable for us. It had clearly not been intended to accommodate more than two or three passengers, but there were five of us. Neither Antoinette nor Philippe had been willing to leave our side, which was something I could understand perfectly well. They were sitting on the bench in front of us, together with Jean, who had insisted on staying with us, in case something else happened and we needed help.
This had left Raoul and me to squeeze onto the tiny second bench, the normal use of which it probably was to have luggage such as handbags and coats thrown onto it. Every now and then, it would protest against the weight by giving a groan. I tried to make myself as light as possible, since I had no intention to land on the floor of the coach if the bench gave way. I almost wished I could have taken the other coach, together with Larissse, Marielle and Pierre, yet since the children and everyone else would have doubtlessly followed me, it would have only shifted the problem.
"Are you comfortable?" Raoul asked me in a low voice.
"Oh yes," I replied sarcastically. "I couldn't imagine a more elegant way of travelling." I was surprised about my own statement. Sarcasm wasn't something I used too often.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "Should I have asked Jean to hire another coach?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you," I mumbled, and there was silence between us again.
For a few moments, I made an attempt to listen to the conversation coming from the front bench, but I gave up quickly. The wheels were rattling too loudly for me to hear much, let alone be able to join in. It was a rather old coach, and the noise it made was much louder than our own coach's. I had the feeling that I could have sung an aria without Jean or the children catching as much as one word. Not that I felt like singing at the moment. My head was beginning to throb unpleasantly.
Stealthily, an arm tried to sneak around my shoulders. I have the hand a sharp little slap.
"Don't do that!" I hissed. "I'm not in the right mood."
"What? Not in the right mood to have your husband's arm around your shoulders?" Raoul gave back. "Well, I'm sorry. The next time I'll wait for a written permission." He snorted derisively. Since when did sarcasm belong to his standard repertoire?
Once more, we were silent. I threw Raoul a sideways glance and saw that his lips were pressed together into a thin line. I knew it would have been my turn to say something friendly, but I didn't feel like doing it. So often when he had been away from home, I had wished that I'd be able to talk to him, and now that he was sitting next to me, I'd have rather been somewhere else.
"You didn't even thank me for saving your life," Raoul stated after a few very tense minutes. "If I hadn't come back – "
"We'd have got by without you," I snapped, annoyed by the whining sound of his voice. "Just like we got by without you before! We got rid of the beggars at the gate alone, I was returned home without you doing anything, and we'd have also got out of this situation alone!" His complacency was making me sick. He was like an actor who walked onto the stage for the last scene and expected all the applause for himself. Did Raoul have any idea how much we had suffered while he had been enjoying his business trip? "Erik would have – " The moment the name left my mouth and I heard the sharp intake of breath, I knew I had made a mistake.
"Aha!" Raoul exclaimed triumphantly, like a man who had solved a complicated riddle. "Now we're finally getting to the core of the problem: the Phantom! Yes, he'd have made everything so much better on his own! He'd have fought all those criminals with one hand while composing an opera about the fight with the other. He'd have brought you to your new place to stay with a much more noble coach, drawn by four white stallions. And I'm sure he'd have been allowed to put his arm around you… and much more than that! Tell me, Christine: Did you lie with him?"
I had expected that question to come up sooner or later, though perhaps not in this conversation, and I had thought about what to reply. I had considered different approaches, from tactful to sensitive. But now I didn't want to be tactful or sensitive. On the contrary: I wanted to hurt Raoul. Who did this man think he was, talking about Erik like that? He was my husband, yes, but he didn't own me!
"Yes, I did," I cried. "More than once! And it was good!"
I watched the colour drain from his face with a strange sense of satisfaction. I had hurt him just where I had planned to: right in his male pride. For a moment he gaped at me. Then he swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure.
"I'm sure it was good," he said in a flat voice. "After all, you had plenty of time to practice. For how long has this been going on? Has it only started when he began to teach Philippe, or was it much longer? Have you been meeting in secret for all those years?"
I gave a short laugh.
"Don't be ridiculous, Raoul," I hissed. "I've told you that I hadn't seen him for ten years before that whole thing with Philippe happened." I didn't know what possessed me to go on the way I did, but I couldn't hold myself back. A man who spoke such accusations didn't deserve better. "But you wouldn't believe how much Erik learned in those few days," I said sweetly. "He can do things with his hands other men can only dream of. No one has ever made me feel this wonderful before…" I sighed dreamily, watching Raoul closely out of the corners of my eyes. He made a face as if someone had kicked him in the groin… which was exactly what I had done, albeit symbolically.
"Good for you," he brought out, sounding as if his own words were choking him. "And it's nice to know that I'm at least good enough to help you with the police and sit next to you till your beloved Phantom arrives."
Now I was the one who didn't know what to say. I merely turned away from him, pretending to look at the dark landscape outside. The rattling of the coach grew fainter as the streets became better. I was glad that our argument was over, for surely the children would have heard us talk. Well, there was no danger of that happening now. Raoul and I didn't exchange a word until we arrived at Meg's home.
Since no doors belonged to the bench we had been sitting on, we had to climb over the front bench in order to get out. As if we hadn't done enough climbing already today… Jean helped the children, then Raoul went to the front to help me. He grabbed my right hand rather harder than necessary… and froze, staring down at it.
"Christine" he muttered tersely. "These two rings… they're not from our wedding. But I've seen one of them before. They… they belong to him, don't they?"
I nodded.
"Oh," he made and strode away without another word.