Behind Closed Doors
Every feeling drained from Christine as her senses failed to register the impossible fact that Raoul had just told her. She clutched at his arms, nails digging in but he didn't flinch.
"No… no, that's not… it's impossible!"
"Christine-"
"A night! It was…was only…" Her legs gave way and Raoul helped her into a chair, not very efficiently as he was shaking almost as much as she was and both were still shaking from the intense crying. He knelt in front of her as she breathed heavily, his hands wrapped tightly around hers as though he couldn't bear to let go even for a moment. But reason finally seemed to be taking over and he asked, "Christine, are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine, I just… I didn't know. Raoul, I didn't know!" Her voice broke and she fell forward to the floor beside him, clinging to him as she began to sob. "I didn't know it had been so long! I didn't mean to… I wanted to come home but I couldn't…"
"Christine, listen to me." He looked her in the face, still holding her hands. "I'm going to call one of the servants and tell them to wake Phil."
"Phil is here?" He didn't reply, finally letting go of her hands to ring the servant bell. There was usually one awake at this time anyway.
Christine closed her eyes, the blood pounding in her brain as she finally understood what Raoul had told her. Two weeks… she had been gone for two weeks. People wouldn't have known where she was for that whole time, people would gave been looking for her.
Erik had lied to her.
She started as the door opened and there came a loud gasp as one of the servants, Tara, saw her. Christine lowered her face into her hands, not wanting to look at her, not wanting to see anyone. Everything seemed out of shape and she couldn't hear, as though she were submerged in water. Someone was speaking to her and it took all her effort to lift her head.
Time had passed and she found herself staring in Raoul's frantic face. He put his hand to her cheek.
"Christine?" She blinked slowly and swallowed, painfully because of the lump in her throat. It was only then that she noticed Philippe standing nearby, clad in a dressing gown and worryingly pale.
"Raoul, we need to call the police." He said quietly. Christine shook her head slowly.
"No…"
"We have to let them know you're safe." Phil said, moving to put a hand on her shoulder. Christine didn't move. She felt slow and clumsy and far too tired to resist. The temporary adrenaline rush that had sent her running along the road had drained and she wanted nothing more than to curl up on this floor and sleep deeply for days, weeks. But the police were summoned and soon more servants were awakened to provide refreshments and all the while Christine sat silently on her chair as the police asked Raoul when she had arrived, what state she had been in. A blanket was draped around her shoulders and a cup of tea placed in her hands that she did not drink. Eventually a chair was drawn up next to hers and a female officer with an earnest and friendly face sat down.
"Mrs de Chagny? Can you hear me?"
"Yes, I can hear you." Christine said quietly.
"Would you like to tell us where you've been?"
Christine looked up. They were all watching her, curious but anxious. Raoul took her hand in his, as though offering himself as support. She took a deep breath.
"I…" What could she possibly say? That the Phantom of the Opera had taken her prisoner, drugged her and all because of music? They'd think she was insane. After a moment she shook her head.
"Please… I just want to sleep."
"Mrs de Chagny, do you realise that you've been missing for two weeks?" The female officer said calmly and slowly, as though speaking to someone who wasn't quite all there.
Christine rubbed her eyes and looked desperately at Raoul. But he was staring at her in realisation, looking almost panicked.
"No… she didn't."
"What?" Phil said, looking at him. Raoul squeezed Christine's hand nervously.
"When you came in you asked how long you'd been gone. And when I told you, you were horrified. Christine, you didn't know you'd been gone for that long, did you?" They all looked at her again and she licked her dry lips, feeling herself tremble.
"I don't know… God, can't they just go? Raoul, make them go." She bowed her head, letting her hair cover her face as tears threatened her already sore eyes. Raoul spoke quickly to Phil.
"She's exhausted, she needs to rest. Could you possibly come back in the morning? We'll need to call the doctor anyway…"
"What? Why?" Christine's head jerked up again at this. "Why is the doctor…?"
"I just want to make sure that you're alright." He said soothingly, but she would not allow herself to be soothed.
"Raoul, please. I'm… I just need to sleep. I just need to be at home and have everything the way it should be."
They were all silent for a moment and then the female officer put on her hat, looking rather dissatisfied.
"We'll come back tomorrow."
"Thank you." Phil started to usher them all out, including the crowd of curious servants that had gathered. Christine put the tea on a nearby table and stood, the blanket falling onto the chair and she pushed her hair back. It felt greasy and her clothes were horribly uncomfortable, a fact that she had failed to notice. Raoul and Phil watched her anxiously as she turned to look at them. She tried to smile but it felt strange and foreign, as though her muscles weren't used to such an action. Phil cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Well… I think we should go and get some sleep. It's going to be a tough day tomorrow." Raoul nodded and held out a hand to Christine. She took it and they all ascended the stairs.
Their room looked as it always had, as though she had only been gone for a few hours. She washed her face and changed into a soft nightdress. Raoul had already changed and was putting on the small lamp by the table when she came out of the bathroom. They looked at each other for a moment and Christine felt tears prick her eyes yet again as a sudden rush of love flooded through her. Raoul climbed into bed and she went to get in as well, but paused at the sight of the open window, the fluttering curtains that had brought about her absence all that time ago. Without a moment of hesitation, she pulled the window shut.
The police interrogation did not go well. Christine knew that it would be simplest to just tell them about Erik and be done. But for some reason she couldn't say anything about him. She didn't want to tell anyone what he had done, about his face, about his music…
Raoul sat with her in the study as the police waited for her to reply, prompting with questions. The doctor stood nearby, watching her with a vague frown etched onto his brow. Eventually the questioning officer sat back in his chair, clearly exasperated.
"Mrs de Chagny, you have to understand that we're only trying to help you."
"Christine, please… why can't you tell me?" Raoul asked, trying to keep the hurt tone from his voice. "If someone's hurt you, then we have to find them."
"No one hurt me."
"Mrs de Chagny, did someone attack you? Force you to go away with them?"
"No…"
She straightened and finally gave the poor excuse that she had managed to think up.
"I… I went to the sea."
"The sea?"
"To your father's house?" Raoul said, understanding immediately. Christine nodded slowly and put a hand to her forehead.
"I think I was ill. I just… I can't remember any of it. I remember going to the coast and going to the house. But I can't remember being there or anything that happened there. I just remember going to sleep and waking up the next day. Or at least I thought it was the next day. But…"
"You can't have just slept for two solid weeks." The officer said incredulously. The doctor, a grey-haired man by the name of Gregson, cleared his throat.
"Mrs de Chagny, I understand that you were under a great deal of stress prior to your disappearance."
"Yes."
"It's the anniversary of her father's death in a couple of weeks. And you were so troubled by work, with that ridiculous opera ghost nonsense." Raoul agreed. Christine stiffened at the mention of the ghost, but no one noticed. They were all listening to Doctor Gregson.
"It seems feasible that what Mrs de Chagny actually suffered was similar to a minor breakdown. All the stress that she was suffering from, most likely based upon the anniversary, it could be that it just got too much. As a result she takes herself off to a familiar place and her body shuts down to recover. It's rare, but not unheard of. It usually would only last for a day or two." He said, fingers unconsciously pulling on his short beard. Christine watched him, listening to this explanation.
"In fact." He continued, "I haven't seen a subject that carried on for two weeks in any medical journals. Perhaps, with your permission, I may-"
"My wife is not some guinea pig that you can make a name for yourself with!" Raoul snapped. Dr Gregson flushed and murmured an apology.
She despised the way they were discussing her as though she weren't there. She moved her eyes to the window. It was sunny outside, a beautiful Saturday morning. But at least it was over now. The police seemed perfectly happy with this explanation, but the doctor was speaking to her.
"I would like to recommend some counselling. Just to prevent this happening again. Maybe some medical attention would-"
"No." Christine said flatly. Raoul sighed.
"Maybe it would be best…"
"Raoul, no. Please, I just want everything to go back to normal." She said pleadingly. Raoul examined her face for a moment and then nodded. Doctor Gregson held his hands as though to suggest that this went against his better judgement. They all began to depart, Raoul acting as the usual gracious host until they had left, and then turned to her.
For a moment they stood in awkward silence, something that hadn't happened to them since… well, it had never happened. Then Raoul crossed to her and pulled her into his arms. Christine closed her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the scent of his light cologne and the faintest hint of soap. It was familiar and comforting.
"You weren't at the sea, were you?" He said quietly. Christine looked up quickly but he kissed her forehead.
"You're home now. It doesn't matter where you were. You're with me now."
They spent the rest of the day at home. Phil had gone to the opera house to let everyone know that she had returned safely, leaving Christine and Raoul to talk about what had happened in her absence, although not much talking actually took place. Instead they walked the sunlit grounds in silence, sat in the living room watching films and retired to bed early. It was as if they both knew that this sweet calm could not last and they had to make the most of it. They made love that night and Christine had never felt more at peace with the world as she and Raoul clung to each other, kissing, stroking and whispering words of love.
And as she lay with him, head on his chest as he slept, she felt a strange longing within her soul to hear music.
At breakfast on Sunday morning, Phil joined Christine and Raoul at the table bearing a newspaper.
"Well, there you go. Give it a week and everyone will have forgotten all about it." He said, putting the paper down. Christine saw her own face looking back, a picture of her that Raoul had taken at the villa in Greece two years previously. The headline announced that she had been found safe and sound. Raoul glanced over the article.
"Disappeared two weeks ago… returned home on Friday night, thank the public for their concern… well handled, Phil."
"I do my best." His brother said dryly, reaching for a piece of toast. Christine smiled and sipped her tea. Phil looked across at her.
"So… what are you going to do now?"
"I was thinking of having some eggs." She said lightly and then sighed at their expressions. "I know what you mean. As I said, I just want things to get back to normal. I'll go back to work on Monday."
"Are you sure that's what you want to do? Because Raoul and I were discussing the possibility of you both coming to America for a while."
Christine shook her head, putting her teacup back into its saucer. A little of the liquid spilled over and she mopped it with a serviette.
"If we go I'll just end up restless and nervous about going back. The sooner I get busy, the better. Are you going back to America soon?"
"On Tuesday. I was supposed to be back a while ago, but what with…" Phil cleared his throat nervously, "With things being as they were, I stayed."
"Well, there you go. Everyone can just get on with what they should be doing." Christine said firmly. Raoul and Phil exchanged worried glances and she sighed heavily.
"What?"
"Christine, you just had a nervous breakdown. You should… rest. You need to recover." Raoul said seriously. She looked at him and shook her head slightly.
"If I rest… I'll start thinking about everything. About my father. Romeo and Juliet only has two weeks left on its run; we're going to be starting a new opera soon. We're going to be so busy."
Raoul gave a small smile and shook his head in despair.
"We may as well give up now, Phil. I've seen what she's like when she gets like this."
"Maybe it's best. But if you feel like things are getting too much for you…"
"I'll take it easy." Christine said firmly.
Monday morning arrived and brought heavy rain with it. Raoul insisted on driving Christine to the opera house, checking and double-checking that she had everything she needed.
"I'll have my phone with me all day and I'll pick you up at five thirty." He said as he pulled up to the main doors. Christine smiled and leaned over to kiss him.
"Raoul, I'll be fine."
"I love you." He said pulling her into an hug, reluctant to let her go. She kissed him again and picked up her bag.
"I love you too."
She ran lightly up the front steps to the doors and waved as the car drove off before pushing open the heavy glass door. There were sounds of a rehearsal coming from the main hall but Christine went straight to her office to take off her wet coat. Her office was as she had left it, apparently only opened for cleaning. She put her bag on the desk and hung her coat, droplets of water falling from it as she went to the rehearsal.
From the air vent, Erik smiled.
Moncharmin and Richard were nothing short of ecstatic to see. Christine was vaguely amused as she imagined the pair coping with the opera for two whole weeks. After assuring them that she was fine, she sat in the back row to watch the rehearsal. It seemed to be going well, although Christine began to notice slight errors, a missed step, a flawed note – things that she would never have noticed before. Again, she felt a tug at her heart as she remembered the hauntingly beautiful music that had possessed her soul for the past two weeks.
As the performers dispersed, Christine stood and went into the lobby, feeling uneasy. She wanted to hear the music again. He would contact her soon, there was no doubt about that. But could she live these two lives? Could she behave as she always had done with Raoul and still be able to hear the music?
She jumped what felt like six feet into the air as someone screamed behind her. Christine whipped around to see Meg Giry rushing towards her. The ballerina threw her arms around Christine in a hug, realised what she was doing and jumped back, only to grasp Christine's hands.
"Mrs de Chagny, you're back! Oh my god, I was so scared! Are you OK? Shouldn't you be resting?" Cecile joined them and grinned brightly. Christine smiled weakly at them both.
"I'm fine, Meg. Well, apart from the heart attack you gave me just now…"
"We were so worried when we heard that you'd gone missing. What happened?" Meg said, concern etched in her face. Christine was surprised, she hadn't thought that they were that close. But Meg had clearly been frantic about her disappearance.
"I… well, the doctor thinks I had something like a nervous breakdown. I honestly don't remember what happened."
"I'm just so glad that you're back!" Meg grinned and then hugged her again. Christine hesitantly returned the gesture, touched by her concern.
It quickly spread that their manageress was back and Christine got very little work done as people came to her office to say how glad they were to see her or ask why she had vanished or simply through sheer curiosity. As a result there was constantly someone in the room and it wasn't until around four that afternoon that Christine tried to get some proper work done. Richard had left a file with information for her to catch up on but Christine found several references that she didn't understand. She stood and went to the filing cabinet, trying to find out what it was exactly that Yvonne Dutchman had mentioned at the meeting of the previous Friday. As Christine flicked through the files in the top drawer, she felt a sudden chill in the room, as though she had left the window open. But she hadn't, and she knew that she hadn't.
She raised her eyes to the wall in front of her and saw the shadow of the man stood directly behind her. Without meaning to she squeezed her eyes shut and heard a soft chuckle, his mouth close to her ear as he spoke.
"Why so frightened, Christine?" She turned around and met his eyes, determined not to be afraid, determined not to think of what lay under that mask. He smirked as she stood tall and said,
"I'm pleased to see that you can follow directions so well."
"Why are you here?" Christine asked coldly, pleased that her voice wasn't shaking. Erik stepped away, walking the length of the office.
"To make arrangements regarding the new opera. I understand that you were planning on suggesting Rameau's Platée, but I believe The Magic Flute would be better suited. I did consider Otello, but two Shakespearian tragedies in a row might suggest staleness…" He stopped by her desk as Christine slid the drawer of the filing cabinet shut.
They stood watching each other for a moment, as though sizing the other up as a threat and daring the other to speak first. It was Christine who eventually broke the silence.
"You lied to me."
"Yes." He said simply, clearly not perturbed by the fact. Christine swallowed hard and licked her dry lips before speaking again.
"What do you want? We haven't decided on an opera yet and…" He was chuckling again, clearly entertained by her attempt at casualness, "Stop laughing at me, Erik! You lied to me!"
"Of course I did. How could you have been properly trained if you were too busy pining for that boy?"
"Leave Raoul out of this. I want you to get out. I don't want to sing anymore and I… I just want my life back."
"Why?"
The question was a surprise and Christine had to think about it for a moment.
"Because it's safe. My life was safe and warm and I knew it well. And then you arrived and you brought death and danger with you. I don't want any part of it, I just want you to leave."
"So you don't want the music?" Erik said, drawing a large envelope from his jacket. Christine felt her heart leap and for a moment she could have sworn that Erik had heard the skip as the smirk had returned. He laid the envelope onto her desk, not taking his eyes from hers. Christine chewed her lip and then picked up a piece of paper from the desk and turned back to the filing cabinet, trying to ignore him. But with inhuman speed he had crossed and slammed his hands on the wall on either side of her so that she was trapped with her back to him. A shiver ran down her spine as she stared at the blank wall, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up as he spoke softly with that beautiful voice.
"The music is on your desk. If you look at it, if you open that envelope… you belong to me."
"Erik, no…"
"You told me that you wanted the music. That is why I let you go." He hissed. "If you deny this now, then accidents will happen. You will sing for me, Christine. You will sing."
There was a knock at the door and Christine spun around in time to see a flicker of black leather disappearing into the air vent. She took a moment to compose herself before calling for them to come in. It was Mrs Giry. The older woman smiled but then paused.
"Is everything alright, Mrs de Chagny? You look very pale."
"Oh… yes. I'm fine. I could do with a cup of tea." Christine said light-heartedly. Mrs Giry smiled and moved into the room, closing the door behind her.
"I just wanted to ask about the next opera. I know you haven't yet chosen, but I'd like to organise extra rehearsals for the girls and…" Her voice died away as she saw the envelope on the desk. Christine watched, puzzled as she read the handwriting and looked sharply at her. The two women stared at each other for a minute and then Giry cleared her throat. Christine glanced briefly at the air vent, praying that Erik wasn't watching this. Giry noticed her action and followed her gaze before looking back to Christine and frowning, eyes flicking uncertainly towards the envelope. Eventually Christine spoke.
"I haven't yet decided on a new opera. I'll let you know, but it might be… The Magic Flute."
"I see. Well, I won't keep you any longer." Mrs Giry said and went to the door, pausing to look back as though wanting to say something but not daring to.
Christine went to sit at her desk and picked up the envelope, remembering how she had once suspected Giry of being the ghost. Obviously she knew that she wasn't now; but Giry knew something. She had delivered that letter from Erik and had been notably unsettled at the sight of this envelope. What was going on in this opera house?
She ran her fingers over the seal of the envelope, fighting with her self to open it. God, she wanted to hear that music! She wanted to sing those notes that had been written just for her, just to bring her to the point of ecstasy and still offer incredible temptation. She could already hear it, flooding her mind and drowning her senses until she was hardly in the office at all.
A hand was shaking her arm and Raoul's voice was speaking her ear, saying her name softly. Christine opened her eyes and looked up at him sleepily, still lost in her warm, comfortable dream-state. He smiled gently.
"Hey Sleeping Beauty."
"What time is it?"
"Only just five thirty. I got away a little early. If you were this tired you should have just gone home to sleep."
"I wasn't tired." Christine said, pushing herself up from the desk and leaning back in her chair. "I don't even remember going to sleep." Raoul smiled and took her coat.
"Come on. Let's get you home. We're having beef tonight, Phil's favourite since he's leaving tomorrow."
"It sounds delicious." Christine said, her stomach aching at the thought of the no-doubt delicious meal. She picked up her bag and then stopped short as she caught sight of the open envelope on her desk. She hadn't opened it, had she? No! She had been holding it and thinking about the music and she had heard the music…
Because Erik had been playing it to her.
Her chest tightened as she realised what had happened. He had fooled her again. She had read the music and had been drawn in by it. Unless…
"Did you open this?" She asked, in what she hoped was a casual voice. Raoul who was by the door, looked over.
"No. Don't worry, I know better than to touch things on your desk!" She didn't reply and he frowned. "Is everything alright?"
"Fine." She said shortly. She picked up the envelope and turned on the electric shedder on the floor. The envelope ground noisily as she slipped it into the machine, tearing the music into tiny squares. Raoul watched silently but she smiled comfortingly at him.
"Let's go. I'm starving."
A/N: Man, I am so in love with Raoul. I think I'm an R/C shipper now... when did THAT happen?!
Well, hello there. No, I'm not dead! I realise it's been over a year since my last update, but there is very good reasons for this. Long story short – I dropped out of uni, spent 15 months working at a DIY store, reapplied for a different university and am starting a primary education course in a month's time. So it's been fairly hectic and has left me with a deep hatred for all things DIY. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter. My darling beta and I have unfortunately parted ways due to various commitments, so I'll be hunting for a beta soon. In the mean time, please forgive in glaring errors. I hope the updates will be more regular from now on, but obviously with my courses starting I can't guarantee it.
Love
Katie