CHAPTER 3
"Mother...we've just received our invitation to Christine's wedding!" Meg Giry cried excitedly, ripping open the envelope and handing it to her mother. Antoinette Giry scanned over the words before tossing it aside, agitated.
"Lovely dear...charming." She said distantly as Meg frowned.
"Maman...what is bothering you?" Little Giry asked her mother, worried. She sighed.
"Oh Meg...it's nothing. You wouldn't understand dear." Antoinette replied, rubbing her temple.
"You must think I am really stupid Mother." Meg said irritated. "You're always trying to protect me...I am sixteen years old...the same age Christine, yet you treat her as if she is years older than I..." Antoinette drew back in shock and denial.
"I do no such thing...I..."
"Yes you do, then again who doesn't? Christine has always been more special than I...Quiet Meg, Christine is tired. Christine needs her rest...I am always forgotten in the shuffle."
Meg sat away from her mother, touching the cream colored invitation. She looked up at her mother dead serious.
"Mother, I work harder than any ballerina in the ballet, including Christine. Christine had a teacher who taught her to sing...I taught myself by imitating you. Yet Christine is the one who accomplished great things...why Maman? I love Christine dearly and think of her as my sister, but why am I not special too, when I work twice as hard?" Her usually tiny voice, had become even more childlike as she stared at her tiny feet, which were in her practice ballet slippers.
"Meg I...never knew you felt that way." Antoinette said, looking intently at her daughter. "Why have you never said anything before?" She asked, reached out to touch Meg's hair. Meg sighed.
"You were so occupied with Christine and her problems that I didn't want to worry you with my stupid adolescent angst." She said, making her mother fall limply against the back of the sofa.
"Meg...How could you think that you couldn't come to me? You are my daughter!" She said, hurt and angry. Meg glared.
"Well so is Christine!" She cried as Antoinette stood up.
"Yes dearest. Christine is like a daughter to me, but you are my baby! My only baby...you're all I have left of your Papa. And you are right." She said, bowing her normally regal head.
"I am?" Meg asked surprised. Antoinette nodded.
"I have neglected you...and I am so sorry for that. From now on, I promise to be a better mother...but you must never doubt my love for you." Meg threw her arms around her mother.
"Oh Maman...you are a wonderful mother...and now I have something to show you." She said, getting up and bounding into her room.
"Meg what is the meaning of...oh dear." Antoinette said, when she saw her daughter come back into the room with the white leather mask. "Marguerite? You went down there when I specifically told you to stay above ground?" She asked, suddenly a bit angry. Meg nodded.
"I had to Maman...I didn't want them to kill him." She said, bowing her head.
"Who my darling?" Antoinette asked and Meg sighed, holding up the mask.
"Him. The Phantom...I found this and told the mob he was dead. They gave up just after and left. I don't know if he got away or lived...but somehow you knew him didn't you Maman? You knew the whole time..." Madame Giry held up her hands.
"Indeed child, I did. He was but a boy when I met him...eleven actually. I saw him in the traveling troupe of gypsies. They called him The Devil's Child." She said and Meg nodded.
"It was his face." She said and Antoinette gave her a slight nod.
"He killed the man who was beating him that night...Javert I think his name was...I couldn't let them execute a little boy, so I took him back to the opera house and he hid deep beneath...somehow, knowing the way to the cellars...this boy was a genius. He was musically gifted, intelligent and had a kind heart, but some people bear scars on far more than their faces. He was deeply disturbed and never outgrew it. He's forty now...and the scars have only deepened. He lost his heart, and his mind to Christine." Meg's hands were clapped over her mouth.
"The poor thing..." She said sadly and Antoinette shook her head.
"Erik let his self pity and loathing get in the way of what he could have been...he wasted his life." She said and Meg tilted her head.
"His name is Erik?" She asked, bemused. Antoinette nodded. Meg giggled.
"What could you possibly find funny about this child?" Antoinette asked, annoyed.
"Well, that the famous, or infamous opera ghost should have a normal name like anyone else does." She laughed as there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it Maman." She said running to open it and stopping dead when she was staring up into the ravaged face of the man her mother had just explained.
"Sir..." She said, unsure of what to say. He took off his fedora.
"May I come in a moment? I wish to see your mother girl." He said, not giving her a choice and stepping past the girl. "Annie." He said simply when he saw her. Hope had come into her eyes.
"Erik...so you did survive..." She said and he nodded.
"Are you disappointed?" He asked and she shook her head.
"Not in the least. I suppose you are looking for this." She said, producing his mask.
"Precisely..." He said reaching for it as her eyes fell to the ring finger of his left hand.
"Oh dear God Erik...you are not still deluding yourself? Christine is engaged." She said and he drew away from her, snatching the white leather and putting it into place.
"I know damn well Christine's marital status Annie." He shot at her, twirling the ring about his long slender finger.
"Well what then?" She asked, pointing to it. He shook his head.
"I am a married man now dear Annie." He said as Antoinette fell to sit on the sofa.
"Christ Almighty Erik...it's been one week and you're pulling these things...what is it really?" She asked and he became cold.
"Antoinette. I have a wife. Her name is Roxana...she is twenty-one ." He said turning to leave.
"Erik." She said firmly and he turned back toward her. Thinking twice about making another comment, she relented. "Take care." She said as he nodded and left swiftly.
She buried her face in her hands as soon as he disappeared.
"He is insane..." She said as Meg sat beside her, shaken.
"No Mother...I believe him..." She said and Antoinette looked up at her for the first time.
"Goodness Marguerite. When did you become a woman?" She asked and Meg sighed.
"See? I told you...I should be settled and married by now." She said and Antoinette snorted.
"Meg Giry...you had better not even think of marriage until you turn eighteen. I will allow suitors, but no engagements for at least six months to a year." She said and Meg shook her head.
"Oh Maman...you worry too much."
"I stopped into my old home to grab a few things..." Erik said, taking off his cloak and fedora as Roxana eyed him from the chair she was sitting in.
"I see. Dinner is on the table. I hope you don't mind that I ate without you." She said, feverishly going through some bills.
"Dear girl...what is the matter?" He asked, coming toward her. She sat up fully.
"It just seems that the more we pay the more we owe...Andrew isn't telling me everything." She said and Erik stood taller, stiffening at the mention of that man.
"Andrew no longer controls that aspect of your life. I do." He said and she bit her nail.
"Yes well...either way something is very wrong." She said and when she looked up at him he saw the dark circles underneath her eyes.
"Roxana. Go to bed. Worry tomorrow...you need to sleep. I will look over these things." He said, knowing full well she wasn't going to go to sleep tonight, for Andrew hadn't been by and found out she'd married him.
"He's going to kill me." She said darkly and Erik raised his eyebrow,
"Over my dead body." He muttered and when she looked up at him again, she noticed the mask.
"Oh my...you look so different!" She said and he chuckled.
"It's a bit easier on the eyes wouldn't you think?" He asked her and she shook her head.
"I didn't say that...it's just different. Looks awfully uncomfortable." She said and he shrugged.
"You get used to it my dear." He pointed to the stairs. "Go to bed. Now." She nodded slightly and left the room.
"What a waste of a pretty girl." He said remorsefully, thinking that no young person should ever have to lose their love. Especially at the ripe age of eighteen. She was so solemn all the time. She hardly ever smiled and when she did, it was forced. The black mourning clothes made her seem old before her time and she seemed tired. He sighed heavily and went up to his own room, deciding to check on her before bed. He went into the kitchen and put the food away, not really feeling hungry before heading up the stairs. He was surprised to see light pouring into the hallway from Roxana's bedroom. He looked in and nearly died to see her fast asleep draped across the bed in all of her undergarments. He shook his head and sighed, walking into the room and putting her fully on the bed. Carefully, he pulled her stockings and shoes off, and unhooked the corset, throwing everything to the side on the floor, leaving her to sleep in her chemise. He pulled the covers over her and turned out the lamp beside her bed before leaving the room and shutting the door. At least she was sleeping.
Back in his own room, he carefully got ready for bed, draping his cloak over the armchair in the corner of his room and putting his fedora on the night table. While at the opera today, he'd picked up a few suits, his original score of Don Juan Triumphant. He caught a glimpse himself in the mirror, scowling when he did. He threw the mask on the table as well and rubbed at his eyes. Slipping into the bed, he fell straight to sleep, burying his head in the pillows. He awoke to the sound of yelling downstairs. Damn. How long had he slept? He quickly got out of the bed and dressed putting the mask on and leaving the bedroom in utter chaos.
"You deliberately did this to spite me Roxana!" Andrew's voice came from the salon. Erik heard her snort.
"As if you had ever had a chance to marry me!" She said fiery. "I told you I could be married in two months time!" She said and the sound of shattering glass filled the room.
"You were promised to me Roxana! Me! You will go straight to the courts and annul this charade!" He ordered as Erik entered the room.
"That is impossible Lord Westcliff." He said, making his voice dark. "The marriage cannot be annulled since it was already consummated." He said and Roxana whirled about looking at him. Erik pulled her away from Andrew and pushed her behind him.
"There is no way you could prove that!" Lord Westcliff said, looking straight into Erik's eyes, his blue eyes flashing. He was a remarkable height, Andrew was, much to Erik's surprise they were almost the same exact height.
Erik smiled confidently.
"Unless she is already pregnant." He said, folding his arms casually and sitting in an armchair, crossing his legs. Andrew's mouth dropped, but he stood his ground.
"That can be easily remedied." He said and Roxana let out a growl.
"You are sick Andrew...I don't even know how you and Justin came from the same parents! He was so good and you...you're the devil!" She cried and Andrew glared at her.
"He was a fool and so were you for choosing him when I could have made you so much happier. Roxy, his foolishness got him killed." He said and her dark eyes shot hate at him.
"My name is Roxana, Lord Westcliff." She said and for a moment it looked like Andrew was going to lunge at her but Erik stood up and held her by the shoulders, threatening the man with his eyes.
"Touch her and die, Westcliff." He warned. Andrew looked at Roxana with sick desire.
"This isn't over Roxy...it's only begun and mark my words. I will have you for my wife." He said, putting on his hat.
"Her name is Roxana." Erik said, "And as for her ever being your wife, we shall see shan't we?" He said, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand. Lord Westcliff, looked once more at Roxana before storming out of the room and leaving the house. Roxana slumped against his side.
"What have we done Erik? I should have just married him." She said and Erik held her by the shoulders.
"You did this so your son will have a chance to grow up safe. I am a friend Roxana...I will never treat you as he treats you. The servants are not to let anyone in this house without yours or my own consent. Is that clear Roxana?" She nodded.
"Yes Erik. It's clear."
"Good girl."