Chapter Six: New life, new freedom I

Paris, 1870

"You wish me to buy that opera house?" Nadir glared at the stubborn eyes of his masked friend. He had expected Erik would be either frightfully angry or drowning in despair. He looked neither. That look of familiar determination and air of unquestioning certainty, however, was unmistakably clear.

"I do not wish to deal with those two insufferable fools," came the short reply.

"You will be the new owner on paper. I, who will be hereafter known as Edward Russell, will however pay for the full cost and manage all the affairs," he continued, "Profits will be shared equally. You would not object to such a generous proposition?"

"But why must it be the Opera Populaire?" Nadir pressed, fully suspecting that he would not have a satisfactory answer.

"Why not?" Erik shrugged. "The fools will be desperate to sell it and I have a fondness towards that place. If you wonder what devious a scheme I plot under a seemingly innocent desire, all I can say is I no longer wish to cause any destruction or bent my anger at the world for its treatment of me. The world and I are no longer at war."

Erik slowly removed his mask, watching Nadir gasp in shock. So it was true. His face truly has changed. "You look rather frightened. How unlikely of you to be so easily scared by a mere face," Erik said in a mocking tone.

"Erik, you didn't. Did you?" Nadir's uncharacteristic response both amused and irritated Erik.

"Did I make a deal with the Devil? No the Devil has never shown any kindness towards me and I doubt that will change anytime soon if that's what you are wondering. I must confess however you do astonish me, Nadir. I never thought you were capable of such a vivid imagination."

"Then it must be God's will and his mysterious ways," Nadir concluded with a sigh of relief.

Erik made no reply. His friend was beginning to fatigue him.

"Where will you be staying?"

"Here," Erik replied, "I am to be your guest till I find myself a comfortable accommodation. Do not disturb my sleep and I shall be a pleasant company."

"I do not think I had that pleasure before," Nadir grinned, "Are you sleeping well now, my friend?"

"The nightmares seem to have forgotten me," Erik grinned back.

The next few days, Erik indulged himself in exploring the streets of Paris during the day. He would wander around the streets which he had only dared to visit with the protection of darkness, stop at shops for his necessities and a new wardrobe, or simply sit idly in a café, pretending to read a newspaper while listening to the conversations among strangers. No one paid much attention to him, occupied by their own daily businesses. If they did, it was with a look of admiration. The harsh day light could no longer punish him, forcing him to seek solace in darkness and masks. Only now he could be truly left alone if he wished so. And this realisation made him feel deliriously happy. He was finally free from his constant fear of persecution and self-pity.

In the evenings, Erik kept his promise to be a pleasant company to Nadir who was making a rapid progress with the purchase of Erik's opera house. André and Firmin were eager to sell the damned place although the fire damage was mostly limited to the interiors of the building rather than the structure. All that was left now was the tiresome paper work, which Nadir didn't find it too trying. During their evening meals, Erik would praise Nadir's exotic Persian dishes and discuss with him the redecoration and refurbishment of the opera house. Nadir would inform Erik of the political movements that were distracting the police from the search of the Opera Ghost and the rumours of the impending war. It was agreed that Erik's lair should be restored and all the known entries to be blocked. The political volatility and uncertain future meant that the investment to an underground sanctuary could prove to be useful once again.

After dinner, Erik would leave his host to retire to his bed chamber, where he composed music silently in his head for a few hours before sleep. Ever since the fateful day, he found himself eagerly waiting for his sleep to come. Each morning, he would awake with happiness in his heart and warmth vibrating through his content body, followed by feverish longing for someone in his dreams he could not recollect with clarity. Fleeting bits of memory were all he could muster. The feel of her body, the calmness she effortlessly instils in his soul, the passion she evoked in his much neglected and almost forgotten body, the happiness that he thought would never be possible. She had eyes that penetrated and embraced his heart. She had lips that would make his body ache with desire. Yet he could not remember the colour of her eyes. The shape of her face and body still escaped him. He felt rather frustrated at his inability to visualise his lover in his conscious mind, which lacked the conviction of his unconscious counter part that she would always be his and his alone. Each night, he hoped to relive the blissful dreams that brought her back to him. And this wish enabled him to losing himself completely to the power of the night, the secrets of the unconscious mind.