Chapter 8 Ponderings and laces
Madame Giry quickly slipped back into the inferno that was consuming her opera house. Black smoke was belching from the prop room. She ran to where she had last seen Meg. Much to her relief the child was gone. The heat was sweltering. Sweat was beading and running down her back as she climbed the stairs to the dormitories where her charges slept. Reaching the top, she began running from room to room looking in closets and under beds to make sure none in their foolishness had remained. Satisfied that everyone was gone, she looked over the balcony and saw the eerie smoke rising, covering the floor she had just left with a thick black-grey haze. She knew that behind those billows, fire followed with certainty. She needed air, and relief from the heat.
Climbing the last flight of stairs, she opened the doors to the top floor veranda. Going out, she swiftly closed the doors behind her wishing not to provide that raging monster with any more fuel, or want to climb to the next floor. Outside, the night was starry, and apart from the faint sounds of rushing carriages and a distant ring of a fire wagon's bells, the night seemed for all intent and purposes a perfect one. It was calm there on the roof. A strange calm.
She took in the cool night air with luxury, coughing, having inhaled more of the smoke than she had first thought. She had to go back in, but would she be able to find safe passage out of this place. She shook, but not from the chill in the air, but from the realization at what had happened.
It was too much to take in all at once. In one night, the history of Paris was changed, her home was taken from her, and as far as she could imagine, the night had claimed her beautiful "adopted" daughter, Christine, and her dear, dear, Erick. The losses were more than her heart could bear. She looked up into the dark night sky and prayed a silent prayer that fate would take it's course, but try not to be too cruel in its hunger. She took in one last deep breath of the fresh air, pulled a layer of her dress over her face, and headed back into the Opera House.
Erick looked back towards where he had heard the sound. Hearing nothing further, he relaxed the clench in his jaw. "We must go from this place, and perhaps never return." He looked around at the expanse of the cavern that had his been his home for decades. A sadness that he hadn't expected settled in his chest. He had dreamed of living here with her: loving her and nurturing her there. Enjoying their music, paying homage to music. He glanced back at Christine who had disappeared from view.
"Christine, it is alright, we are safe for the time being, you may come out from there if you wish." He waited for moments, seemingly an eternity. He feared she had fainted from the fright of impending danger. He leapt up the stairs and across the floor until he came to the veil covering the entrance to her room.
"Christine, it is alright my dear, are you feeling well? You have nothing further to fear at this moment. Do you need some assistance?" He peered behind the veil, glancing first toward the floor, expecting to find her there in a frail heap. She was not there. In the back of the room he heard a scratch, and the sudden smell of sulfur as Christine struck a match, igniting the head and moving it toward the candle on the dresser. In the soft glow of the flickering light he could see her outline, a slender beautiful silhouette. Her back faced him, and he could see her gossamer curls trailing down the length of her back. She turned glancing over her shoulder, and smiled politely, glancing down from his gaze, as if embarrassed to be discovered. "Christine, are you alright?" Erick asked again, in a more hushed tone. "Yes, quite alright." She replied.
Turning to face him, her eyes were gleaming. She smiled and said almost childishly, "I hope that this is alright with you." Erick's eyes widened as Christine moved fully into the light of the candle. "Christine!" Her face went pale, and she moved back slowly and apologetically. "I'll take it off if you'd like, it was rather bold of me to assume…" "NO, no..it suits you… even more than I had imagined." Erick couldn't remember when he had felt a smile voluntarily, and unexpectedly cross his face.
Christine moved slowly toward him now, the swish of the layers of the gown brushing against each other. "Oh Erick, it is most exquisite. However…I must confess…. I am unable to lace the entire back, so it is a bit loose about the middle." Erick's eyes blinked rapidly as he allowed his eyes to wander her from head to toe, basking in the thought that she had actually put on his dress. The dress he had saved for, so carefully selected, and kept those long months, waiting for her.
Christine blushed a little, but knowing no other option she blurted out "I know this might be most improper, but as there is no other to ask, may I ask for your assistance in fastening the laces?" Erick moved toward her nodding, motioning with his hands to turn around. His hands fumbled with the delicate ribbon. He needed to lean away several times to allow light so he could see what he was to do. Thankfully Christine had started it for him, so that he wouldn't look like a bumbling fool.
"No, much tighter please, it needs to fit securely round my She blushed at the simple mention of her undergarments. She had been raised to be proper, and knew men scarcely discussed such things, at least not in the company of ladies.
Erick, not wanting to hurt her, gently tugged on the ribbon until it felt as tightly drawn as he thought it should be. Tying a bow at the top as he fastened the last of it. He stood behind Christine, both motionless. Erick could smell the fragrant lavender and rose coming from the dressing that had been glossed into Christine's hair for her performance. Christine took in a long breath and said "Thank you. I apologize for my boldness in having asked you to do such a thing."
Erick placed his hands on Christine's shoulders, turning her gently around to face him. "You may ask anything of me anything, ask for anything, to do anything for you, anything your heart or soul desires." He bent down and placed an affectionate kiss upon the delicate tip of her nose. Looking up at Erick she smiled sweetly. Christine backed away several feet, spinning slowly around so that Erick may view all sides of the garment. "It is so very lovely isn't it?" Christine said with glee in her voice.
"Yes, the garment is fine, and it suits you, but it is you that makes it lovely." Christine stopped turning and faced Erick blushing and tilting her head toward the ground. She curtsied gracefully, and bowed as a performer would, saying "thank you."
"Christine, I should have told you. There are many other garments I had for you in this closet. With that he pulled open the door on the floor-length chest that stood on the outer wall of the room. Inside there were nearly a dozen dresses, and cloaks, as well as all the other garments necessary to wear such fine things. "You no doubt were cold and sodden from the water, and in the chill of the night thought you had no alternative. I'm sorry, I should have told you."
"What? Does it displease you that I chose to wear this one?" Christine stammered, smoothing her hands over the bodice. "No, no, if that is your wish, you may wear what you like. It's just that this is….. a wedding dress." Erick looked away from Christine for a moment, feeling the heat of blush on his own cheeks.
Christine moved closer to him reaching out and taking first his left hand and then his right into her own. Erick dared to look up at her at the sudden sensation of being touched in compassion. Most touch he had known in his life came in the form of beatings. But that was long ago, and he was with the most gentle creature he had ever known now. Christine looked pleadingly into Erick's eyes. "Why must you still doubt my intentions?"
Erick looked deep into her eyes, and felt as though he was drowning. "If I had known there were other garments, I would still have chosen this one. I've dreamed of it nearly every night since you first showed it to me. I've imagined wearing it. Of feeling the weight of the beautiful fabric on my shoulders." Erick interrupted, "No doubt you imagined your precious Vicomte at your left side in your dreams."
Christine was suddenly angered. How could he still harbor these feelings, after all she had risked to be with him. "I don't know why you say such hurtful things, when deep inside you must know they aren't true." Erick shook his head, and softly said "I'm so sorry….It's just that you wore his ring, accepted his proposal….on the roof that night."
"What?" Christine dropped his hands backing away from Erick. "What are you saying to me?" A chill ran up her spine, a look of horror filling her eyes. He had been there. She had thought she had heard him calling softly to her in the distance that night. Erick turned around, sitting on the edge of her bed, back towards her "that night, when you told Raoul that you had seen my face, and been in the blackness of my night….I was there behind the gargoyle on the edge of the rooftop. I heard everything that was exchanged between you…everything." Erick drew in a heavy breath.
Fighting to speak he continued, "I thought in that moment that I had lost you forever. That is why I disappeared for three months time, trying to put you from my mind, but alas, I could not. It only seemed logical to me that a young woman who had invited and accepted such a proposal would imagine herself on her wedding day, in her dress, her fiancé at her side"
Christine gasped. She could hardly find the words to say to him. He had heard everything? Her saying that his face was barely a face, that he carried all the sadness of the world in his eyes…how could he ever forget those horrible words.
She walked over and sat next to him on the edge of the bed seat. Her lips trembling she began, "Erick…I was scared…confused…my world had been turned upside down. I had been nothing much to anyone, and suddenly I was the center of attention. A socialite whom I'd known since I was a child was courting me. Any young woman would have been delighted to make such a fine match. I was thinking with my practical mind, listening to all the voices in my head that were telling me that he would be a fine match. I was trying desperately to silence the voice in my heart. I'd not meant to hurt you Erick…had I known….." Christine's voice cracked and tears were now flowing down the soft part of her cheek. She looked over at Erick. "Why didn't you show yourself that night?"
Erick turned away from her, "I did not want to interfere with your happiness. Had I shown myself it would have ended very bitterly…only two would have left the rooftop that night."
There was a moment of silence before he began again. "All I've ever wanted, since the very first day that I heard you crying softly in the cellar praying for your father, was for you to be happy; to know the happiness that I had never known. At first, I wanted to guide and protect you, to make you smile. As you grew, I came to love you, dared to love you from a distance that was safe for you." Erick stood walking a few steps and stopping to turn and face her again.
"Christine in those three months since that night on the roof, I went through so many emotions." He began flinging his arms about, cape fluttering in the wind. "I was angry, felt betrayed, denied, and yet I loathed myself for wanting to deprive you of such happiness. As time passed and I could not purge you from my mind, my emotions poured onto paper and into music. Before long, I'd fashioned Don Juan." He walked a few steps away looking up as if into a distant night sky. "It took weeks for me to decide whether I dare bring it to my managers, wondering how on earth I'd get them to agree to my deceitful plan. I'd lost all sense of reason, thinking only of having one last chance to see you, for you to deny me forever so that I might be certain that you were happy, and ready to leave your angel."
Christine could feel the tears welling in her eyes again. A shuddered breath escaped from her. Erick didn't seem to notice. "I'd come to the masquerade intending to slip the finished score into their offices unnoticed. When I came to the hall I'd have to cross to reach them, I saw you dancing with Raoul….I was overcome with rage. I forgot myself and descended the stairs wanting to rush down and slice him limb from limb." He paused, shutting his eyes tightly, reliving that moment in his mind. "But the coward moved first behind you and then escaped entirely from the room." Feeling emboldened by his departure, I came to tell them directly of my wishes, to provide instructions to the performers." He swirled around, a cross between fury and desperation in his eyes. "I tried to treat you as a pupil and nothing more, but gazing once more on your beauty and into your eyes so full of life and promise…." Erick's voice cracked, he could not continue.
Christine was crying freely now. Erick said, "I'm sorry Christine" joining her once more on the bed seat. Silence fell between them. Christine took the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her neck and face. She looked up at the ceiling blinking rapidly trying to stifle the tears that were threatening to return. Sucking in a heavy breath, she turned to Erick, once again grasping his hands in hers. Erick looked up at her, confused by what he saw in her eyes. It was not anger or pity, but something he could not describe, a deep reflective look that seemed to soothe his very soul.
Christine began "I never wanted to hurt you." She paused, "I have no doubt that in all of your failings, you never intended that I come to any harm. Erick." she said raising her hand now to caress his cheek and wipe the sweat from his brow. "Erick, I chose to put on this dress….I chose to come here with you…."
His eyes now beading with tears, as she looked at him with such intensity. "I have no idea how long it will be before someone finds us, or what they intend to do when they do….I only know I have no intentions of leaving your side…not ever…." She slid closer to him. "I felt in the depths of my soul, that this would be a most fitting garment to wear now." Erick looked up at her and into her eyes, daring to dream he had heard her correctly. She smiled at him sweetly and reached out to touch his hand.