The man looked at her most seriously, "do come in my dear, there is a chair over there, do help yourself." The man closed the heavy door behind her.
Her heart was racing. Had part of agreeing to be maid at the Opera Populaire meant that she'd had to risk her own life and limb to carry out the wishes of the Vicomte? To do so did she have to honor the man's request that she deliver the post to LeMortem Street that very night? She felt like she'd gone into a panther's den. She moved toward the table, trying to avert her eyes to all that surely lay around her. She'd but one purpose for being there, and she'd see to it and be off as swiftly as she could possibly be. She sat down in the small uneven wooden chair beside the table, staring down at the floor. She could see a small glow off to her right, no doubt a fire to keep the damp chill at bay. After all, no matter how pitiful, it is where the man resided, and creature comfort was not reserved for the highbrow alone. She listened as the man closed the door, tightly latching it behind her. She at once was wishing she'd have told someone where she'd gone. In her haste for want to rid herself of the letter, she'd not thought of it.
He slowly shuffled away from her toward a small cast-iron stove that lay off to the side in the small room. He'd not had company in ages, though he did have a spare cup. He looked over his shoulder as he went about his business. "So what is it that you ask of me dear lady? It is with fair certainty that I shall make assumption that it is some unreasonable request that none other would perform for you." He paused as he wound the small lever on his grinder, depositing the coffee beans and a few other things for good measure.
The woman could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Her fear was nearly strangling her. "Yes," was all she could manage.
He sighed, shaking his head slightly as he poured the contents of the grinder into the pot to brew. "You've no need to fear dear lady, have you even once heard of a killing or maiming or any other unsavory deed that I've done?" The man was staring at the wall behind the stove.
The woman swallowed hard, "no".
The man turned smiling, his scraggly appearance nearly repulsed her, though there was a soft look in his eye. "Then what pray tell would lead you to believe that you'd have the honor of being the first?"
The woman looked down again. The man had made his point well. She let out a rather staggered breath, some of the tension of the previous moments now fleeting.
He walked over to her sitting in the chair across from her. "Now what is it that you've come to me that you are too afraid to carry out yourself?"
She held out the envelope. "I'm to deliver this."
The man took the envelope from her, she being visibly relieved for it even to be out of her hands. "Good Sir?" He looked at the envelope. "Who is Good Sir?"
The woman looked up at him, "I'm to deliver it to LeMortem Street, the undertaker there. His name is Perdue." She looked down again. Though this time she noticed behind him a small tidy bed, a nightstand with a single candle, and a rather large book lay open on his bed. No doubt he'd been reading when she disturbed him.
"Ah yes, Perdue. A finer selection could not be made." He smiled at her. "And that is it, that is all, a delivery and nothing more?"
The woman shook her head. "Considering the hour, I shan't want to travel," she paused, "that is folly, no matter the hour of day, I'd not want to travel there unaccompanied."
The man looked over his shoulder and rose, going over to the small blackened pot on the stove. He lifted it and filled two cups, bringing them back to the table with saucers. He sat one down in front of the woman. Taking the first sip of his as he sat once more in the chair.
She looked at it, and him a bit hesitantly, then lifted the cup and saucer. As the steam rose a most heavenly aroma greeted her nose. She had a confused look on her face.
The man smiled. Not a whole smile, but a half. The sort one does when they are caught off guard by their own amusement but try to quickly quell it before it is noticed. "It is the cardamom dear lady…that is what you are smelling, cardamom, and a hint of black peppercorn."
She blinked looking at him.
"Is it so impossible to believe one such as myself would enjoy an experiment or two?" He looked at her with a bit of seriousness in his eye…he'd so long been misunderstood.
She stammered, "no, no….it is that I…I've not ever…" she took her first sip. It was as smooth and even as it smelled, without even a hint of bitterness. "It is rather good." She hesitated, "thank you."
The man nodded. "LeMortem Street…Perdue…let me see, and you'll accompany me?"
The woman breathed in just slightly, "then you are willing?"
The man smiled at her over his cup, "I think you knew the answer before you arrived at my door, or surely you'd not have come."
She shifted around in her chair a bit. He was far more perceptive than she'd imagined. "You are willing then?" She paused, "and what price…what do you ask in return?"
The man's smile grew broad, he had her exactly where he wanted her. "If I am to go alone, I shall ask a much different price. But say you are to accompany me, that shall be yet another."
The woman swallowed, she'd not even considered he would do it without her, but he'd peeked her interest, she had to ask. "If you were to go alone?"
The man looked at her, "a new suit, and a dinner invitation each night until the Opera House reopens."
The woman was ashen. It could be months before the Opera House opened, she could not imagine having this man at her side every night for dinner until then. "And if I were to accompany you?"
The man laughed, he'd made his first request as outrageous as he could, so that his second would seem like a mere pittance in its shadow. "You shall join me here, dine with me here, for each of the next four Sundays. Dinner and conversation, it should be quite painless."
She had to admit though the thought unsettled her, it was considerably less than the first…but she'd have to accompany him to LeMortem Street. She supped from her cup once more, then put it down on the table and stood, affixing her cloak.
The man's eyes lowered just a bit, he'd not expected that this too would be too great a price for what she asked.
She looked at him as she turned. "We best be off. The night grows darker. The longer we wait the less pleasant the journey shall be."
The man stood, again trying to conceal his half-smile. He'd be guaranteed company for the next four weeks, even if it were of the reticent kind. It was better than being alone.
He slid on his cloak, affixing it around his neck. He took a small saber from the wall, affixing it to his belt. "For our protection, though I've doubt it shall be needed." He said as he saw the horror with which the woman gazed on him.
Soon they'd made their way out of the room. As the door closed behind them, the woman felt a bit less apprehension. Less than she'd expected in fact. Yes, she'd been terrified, and the thoughts of the impending trip to LeMortem Street would not be pleasant, but somehow her fear had diminished. Perhaps it was because she'd already faced one fear and lived to tell of it, or perhaps it was the knowledge that at least one other breathing, living thing would be accompanying her to the street of death. Whatever it was, she was grateful to not be doing so alone.
XXXXX
Pyotr and Sebastian had made their way back to their inn. They'd decided on supper in their quarters, it afforded them the greatest amount of privacy. On the morrow they'd have to inquire at several inns to see if they'd be able to make use of a sleigh, or find a courier that was heading off the way of Paris. The posts had to go out soon before goods started to arrive at inopportune times and at a location that was anything but abandoned.
Sebastian was the more cantankerous of the two this night. He was entirely tired of being cooped up like a bird in a cage. The snow was driving him literally quite mad. "Pyotr, if we do not make headway soon, we will be in severe jeopardy of all we've worked for! If they buyers begin to arrive, even before the goods have arrived, it will be difficult to explain. Then they will have want to stay the night, finding out more about our little city than we have want for them. This could not be going more terribly. Do tell me this is the last season in this village, I grow weary of it. I do not care that its half way between the best points. Something feels much different about this city as of late, and I don't like it."
Pyotr let the curtain fall out of his hand as he walked back to the table in their room that Sebastian was seated at. "We've need to be patient Sebastian. The storm has brought no doubt even Paris to its knees. We've no control over Mother Nature." He patted the man on the shoulder as he sat down in the chair across from him. "We've much more to worry about, such as how we are to collect the remainder of the things we do have at the house just outside the city. If the man and his wife remain to fully occupy it, then we shall have to find a way to retrieve our items, that, I think is a much stickier wicket if you ask me."
XXXXX
The woman had grown tired of sitting by the window staring out into the blackness. The city that lay down below her twinkled as though they were a carpet of heavenly bodies laying at the very foot of her. She'd watched for a long while a small light that traveled ever so slowly up the hill in the distance. She stood now, stretching just a bit as she made her way across the hall into the study. She'd retire there for tea until they'd returned.
It was a but a few minutes and the maid appeared with a tray and a pot of the peppermint tea that she so enjoyed. She sat sipping her first cup staring into the fire as she heard the door at the back of the house open and close. There was the business of whispered conversations, of greetings and well wishes that always took place whenever anyone returned from the city. It was a comfortable routine, predictable. She listened carefully as she heard a single, then a duo of footsteps moving ever closer to the room she now occupied. She took another sip of her tea, putting the cup in the bone china saucer, setting it down on the table.
There was a bit of quiet chatter just a few meters down the hall, adjustment of a cravat, the smoothing of lapels and the sort. The young man would want to be presentable when he joined her. There was a gentle rap on the polished oak frame at the entrance to the room. "Madame?"
"Enter." She nodded to the young maid who brought the young man several steps behind her. He held his hands behind his back, nodding politely to the woman, and the maid. "And do bring in a second cup, black pekoe for him I believe."
The young man nodded, "thank you for your generosity Madame." She'd indicated with her hand that he was to sit across from her in the chair, and he'd obliged.
"Now do tell me," she said as she lifted her cup yet again, taking a sip before continuing, "do the citizens of Chauesser fair well, have you any news to bring me?"
The young man wanted to blurt out the very thing he knew would be of most relevance, though he knew it was one he'd like to deliver with a softer blow. He would ease into it during their conversation. "First, let me offer my apology for my late return. The travel was not particularly trying though it was a bit difficult to make our way in and around the city. I did manage to make my way into several taverns, and finally the mercantile, which was brimming and overflowing with restless humanity."
The woman did not glance at him, but rather took another sip of her tea, putting her cup to rest in the saucer, placing them both on the table in front of her. She neither liked idle chatter, nor gossip. If he'd news to share with her, she wished he would get to it. "And the citizens, how did they fair?" she said reemphasizing her question.
"There were many acts of kindness done during the storm Madame. A child was delivered by a midwife, neighbors banned together to shovel away snow from the houses of the elderly and the widowed. There were several generous souls who'd braved the worst of the storm going about sweeping snow from chimneys. There were tales of delivered medicines, and meals. Generally the citizenry faired well Madame."
The woman smiled just slightly. There was something of a redeeming quality of a city who turned into itself, helping one another. "And what other news do you bring me from the city? It seems there were no deaths from the storm…that is all very good."
The young man swallowed hard. He inhaled, he had to tell her. Just then the maid entered the room, bringing the man a singular cup of tea, a slice of lemon laying in the saucer. This was merely a social gesture, for truly the woman did not have casual conversations, or tea as most others would consider it.
"Madame, I am afraid there was need for a rather heroic rescue, but alas the woman did not live long, she'd suffered some sort of injury that swiftly took her after her rescue."
The woman looked at him, now making direct eye contact. "And of what woman do you speak?" Secretly she hoped it would not be a woman with a young family at home, or one of the aged woman who so oft did such good deeds in the city.
He swallowed once more. "It was Victoria LeParue, Madame." He averted his eyes rather quickly. He knew the knowledge of her passing would be received with mixed emotion. The women had been at odds for years, though the last several it had merely been indifference on the part of his employer. No one knew what had fallen between the women, but it was obvious that she had disdain for Victoria, for each time she was mentioned in the course of conversation about the city, it was quickly dismissed in favor of any other topic.
She sat blinking, her spine stiffening, her lower lip quivering. It was finished. It was over, there was no more need to hold the woman with such hostility. The woman, who was the only link she might have had was gone. Slowly, one by one, death had claimed every link she'd had to that which had been the very reason she'd returned to this city. Now death had claimed the final player in this charade. She pressed her eyes closed. It was far too painful to consider just now, and highly improper in front of the young man.
She sat up a bit straighter. "I see." She lifted her cup once more taking another sip. "And to whom do we owe our gratitude?"
The young man looked up at her a bit confused. The teacup lay heavily in the saucer on his lap.
"For the rescue. No doubt this was an heroic effort on the part of someone was it not?"
The young man blinked, the receipt of such news had been much less tumultuous than he'd expected. "Yes Madame, there were several involved, not the least of which was her own daughter and granddaughter. There were several at the Inn that assisted in the final moments, and then there was the man who drove the sleigh, but what was on the tip of everyone's tongue at the mercantile today, was the man whom is being credited for having found the woman." The young man lifted the cup to his lips taking a sip.
"And you've the name of this man? Which of our fine gentlemen was it to whom we shall have to pay honor at our celebration?"
"Madame, it is quite strange. He is a man, fairly new to our City, though he is not new, as he's owned a house here for a number of years, but had never occupied it until recent weeks. He and his young wife have taken up residence there."
The woman looked at him quite oddly. She knew of only one such house that lay on the completely opposite side of the city. It had been unoccupied for years, though a staff did reside there each winter. "And what business would this man have had, what interest would he have in that old woman? Surely he'd not even known her."
The young man sat back in the divan. This was a bit longer conversation than he'd expected. He had fully anticipated being sent from the room as he'd delivered the news of the woman's death. "If the circulating stories are to be believed Madame, it is more extraordinary than it might seem at first blush." He waited. He needed to receive permission from her to speak freely as she abhorred gossip vehemently.
"Do go on," she said nodding to him as she took another sip from her cup.
"It seems that on more than one occasion when he and his wife first arrived in the city, the old woman made quite a nuisance of herself. Disturbing the couple while they dined, and on several other occasions as well I understand. It seems the man had been most gracious on all the encounters." He glanced up at the woman, she nodded, he should continue. "When the woman went missing in the storm there was fear that she'd perhaps attempted to travel to the man's house outside of the city. Nicole, the elder woman's granddaughter is quite close it seems to the daughter of the man who drives a dog sled. He agreed to take his sled out to the gentleman's house, to make certain that she'd not ventured there. He'd found nothing on his travel to the man's house, but once arrived, he shared the reason for his unexpected visit with the man. It seems that the man was quite insistent that he help in the search efforts that were going on in the city for the woman, though there were in truth none as all were holed up taking care of their own concerns."
The woman's brow furrowed, that was not what she had hoped to hear. No matter who had gone missing, all able-bodied men should be out looking for them. "Do go on." She said.
"There were many events that took place Madame, but the end is what is most impressive. He was deposited at the tavern, and he and he alone went out looking for the woman, though her daughter and granddaughter were also searching. Though the women returned, he did not which of course concerned the others who were at the tavern. Eventually the women returned to their search efforts and then all were gone for what some worried was too long a time to survive in such weather. Then a search party was sent out for them."
The woman looked at him rather disgustedly. "Was that the first search party that went out? Pray do not tell me they waited until nearly half-dozen people were missing before any of the men were willing to go?" She said with more than a hint of disgust in her voice.
"Madame, I am quite afraid that was the case. It took over an hour but the lot of them were found, including the old woman, who apparently had been in the man's arms and he'd been making his way back to the tavern when he himself had nearly succumbed to the elements. They were found and delivered back to the inn where they were warmed and tended to by the grandson of our dear departed physician."
"He is now in the city?" She smiled slightly.
"Yes, he's just arrived, and already had his hands on the work of his grandfather."
"I see." She said looking down, yet another man who was part of the elaborate puzzle. "Then what of the events that led to the woman's death?"
"It seems she' had a rather large shard of glass buried deep within her side. Having lost far too much blood, there was nothing to be done."
The woman sat up a bit straighter, sitting her tea cup down on the table. "I'd like to see to taking care of the arrangements for this woman, there is little doubt that her daughter shan't have any means with which to give her a proper burial."
The young man looked down at his lap. "I'm afraid that shan't be necessary Madame."
She looked at the man, "and why is that, has the undertaker set aside his normal greed and decided to do work without his customary fee?"
"No Madame, the man, he apparently insisted upon taking care of her final expenses. It is rumored he's even gone so far as to have contacted a seamstress to sew garments for proper mourning for the two grieving women."
The woman blinked. She'd known no other, not even of the wealthiest families in the city who would have been willing to do such a thing for someone they bearly knew. "It seems we have quite a gentleman indeed. He shall be a most welcome addition to the society in Chausser. I should very much like to arrange a meeting, perhaps prior to giving him honor at the festival…" she paused, the young man's repose told her that there was more than he knew that she did not. "Whatever is it?"
"You see, as he recovered by the fire, it seems that he overheard talk of such a thing, perhaps a consideration on your part to honor him for his selfless efforts."
The woman looked at him. "And what of it?"
"It seems the man became quite enraged by it."
"Enraged by the thought of being honored for his most courageous efforts? That is utter nonsense."
The young man fidgeted with his hands nervously in his lap. "Madame, it seems that he went on to address quite a large crowd that had gathered at the tavern, and then made a swift departure after as much. Again, if sources can be believed, he was quoted as having said something to the nature of." He pulled the paper from his pocket, he'd collected as much of it from the conversations as he could.
"What know you of the value of life? Have you read of John Locke, of David Hume, their theories of life, of the human condition? What right have you to value one life with more weight than another? Whatever has breath, has meaning, has value. In this city with no lack of feckless nebbishes, you fool yourselves into believing a pedigree somehow entitles one to pass judgment on another. There is a paucity of good and compassionate souls that might come to the aid of another just for the sake of the value of that life, no matter how intrinsic it might seem You quibble over matters of felicitating one who does not require it, nor has any desire to receive such genuflection. Chauesser is not in need of pompous fops, off-scourings, or of ne'er do-wells, but in need of men and women of prudence and lacking in arrogant subjugation, who are but willing to exact compassion wherever it is required of them. Pray do tell, all of this pomp and circumstance on display as if you were living a refined and civilized life is but a façade for ineffectual souls? A mere shadow of a city full of citizens content to bask in the glow, but not roll a sleeve, nor lift an arm to aid another? Now, because of this lazy abandon you have want to exalt a man who does nothing more than exercise freely his moral conscience? No, no, good sirs, do not confuse yourselves! There is no hero standing among you today…I am but a man…a man who did what he ought, when it was needed, and nothing more.Good men who tarry allow evil to triumph. Gentlemen, do ask yourselves…what sort of man does this knowledge find you this morning?"
The young man sat back, nearly certain he'd quoted verbatim what he'd heard recanted.
The woman sat back, utterly speechless. Was it possible that another soul out there shared her same passion? The very same values she'd hoped to instill with gentle support to the city, he had delivered in but a few moments of heated dialogue. She sat quietly drinking in all that was said before she next inquired.
"What of the man now? Is he still at the Inn?" Secretly she hoped he was, she'd had mind to rise and insist that her staff carry her into the city that very night. She simply had to meet such a man for herself. Perhaps with the death of those that were closest to what she truly held dear, the heavens had seen fit to send her a replacement for what she had sought for so very long. Something inside of her tingled, as though a long dormant candle wick had been nipped at by a visiting flame. Perhaps there was hope for a benefactor for this city after all. Perhaps when she departed he would stand in her stead, watching over this city that she loved so very much.
The young man replied, "after he'd delivered his verbal lashings it is said that he made his way angrily from the tavern, and all assume he's made his way home to his wife."
"I see." She said standing now, the young man doing the same.
"I should like very much for you to see to the delivery of a post on the morrow, even if it requires you to do so yourself. I shall draft a letter announcing the intention of a visit to the man and his wife. No other in the city is to know of my intentions, is that clear?" She looked at the young man most seriously.
"Yes Madame, whatever you instruct, I shall see to it." He stood awaiting further instruction.
"I shall draft it in my room, and have it delivered to you before the morrow. Then you shall see to its delivery. I shall not want to impose on this man or his household, let us plan a visit for two days after the posts arrival. You will see to all the details then, whether it be by sleigh or carriage then. I should also like to make arrangements for preparations of several bouquets of flowers from the greenhouse and a box of the chocolates that the chef prepares during the holidays, as a treat for the young man's wife. Surely there is some reward for her to have supported her husband in his efforts. Surely he'd not refuse her a gift." She looked at the young man for the first time showing a bit of life returning to her eyes. "Is this all possible within two-days time sir?"
The young man stood straight, "yes Madame, it shall be as you wish. I shall see to all of the details myself."
"You are dismissed young man," she said, turning to leave the room before he. She paused, "thank you for delivering this news sir, it is a job well done." She smiled at him and departed.
The young man stood there for a few fleeting seconds, hands drawn properly behind his back. He'd have assignment for the next days seeing to every detail. In a household known for nothing more than silent service, and a rather mundane routine, this was a most welcome assignment. He'd see to every last detail for her, every last one.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: So much is happening now, and our Dear Erik is on his way to the Opera House, and Christine, she is on her way to a place Erik knew would be safe for her, where she would not be found. Don't worry, Erik and Christine reappear in the next chapter…
Captainoblivious: Slides in on her knee indeed! Sounds like you have been busy my dear. I trust that Suzy must be in working order again, never having made a rendevous with the Patmobile I see! LOL! Hmmm…only ten minutes from your home…well, that is promising. Have you ever seen the rather schmaltzy movie 'I'll be home for Christmas'? If so, perhaps you will find humor in your possible travels home for the holidays, with Rob and Suzy! Ahhh yes…the imprint of cologne…if only guys knew how crazy that drove us ladies….and I understand about not wanting to wash your sweaters….ahhh…. I'm certain that this is how Christine would have felt about Erik…..
Yes, a great deal going on with the story. There are so many people in the story now it tends to get a bit confusing, but they are all but seeds for the blooming story…yes…there is a DUN..DUN..Dunnnn coming around the corner…..hmmmm….I can hardly wait until it is revealed…..
Have a wonderful day! And do keep in touch. Your Phamily will be most interested in knowing all about this Rob guy, and whether he is worthy of you. LOL!
Phantomsrogue: A tangled web, yes, I have always been a fan of rather complicated stories, perhaps that explains why this has become so involved. Real life is rather complicated and so it seems more real to me. If a story were easy it just lacks believability….I suppose the opposite could be said about a story that becomes too complex! LOL! I must say I think Erik is a rather strong man…and you know they say weathering a storm in life makes you that much stronger, more useful, and often more compassionate of others….hmmmm….perhaps in an odd way it was the seasoning his soul needed to heal. I laughed, mucking up the story line. No doubt you shall see the poor pitiful wretch of a boy did have a purpose, a most pointed purpose….hmm…
I am most interested in learning about this ball you are attending…oh if only Erik could be there….it would be a dream come true. Ah yes, homework. I rather liked my legal research class, imagine that. I would sit in the law library for hours, nay, longer…I'd start early in the morning with a cup of espresso and a croissant (smuggled in of course) and read and read and read…then suddenly I'd look up because my stomach started to growl and it would be dark outside. I have to say law cases I find nearly as interesting as literature…things are almost so unbelievable that they seem like they should be fiction. Have you ever seen the movie 'Pelican Brief'? If not, rent it. I felt like the woman that Julia played in the movie when she was doing research for the brief she was writing! LOL! It can be a tedious class for some…I understand that completely. Yes, college is tiring after awhile, and it does often seem like it prevents you from actually "living" if you will. But I have to say there are only a few classes that I walked away from that I can actually say that I didn't learn something that I later used in my career. Even some of the most difficult classes for me tended to be the ones that I drew a great deal from, if nothing more than the very act of learning how to preserver through tough assignments! The truly wonderful thing about being an educated person, is that one day you will be able to do all of those things that you've had to set aside for so long, and you will enjoy them all the more because you had to wait for them…and hopefully…will have chosen a career that will help you to afford indulging in such passions!
Bon Nuit, mon cheri
WriterMuseoftheNight: Poor Christine…yes Erik's loyalties seem to be a bit divided, which of course is rather difficult for both of them. She understands, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. They both truly long for a period free from strife and conflict…and perhaps this last effort will finally provide them a time for some serious solitude. Hmmmmm…. Yes, no longer having to hide behind that mask has allowed him freedoms that he'd never known before, and now, he has a new mask, an unblemished face that no one has ever seen, making it all the easier for him to be a new man…..
The flashback…I've not read Kay's novel, but I have heard reference to a number of parts including that Erik was under the influence of some woman in Persia. In order to stay true to something that is sort of a Phantom prequel, then I've decided to throw in a few things about the subject. It helps us to understand the dark angst of a man who was even more scarred inside than he was on the outside.
Erik is probably, as you suggest, in less danger, and you are right, Crawlings does think him to be dead…how perceptive of you my dear! Christine is in danger only if she is found because she will have so very much to explain…and it would put all that she now has in great jeopardy if she is found.
Aude sapere - Dare to know!
Diveprincess: You are most welcome my dear. The letter is good, very good. If she's expressed the desire not to have visitors, you have to respect that. The letter was no doubt cathartic for you, and will allow her to know all you've thought of her. Bravo! Oh, and you were not blabbering…not at all. I understand that you are concerned. Just letting him know that you care about him, and reminding him of your pact and that is why you care, is about as much as you can do. You mentioned that he rationalizes his actions…truth be told…we all do that to some degree or another…its just that his is more irrational than he is yet ready to understand. Just keep being his friend…in the end, if I might quote Martin Luther King Jr., "In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
Thank you for your kind words about my stepmother. When you said that you know that everything happens for a reason….Six weeks before my step-mother died of cancer, my father had a heart attack and died just a few days before Christmas. I'd kicked myself a hundred times over for not being with him that night, for surely I could have administered CPR and he'd have lived. Though I'd had the strange urge to visit him that night, I didn't go, and of course then he had his heart attack. You can only imagine the guilt that riddled my soul for weeks afterward…I somehow felt like I'd ignored a gut instinct, and it had in the end cost my father his life. Now the point I'm trying to make is that his death taught me never to ignore my gut instincts, but something further, about fate. It was the evening of my stepmother's funeral that I walked outside and looked up at the cold wintry sky. I remembered my father's words, and suddenly my heart released the painful grip of guilt that had clouded my soul since the night of his death. He'd told me one time that the thing he feared most about getting older was one day being alone. You see my stepmother had cancer for a number of years before she died. He always worried that he would be the one that would be left alone, and he didn't think he would be able to bare it. He prayed that he'd never be alone. So you see, fate, nay, God saw fit to answer his prayer, allowing him to go before she….so why things happen the way they do is sometimes a mystery…but there is always a reason…always.
Take care my dear, and keep up the good work in school!
Phantomfan13: Yes, it is so very good to be back! You do know me well, I've a knack for drawing things out such as their arrival in Paris! LOL! Congratulations on your 91 in English and Science…Erik would be very proud! Phy-ed, while I am not undermining its importance is of less significance than the others…so do not worry.
You mention the new HP movie. I know there are a great many people who are just gnawing at their fingers to get into the theater to see it! I hope you and your friends really have a good time, and are able to sit back and just enjoy the movie…though it is hard not to criticize isn't it?
SilverRains187: I smiled when I imagined you sitting on the edge of your seat, and something falling off a desk startling you, sending you to the floor. I sometimes feel that way when I'm writing, I get so excited about where it is going that I nearly fall off my chair!
I think you are right, if Erik has more of these flashbacks…and they seem to be coming more frequently, then he will have to let them out somehow. Will he ever share them with Christine? I suppose that is dependent on whether he ever feels he can ever truly let her in on his former life….if he feels she can handle it and still love him anyway.
NordyGirl: Your creativity continues to amuse me…I'd nearly forgotten about that song, but now it is stuck in my head! I myself wonder when the two of them will slip and use the wrong names, or if someone else that knows them uses the wrong names…how much confusion that would cause…hmmmm…it would get rather interesting wouldn't it?
Have a great night!
PhantomFan13: Suspense indeed. Yes my dear….wolves to be more exact. As for the rest of the questions, I am quite sorry to delay…but all the answers you seek will be provided for you soon my dear….
Faeriecatcher1: I am truly sorry about the wolves in the story. I pondered whether I should include that part or not, but there had to be some reason that the dogs that normally guard the property were taken inside, and the fire needed to be there for other reasons…though I cannot say why. The awful process that I described, was in fact something that was necessary back then with wolves because of their behavior, especially when they were on the hunt. But I am sorry if I offended you in anyway, that was not my intention my dear. I can promise you there shan't be another reference like it again in our story.
I smiled when I read that you worry about the characters even when you aren't reading the story…alas…I've sucked you into my world! I think about them when I go for my walks, when I'm having dinner…when I'm waiting in traffic…well, you get the idea!
Have a good night my dear!
Batteredchild: Good to hear from you again my dear! How is the weather for you? It has been cold in my area of the world, in fact we had our first major snow-storm last night…traveling to and from work was rather interesting! I did like your one-liner… "I hope the wolves get Crawlings"…I have a feeling there are some in the family that would like to sick those wolves on me if I don't get that boy out of the story and soon! LOL!
Yes, I feel for Christine too. She sort of tricked him into promising that he'd not part them, and in turn he tricked her only to keep her safe…though as it will turn out, it might be good that she's come to Paris…she learns a good deal more about that husband of hers!
Have a wonderful night!
Lady Winifred: I don't have a name for her, but I assume you are referring to the woman from Kay's novel. She is a treacherous woman isn't she? Thank you for your compliment on the story. It is getting a little complicated right now, but all the parts of the puzzle will fit into place in the coming chapters…
Passed Over: Welcome to the Phamily! We hope your stay with our little Phamily will be a long and happy one! You are correct, no one, probably not even Raoul now is looking for her…all think her to be dead most likely. The problem would be that if she were discovered she'd have much to explain, and no doubt she and Erik would be parted forever, and he would be hunted down… I must congratulate you, or commend you for joining our Phamily. I know I've said it to other new members recently, but it is quite a commitment to read the story this far into it…thank you…and I do hope that in the end you will have found it to be a worthy investment of your time!
Now as has become tradition for our Phamily…we simply must know, if you are willing to share, the origins of your tag name. Passed Over….I am hoping that you are not a lover scorned…or a former contestant on American Idol….Do share with your new little Phamily my dear!