Nicole woke to find her mother sound asleep in the chair. She stretched just slightly, hoping beyond hope that she had fallen asleep and that the events of the past two days had been all part of an elaborate, ghastly, dream. She began blinking slowly, heavily, as one does when they are not yet fully awake. Shaking her head she began to mutter to herself. How could all of this come to pass? Nicole yawned, her jaw cracking just slightly from the motion.
"I may be of some use to you in that regard Nicole." A voice came to her from the darkened corner of the room. "Your jaw, it needs a bit of adjustment, hot packs perhaps."
Nicole startled, sitting straight up, pulling the covers around her. "You gave me a fright!" She exclaimed, "pray do tell do you have something to slow my racing heart?" She said looking at the doctor with a bit of seriousness to her tone and a hesitant glare in her eye.
"She sleeps peacefully Nicole, do not worry. She woke for a few brief moments and had a bit of soup, but then she fell asleep once more." He said glancing over at her mother. "She needs rest Nicole. After the funeral is over, she needs a few days rest to regain her strength."
Nicole's irritation, quickly forgotten, as they began to talk of her mother. "How many have you seen like her…like my mother?" She said, glancing at the doctor with innocent eyes.
"Many Nicole. One of my terms while I was in school required that I work with elders in a hospital not far from where I then studied. It was there that I encountered many who had been exposed to scarlet fever as children. Some had lived much longer than their siblings or friends, and thought they had beaten it. Sadly they were mistaken. True, some are stronger than others, and live a much fuller life, but some do not fair as well." He glanced from Nicole to her mother and back once more at Nicole.
"Your mother was indeed one of the fortunate ones. She was able to marry, bare a child, live to care for her own mother. Not many had even that much life to live, the fever had weakened them so. Your mother has done remarkably well Nicole. Perhaps it is her rather stubborn disposition." He said, staring at her with such an intensity that she'd no choice but to accept without question his reply.
Nicole's stomach had begun to growl, much to her chagrin. "I am dreadfully sorry, my manners…" she blushed profusely.
"No, no, do not apologize. It is indeed a good sign that you have hunger. Do rest my dear, I'll fetch you something."
Nicole paused, looking toward the window. "Do not trouble yourself, it shall be morning within a few hours time, I can have breakfast when…"
The doctor stood before her, his hand raised to hush her. "It is no trouble at all my dear. A hunger such as yours should not be dismissed so easily. No doubt as you wake the cares of the day will deprive you of even that natural reflex. It is likely that your mother will sleep several hours more at least. If you would allow me, I should be most happy to bring you something now. You are in need of sustenance Nicole."
Nicole looked down at her hands. She hadn't noticed that she'd been bunching the length of her nightdress in her hands as he spoke. Having someone wait on her was something she was wholly unaccustomed to. He'd such sincerity in his eyes, she was compelled to comply. "Thank you…thank you for all you've done on my family's behalf. I shan't know how to express my gratitude."
"No need Nicole. If you've had time to consider my offer, perhaps we shall be able to share in our needs, thus making displays of gratitude unnecessary." He smiled, rose, walking over to Nicole. "Do rest, I shall be but a few moments." Then he departed.
Nicole lay back down, tucking the folds of blankets beneath her head. She'd known then that she'd accept his offer, if for no other reason than it would benefit her mother. She'd nearly blurted it out, but seeming too eager at this juncture, would be a bit too forward. She'd want him to know she'd carefully considered it, and not accepted it out of sheer desperation…though that is just how she felt at that moment.
She glanced at her mother. Yes, she was a fighter. She could only hope now that she'd still have a good bit of that in her yet. If only she could manage to hang on one more summer. One more summer to take pleasure in the things she truly enjoyed. Nicole yawned. She'd slept, though she didn't feel rested. Perhaps this fatigue was one that only time and healing could lessen.
XXXXX
Christine thought herself to be dreaming again. She tried to open her eyes, but the lids were heavy and would not submit. There were voices, nay, she was mistaken, but she'd have nearly wagered on it. She strained to listen, but there was mere silence. It had been her hopeful imagination she was certain. She nestled once more down beneath the covers. She could feel that the warmth of the fire had begun to wane. Perhaps what she'd heard was the conversation between the young men in the room next, discussing who's turn it was to tend the fires. She smiled in her slumber. Erik would be most pleased with how they'd taken such fine care of her.
She'd begun to wander back to sleep once more when she felt a slight breeze from the movement of the curtain at the entrance of her room. No doubt it was Erphan, at the ready to tend the fire. She'd not want to startle him, but at the same time, she'd not want him to think her entirely unappreciative of his efforts. She'd not opened even one eye, but began to speak.
"Thank you for tending the fire, it is most comfortable now. Your efforts are met with my sincere gratitude." Christine smiled, she'd heard a sigh. She listened, but no customary return had been made.
As she listened, he rose and walked next to the divan where she rested. Immediately feeling a bit uncomfortable for being gazed upon in her sleep by a man other than her husband….she held her breath. Her voice nearly rose in her throat as she sensed him leaning over her. Her eyes flew open at the precise moment that his lips graced her cheek. She blinked rapidly several times before she sat straight up, nearly wanting to scream.
"Erik!" she gasped, flinging her arms about his neck, he pulling her up from beneath the covers into his arms. She buried her face in his neck as she began to cry. "Oh Erik…." She said as her warm tears fell on his flesh.
He scooped her up into his arms, sitting down on the divan, gently tilting her head back with his finger beneath her chin. He gazed down into her eyes before taking her lips into his tenderly. A staggered breath escaped her chest as she embraced him fully. Pulling herself as close to him as she could, a grip that told him, unequivocally, that she'd not be letting him out of her reach.
He smiled as he took his lips from hers only long enough to say, in a nearly breathless tone, "I've missed you my dear. I've so very much to tell you. But for now, I'd like nothing more than to hold you in my arms."
Christine's heart swelled in her chest until she was certain its beating were visible from the outside. Her questions could wait. She needed to embrace her husband…and if that meant that she'd hold him for hours without a word exchanged between them, then…she would, without question.
He lifted the covers on the divan, slipping Christine beneath them once more. He returned to the fire, putting yet another set of logs into the hearth. He rose, removing his smoking jacket.
Christine smiled. She had not been wrong. No doubt what she had heard was an interchange between Erik and the woman, for even now, the jacket he'd laid across the chair, was the one the woman had been working on that very night!
Erik turned to face Christine. He'd no expression to speak of on his face, though his brow was furrowed, and his lips pursed. He'd much to tell her, but not now. He'd not mention any of it until he'd warmed himself through, and could manage to start at the beginning. He'd start with the events in Chauesser, and end with…he gasped, with the events at Raoul's. He'd want her to be the first to know of such a thing, for no doubt word would inevitably find its way back to Chauesser, and he knew, better than anyone, that the truth could not be outrun.
Christine watched him with curious eyes, as he sat, removing each boot, placing them neatly on the side of the chair. She saw him shiver, no doubt he was chilled through and through. His hair was a bit tousled, his cheek a bit red, and his eyes held a tired that she'd seen only several times before. He was weary. Indeed, he needed to be wrapped in her arms, a soft touch upon his shoulder, and rest. He most decidedly needed rest. She smiled at him, lifting the covers in invitation.
A smile crossed Erik's face as he looked at her; walking toward her. There was no sweeter thing in this life than being welcomed home, into the loving arms of your wife; nothing at all that he'd encountered. She loved him, and every day, he'd become a little more grateful for her. As he slipped beneath the covers, trying to take her into his arms, she pushed at his shoulders, scowling at him. At first he did not understand until she quickly maneuvered his head to her chest, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulder, slipping the covers over his back. A gentle touch guiding his cheek to her collar bone, as he came to rest in her arms.
Slowly she began to stroke his back with one hand, running the other warm palm along his neck and up into the thickness of his hair. He sighed, a relinquishing, relieved sigh, as he slipped his arms around her waist. Yes, this is what he needed now more than anything…to know that he was loved…and her gentle touch…it was like being in heaven already…in the arms of an angel.
XXXX
Madame Giry had just reclined, all hope of a visit from Nadir now faded with the ebbing evening, and approaching sunrise. It was not five in the morning, but the hints of pink on the horizon were swelling, and her eyelids grew heavy. She'd read as long as she could after seeing Meg off to bed. Thankfully the dear had remained asleep for the night, Madame Giry having stayed at her side for several hours lest she wake and find no one in the room.
She closed the cover on the book, laying it on the nightstand next to the bed, and turned down the lamp. She stared up at the ceiling. Resting seemed to be all she could manage to do, for true slumber seemed to elude her. The stress and worry for all whom she loved washed over her as certain as the waves that washed the beaches at Courtland manor.
She rolled over to her side, bunching the pillow up, resting her chin on her arm. Christine was now passed her third month of pregnancy. She hoped that all had continued to go well with her. She'd no doubt that Erik was even now doting on her, catering to her every need. Christine had not been cared for in that way for many years, and Erik had never had anyone to care for in that manner, so for the pair, they were a perfect match.
She smiled. No doubt their child would be attractive, no matter boy or girl. And loved, most definitely loved.
Madame Giry's mind wandered back to her friend, Gustav, Christine's father. She'd never had privilege of knowing her mother, but from all he'd told her of the woman, she had been elegant, refined, and had the sweetest disposition of anyone he'd ever known. Her death at Christine's birth had nearly undone him. Had it not been for the fact that the young baby reminded him so of his wife, and that she'd be needing a father, he'd felt as though she'd have been far better off with another family, and he in the ground next to his wife.
The child was quiet and undemanding. It wasn't long before she was cooing at her father's touch. He'd proclaimed that the dear little soul had saved him from throwing himself from the tallest bridge in Paris! Madame Giry sighed. That man had loved his daughter more than life itself…how very sad that he'd not been able to raise her, nor to see the wonderful woman she'd become!
Madame Giry shook her head. The irony of the life that Christine now led was a bit unnerving. Gustav had spoken repeatedly of an angel of music that watched over all things musical. He'd told Christine that when one loves music the way that he and she did, the angel of music took particular interest in them, and watched over them as well. The more the illness took him, the more he spoke of it, and the more Christine clung to the hope that the angel was real. It would have been far too cruel to tell the young child when her father died, that the angel was no more than fiction spun, a brilliant story told for her heart's sake.
She'd let Christine go on believing it to be true. When first she'd learned of Erik revealing himself to Christine, embracing the persona of angel, she was angered. How was she to ever set the girl straight with the truth when she now had heard him speak, called on him by name? Madame Giry had argued with Erik on that very subject for a long while. Alas, Madame Giry relented as it pleased the girl so…she'd begun sleeping through the night not long after, and generally thrived with Erik's nurturing. What they had both desperately needed was a friend. What in the end they had found, was the loves of their lives.
True when Erik was threatened with Raoul's arrival, he'd become more aggressive. His very lessons more demanding of Christine. It was as if he were afraid that he would lose her forever. And she had to admit, there was a time when she herself was not all that certain that Christine would not leave the Opera Populaire in favor of her childhood sweetheart and the promise of a much different life. She'd grown into a young woman, and though she loved the Phantom, she longed for flesh that she could touch, and could love her in return.
How Madame Giry's heart ached for them both. She could hardly have told Christine that the angel was the Phantom, and that the Phantom was man of flesh and blood! She'd have thought her to be quite mad!
She shook her head. She'd never be able to recall with accuracy the exact turn of events, or what had finally prompted Erik to reveal himself, but from that moment on, Madame Giry had known, that she would be his….and his forever. Now for their love to be expressed in the most ultimate way, with the birth of a child…she could think of no greater happiness for the two. For the two had become one in flesh…but they'd become one in spirit some years before…perhaps long before either of them had even known it.
Madame Giry rolled to her other side, turning her back on the light she'd revealed by peeking beneath the curtains that Madeline had drawn just the night before. Surely Raoul would be waking with quite a headache. Meg no doubt would be deeply concerned when she'd become aware of his injury, but perhaps if Raoul delivered the news to her himself, she'd not be as alarmed.
Surely now with the arrival of daylight, the threat of the wolves would pass, at least until night fell again. She sighed, closing her eyes once more.
She could only hope that Meg and Raoul would soon be able to settle into a bit more comfortable and usual engagement. Once Meg was able to travel, the trip back to Chauesser would do her good. To be reunited with Christine even if for but a few weeks would do both of them well. At some point it would be impossible for the young women to see one another, but for now, Meg would be thankful to visit, and learn of Christine's blessing.
It had been most strenuous for Madame Giry to keep Christine and Erik's confidence in that regard. She'd be much relieved once Meg knew of it. Perhaps even after Meg returned, they could arrange several more meetings before what would certainly be the end of Elizabeth and Stephan's lives. Once that time came to pass, it would be the end of the visits to Chauesser, and a fateful farewell for the families. A tear grew in her eye. She'd hope that it would be a long time from now, at least through the birth of their child.
Then they could keep in touch by mail, perhaps writing to one another as cousins would, though they'd surely never be able to lay eyes on one another again.
Her mind wandered to Nadir. She'd not felt such things for a man, not since her husband had passed on. He was everything she was not. He knew much of the world; she conversely knew all about Paris, but that is where her familiarity ended. He had enjoyed great wealth; she had raised her daughter with rather simple, though not with pauper's means. He no doubt was a learned, educated man; she knew only of what she'd read in books herself, for she'd had no formal instruction since finishing school. There were so many things that were so very different, but what they did share was a passion for protecting those that they loved.
She smiled. Though she was entirely certain that they would love each other from afar, perhaps for the remainder of their days, they would likely never be able to enjoy a relationship such as that of Meg and Raoul, nor Erik and Christine. She pressed her eyes closed. She was a blessed woman. Blessed to have a child, an employer, and the love of friends. She was blessed…but a small part of her wanted more…she'd been alone far too long.
She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes before opening them one last time to glimpse at the pink hues of the approaching morning sky. No matter where life found them, they could all share in the joy that they could watch the sun rise, the sun set together, even if time and distance separated them, the heavens would keep them forever joined.
She startled, there was a gentle, quiet rap on the door. She sat up turning her ear. Had it been her imagination? She heard it again, this time quite distinctly. It was not at the door leading to the hallway, but the door leading to the space between her room and Nadir's. Her heart pounded in her chest, her sense of overwhelming tiredness fleeting. She rose, going to the door leaning against it. "Nadir?" She said hopefully.
Through the muffled thickness of the heavy wooden door came his voice, "yes my dear lady, it is I. May I come in, I've much to unburden myself of, and much to tell you my dear."
She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the door. Though she wanted to fight it, a sense of glee filled her at seeing him again, a smile crossing her lips as she reached for the handle of the door. "Yes, do come in." She said opening the door just slightly for him to enter.
Once inside he looked to be certain that they were alone. Finding no one else there he embraced her. "My dear lady, come, let us sit far from the door. I've much to share with you."
He let go of her, taking her by the hand, leading her over to the alcove by the window. "We must be as quiet as possible, lest anyone hear us. If we are happened upon, I will explain that I'd come to tell you of the goings on outside this night." He said looking at her in the dark of the room. He could barely make out her silhouette.
"Yes, yes." She replied. "Is everything alright my dear? Did Sara not meet with approval at the undertakers?" She recanting what the doctor had told her.
Nadir turned his head slightly, he'd nearly forgotten the ruse they'd invented to distract the women. "Yes, she is at the undertaker's as instructed. Madame, let me be rather direct. It is not proper perhaps to speak of it so candidly, but for the sake of brevity, lest we be discovered, I do not want to miss telling you."
She nodded. He took a deep breath and began in a whisper. "Erik has come to Raoul's. I do not yet know why he'd ventured here, as there was no time to explain."
Madame Giry's eyes grew wide, her hand rising to cover her gaping lips.
"The Crawlings boy was indeed about. This accounted for some of the gunshots you heard this very night."
Madame Giry scowled, "and what of the wolves, was that not true?" She said as she began to tremble.
"No, the wolves were indeed here, injuring a pair of Raoul's dogs, but in the end they were deterred."
Madame Giry felt herself becoming numb.
"The boy had in fact came here. Whether it was the doctor and I would led him here, or if he'd already been here, we do not know. What we do know is that he'd intended to kill Raoul, and had nearly succeeded when I screamed out of horror. Raoul hit the ground out of instinct, and though he'd been grazed, he'd not been injured."
Madame Giry was now standing. Her cheeks appearing as if she'd had a run in with a vampire, for every drop of color had faded from them. "So what of Erik, how did he present himself?"
Nadir inhaled. This part would be long and full of detail, after detail. Before he knew it, all that he knew had been shared, including Nadir's speculation that it had in fact been Erik who felled the boy.
Madame Giry had begun pacing back and forth in the room. She was nervously biting at the nail on her thumb, something she'd not done in years. Nadir watched patiently waiting for her to return to the chair across from him. Acceptance of such information simply could not be rushed.
Madame Giry finally came to rest in front of Nadir. "Is there anything more?"
Nadir looked down, if only he could tell her, but he could not. "The final thing to be done has already been done. I found Raoul's gun on the veranda, and removed one bullet from the chamber. When he regains his consciousness, I will do my best to help him remember what it was that happened." Nadir looked away, he could barely look at her for he knew it to be a blatant mistruth.
Madame Giry fidgeted with her robe. "You have no doubt considered what this will mean have you not?" She looked at Nadir with serious eyes. "The City of Paris will rejoice in its freedom from the clutches of that dreadful boy…Nadir….Raoul will be a hero."
Nadir now rose, he beginning to pace the floor. He'd not considered that byproduct, but yes, it was obvious that it would be so. "Would there be any harm in it? The story, would it bring harm to anyone if they believed it to be so?" He looked at her with pleading eyes. His only intention had been to protect Erik, he'd not thought of the consequences.
Madame Giry stared out the window. Her eyes seeming to be on fire as the pale pink gave way to burnt orange of the impending sun. "There is no harm in the story Nadir, with the exception that it is not the truth." Her words falling like an axe upon his mind.
"What would you have me to do Madame Giry? If not this story then what of the explanation of the boy's death? There were no others about, no others in the yard. If Raoul continues with his thoughts of having seen the Phantom, then fear and upheaval will once again be upon the city! For surely even now….it is as the people of the City believe…the Phantom is dead."
His words rung an alarmingly pure truth…for indeed…the Phantom was dead….never to haunt the City as he had again. In his place was a man. A complicated, beautiful, talented, strong, brilliant man, who would soon be a father in a city far from this one. Erik would be the Phantom no more…it was best that he was laid to rest…just as they City believed he had been.
Nadir and Madame Giry stood looking at each other. The plainness of his words resonating in their minds. The Phantom, the creature of darkness, the one who had been their friend…he was gone…and though what took it's place was a far better thing…they mourned the loss of that force. The force that had forever changed the face of Paris…nay…history itself. As they stood before the window, taking in the rising of the sun, Nadir reached out for Madame Giry's hand. She grasped onto it as if it were a life line. Though all was not as they would want it to be between them, in that moment, they shared the very essence of life.
Author's Notes:
My dear, dear, Faithfuls: It is with much apology that I must tell you that there will be no individual responses to your wonderful reviews tonight. I barely had time today to post this chapter which I penned during my absence. I promise that Wednesday's edition will continue with the proper response to your reviews…and a hearty welcome to several new members to our Phamily! Bon Nuit!