AN: On time! I can't believe it! But anyway, read, enjoy and review, please!

Disclaimer: Repeating myself gets boring after a while. But still, I don't own it. It belongs to ALW, GL and SK. Happy now, all you lawyers out there? Oh, and the song belongs to ALW, as well.

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A Whole New World

Chapter 4

Anything but lonely,
Anything but empty rooms
There's so much in life to share -
What's the sense when no one else is there?

Anything But Lonely, by Andrew Lloyd Webber

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Christine stood alone in the ballroom. The once impressive and beautiful room was now empty and forgotten. No-one had danced here for many, many years. But Lady commanded that the room was to be kept clean.

With a sigh, Christine began to clean the dusty room.

It was eerily silent. The ballroom was in the west wing of the house and anybody rarely came here. But Christine wished there would be some noise, just something to keep her from her thoughts.

Outside, the snow was falling softly. Looking out of the window, Christine smiled softly. She could remember that night so long ago, on the rooftop of the Paris Opera. The night Raoul had told her that he loved her. It had been snowing, as well.

Share each day with me, each night, each morning…

Say you love me - you know I do.

Love me, that's all I ask of you.

Christine felt a sharp jab of pain in her heart. He promised me he'll always be there… That he will always love me – and now, he's gone. He broke his promise.

He broke his promise.

He had left her, and now she was alone in the world.

How could he do this to me?

Christine raised her arms and turned her eyes to the ceiling.

"Why, Raoul? Why did you leave me? Why?" she asked, as if he was there, watching her.

She hated him for doing that to her. He had promised to always be there and then he had left her alone. They all have left me…My father, Raoul and…my Angel. Why? Why, why, why, why?

"I hate you!" she screamed on top of her lungs, not sure to who it was addressed, before falling to the floor, sobbing.

She didn't know if she had been lying there for five or fifty minutes, when she became aware of someone else's presence in the room.

Sitting up, she found herself looking into the eyes of Mme. Perrault, the elderly French housekeeper, who also was the next in command after Andrew, the butler.

"I… I'm sorry, I'll get back to work… I'm very sorry…" Christine stammered and started to stand up.

But Mme. Perrault's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"My husband died ten years ago, in an accident. He fell from his horse. When doctors first told me that he's dead, I didn't believe them. It took some time to make me believe them.

When I finally realised that they were telling the truth, I didn't cry. I didn't spill a single tear. I went home and closed myself into my room. I felt so empty and I still didn't quite realise what was going on.

After the funeral, the anger came. I hated him for leaving me, I hated him with all my heart. All I could think about was why did he do this to me? He had said that he loved me. And when you love someone, you don't just leave them, do you? But he did exactly that – he left me alone.

Everyone around me said that they understand; that it's alright to feel this way. But they didn't really understand. No-one did. Only those who have gone through the same pain can understand what you are feeling."

Christine stared at her. What did she mean by telling her all of this?

Then Mme. Perrault started to get up.

"You are excused from your work for the rest of the day. I'll send Lorette to clean this room. But make sure that Andrew does not notice you are not working. He wouldn't appreciate it. And if you need me, you know where to find me, ma cherie." And with that, Mme. Perrault left the room, leaving a very confused Christine behind.

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Days passed and Christine got more and more used to the life as a maid. She got along pretty well with the other maids. There were five of them: Isabelle, Louise, Lorette, Lauren and herself. All were French and Lorette and Lauren were sisters.

Mme. Perrault had explained that most of the staff was French because Lady Matthew herself was French. After marrying an English lord, she had moved to England. And to not forget French and also help out young girls and boys in her homeland, she started to hire staff from France. She had a member of the household tour little country villages once in a year, searching for new maids and footmen. And as time passed, in some villages one of the older ladies started to make lists so when the annual tour came, all young lads and lassies who had at least some skill in household jobs and who needed or wanted to get away from France, would get a chance to join the Matthew household.

Lord Matthew was long since dead and the almost-empty house didn't actually need to have so many people take care of it. But Lady Matthew kept the tradition. Christine was thankful that it was so. Lady's strange habit had given her a chance for a new life.

Christine had been in the Matthew household for exactly two months when Lady Matthew started to show first signs of her illness. A doctor was fetched and a nurse employed.

But the neither the doctor nor the nurse could stop the inevitable. Lady Matthew was already very old and had always had a fragile health. So all the doctor, nurse and staff could do was ease her pain.

Two weeks after showing first signs of illness, Lady Matthew died.

Christine wasn't sure what she should feel. She was unsure about her own future and sad at the loss of her mistress, but that's where her feelings ended. She hadn't even spoken to the Lady, so there were no personal feelings. And she was quite sure the situation was similar for most of the staff.

A day after the funeral, Andrew gathered them all in the drawing room. The staff, five maids, three footmen, a cook and a kitchen boy, were all nervously standing while Andrew and Mme. Perrault sat. Between them, a short and bald man was sitting comfortably in Lady Matthew's favourite armchair.

Andrew broke the silence that had taken over the room.

"This is Lady Matthew's lawyer, Mr. Harris. He has come to explain her testament to us."

Mr. Harris coughed slightly and seemed to shrink underneath the stares that were now fixed on him. Lorette started to say something, but was quickly silenced by a glare from Mme. Perrault.

"Ahem. Yes… As Mr. Robbins said, I am - was - Lady Matthew's lawyer," The bald man said.

Christine was momentarily confused as to who exactly was Mr. Robbins, but after a moment she understood that it was probably the butler's last name.

"… so to put it shortly, all of her wealth goes to a dear friend of hers. And you all can go and work in the house of that man. I have contacted him and he said that at this point, he has no use for this house. He will rent it out. But you all are welcome to work at his mansion, if you wish. You will be paid well, probably even better than here, because the master of that house is known for his generosity. And if you do not wish to work for him, we will find you new jobs. Lady Matthew ensured that you will be cared for," Mr. Harris ended his speech.

Christine thought about it for a moment. She knew that it was almost impossible for her to find another job as good as the one she had now. She was a foreigner and her grasp of English was still only enough to understand but not to speak. She had only two and a half months worth of experience as a maid.

Yes, she would work for that Lord Destler, whoever he was.

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I'm sorry for not bringing Erik in, but I have intended to bring him in the next chapter since the beginning. I was close to changing my plans, but instead I gave a whole chapter full of Erik. If he was in here, it would've ended with a cliff-hanger. And this way you'll get the next chapter sooner.

I'm going to Italy on 7th of June. Then I won't be back for about a month. I want to get ten chapters up before I leave. This way you will all have something to read and when I come back from Italy, I will have new chapters ready for you. I hope it's alright with you.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please leave me a review before you go!

AJNemo: Yes, I know it starts out a bit too slow. That's a bad habit of mine; all my stories tend to take time to actually get into the action. But I'm glad you still kept reading and that you like it. Thank you for you review and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

PS: I thought so too, that's why I put it there. :D

bobmcbobbob1: Yes, ffdotnet can be a pain in the ass when it goes into read-only mode… I'm glad that in the end you did manage to review, though.

I always imagined that when Erik did get out of his cellar, he would live in some manor far-far away from people. And that he would be so lonely there…

Now, about beta-ing. I would be very glad if you'd agree to do this. You see, I have lots of trouble with grammar, because English is not my first language and I haven't learned it for very long. So I guess that's what I need help with. And repetition, another great problem of mine. I tend to use the same word and phrases to often. Aaaaand it would also be nice to get some advice about the story itself. About whether things are flowing well or not, or if I use clichés… You know, that sort of stuff. Not much. Or actually, now that I re-read what I've written, it seems to be very much. But anyways, if you're still interested, tell me so and I'll e-mail you; or you can e-mail me at gottabelikeyou at hotmail dot com.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you for reviewing!

PS: I love your stories!

Captain Oblivious: Merci beaucoup pour ce commentaire. Malheureusement, je ne parle pas Français très bien. And that's why I'll switch to English from here.

I know my grammar is a bit… limping, shall we say? But I'll promise to work on it. And I'll try to avoid repetition. Je répète, merci beaucoup et j'espère tu plais ce chapitre.

Razzy: Thank you very much for your review. I'm very flattered that you like my ideas. I think maid's job was one of the few Christine could have taken, because for obvious reason, she doesn't want to sing. She was never a good dancer and I think that overall, she wouldn't want to go anywhere near an opera house. And there isn't very many other things she could do. The reason why I chose England is because it will be easier, with Erik being a composer and all that. The Paris Opera would never take any compositions from a masked composer, unless they knew for sure that he was safe.

Thanks again for your compliment and I hope you liked this chapter!

PS: I love your story!

Thank you for reading and please review!