Chapter 31- Changes

Christine was lying on her bed, listening to the sound of quiet all around her. She had tried to keep her mind blank, tried not to see Erik's' face, tried not the think about what she had done. The problem was that it was all so vivid, his scarring, his hurt and her guilt.

When she had arrived back at her room the mirror was slightly ajar but she left it as it was in the hope that Erik might visit her. She was not sure that he would though, not after what she had done. Antoinette Giry had somehow known she was back and came shortly after she had settled into the bed.

Her concern had been obvious, she told Christine that she looked incredibly tired.

That was when she had said, 'You know don't you, Madame Giry?'

Her Godmother had looked at her and nodded. 'I know some of it,'

'I saw...' she had swallowed, remembered the taste of the bile. 'His face...'

Madame Giry had blinked but given nothing else away. 'And?'

'It was awful,'

She had nodded, stood. 'He is good at heart,'

'I know,' Christine had said and she thought that she did. He was good, deep down he was good. She wanted to believe it, he was so gentle with her the night before, so kind and sweet.

'Then be careful with him,' the older woman had said. With that, she left.

Christine wondered if Erik had told Antoinette Giry that she was back. She wondered about this, about why Erik would say that they were no longer friends and then tell her that he had been with Christine.

She rested her head on her pillow and focused her eyes on the mirror. When a gloved hand curled around the edge and pulled it open a few hours later she did not even blink.

Erik stepped in and sat at the end of the bed without saying a word.

'What's wrong?' she asked, after a long silence.

He looked at her. 'Nothing,'

'You're quiet,'

'You need to learn the words for the lead role in Il Muto, you know a lot of it?' he asked, but for a moment she had to wonder if it was actually a question at all. His shadow stayed at the end of the bed, moved nothing but it's head.

'Yes,' she said.

'That is the new production as of Saturday,' he said.

'Will Carlotta not be the lead?' Christine asked.

'She will probably think she is,' he said. 'Don't worry, I will see to it that she is not but say nothing for now,'

'Don't hurt her, Erik,' Christine said.

The silence dropped into the room like a lead weight. She waited for his response and when none came she swallowed hard.

'Please...' she said, feeling the strain in her own voice.

After another moments silence, 'I won't,'

She shuddered.

'Are you cold?' he asked, looking at her.

'I'm fine,' she said.

'You shivered,'

'Because your words are cold sometimes,' she said. 'Not me,'

'I can't apologise for the way I am,' he said quietly.

'I will never ask you to,' she said.

'Is who I am good enough for you, Christine?' he asked softly. She was confused, she was afraid of him but not in the way some might have expected. She was afraid of what he might do to others but never afraid that he might hurt her.

Sometimes, she thought, he could be remarkably tender.

'Of course,' she answered his question.

'Are you sure?' he asked.

She frowned. 'Yes, I'm sure,'

'Because at some point it will come down to a choice,' he said.

'A choice of what?' she asked.

'Well,' he continued. 'Life is full of many choices but I have no doubt that there will be a choice about our relationship,'

She frowned but said nothing, she remained lying still, watching him doing nothing.

'What I mean is...' he sighed. 'You have seen where I live, you know what I have done. Christine, you are going to be very famous, very loved by many people,'

She nodded, not sure if what he was saying was right but liking the thought of it anyway.

'They will want to take you away from here,' he said. 'Possibly to Opera houses in Italy and America... then your choice will be your fame or me,'

She blinked away a tear, now she understood what he was saying.

'I'd like to think that it would give you pause for thought and that you would not make the decision too hastily,'

'Why are you saying this?' she asked, suddenly unable to hear anymore.

'Because I am trying to be honest with you,' he said. 'This is something that will happen to you, Christine, because you are wonderful,'

The blush attacked her face and she was glad that her room was dark.

'There will be suitors, other men, there will be other patrons and other managers in other opera houses,' Erik continued, staring ahead of him. 'There will be a lot of decisions for you to make and, in truth, you are so good that those decisions will not be too far in the future,'

'I care for you,' she said, feeling her heart sink. He was telling her that he would not go with her when she left, he was telling her that he would stay behind.

'Which will only make the decision that little bit more difficult,' he said. 'I care for you too, I have told you this before,'

'I know,'

'I don't want to see you leave,' he said. 'I think it best I make my position known now,'

She nodded. 'I understand,'

'I will not let you go without a fight,' he said. 'I will make it that simple. When I fight, I don't always do it cleanly. I will want you to stay, to be here with me, I will always battle for that,'

She remained silent.

'You can be famous and loyal,' he said. 'There should be no reason for you to leave and I will fight to make you stay,'

He stood, quickly but not sharply, it was like watching liquid move. The way he walked was quiet and smooth, almost a glide. He made his way to the mirror.

'What do I say to answer you?' Christine asked, not wanting to let him go without understanding.

He turned back to face her. 'You said you care for me,' he said. 'Should that not be answer enough?'

Antoinette had been surprised to see him.

Not shocked, but surprised.

He had been waiting for her backstage when she arrived into work that morning. So far it had been a highly eventful day after a fitful and sleepless night. After she had left Scott in the kitchen that morning she had made her way straight to the opera house. She did not know what to do about her situation at home, part of her was so desperate for her marriage she would almost do anything but there was another part of her that resented the time Scott had spent with Laurent.

Antoinette did not consider herself an unreasonable woman, a little stubborn perhaps, but not unreasonable. Her conversation with Scott would be considered as food for thought until a time came where she had to make a decision about it.

It had been bright and sunny when she had opened the door to the back of the Opera Populaire, she felt the warmth on her back disappear as the door closed behind her. By the time she reached the stage her spine was tingling, she felt distinctly uneasy, and she was cold.

There had been a brief confrontation with Joseph Buquet on the stage, one she did not care to think about too much and she had spent a few moments after this with the chorus.

When she finally brushed through the curtains to the backstage area she knew why she had been feeling so strange.

She did not see him when he spoke.

'Good Morning, Antoinette,' he had said, and his voice was unmistakable. She felt a shiver shoot down her back.

'Erik...' she had managed to say.

'Up here,' he said. Antoinette had looked up into the beams to see him sitting on one, legs hanging over the edge, white mask standing out from the shadows.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Lovely to see you too,' he had said, flirtation in his voice, as it so often had been with her.

She found herself smiling. 'My question still stands, Erik,' she said.

'I'm waiting for you,'

'Why?' she thought she had asked it too sharply but Erik did not pay any attention to her tone.

He shrugged. 'Christine is in her room,'

'Do I need to make sure that she is alright?'

'She is fine,' he had said, with barely a flicker of emotion. 'Tired,'

'I'm sure...'

He laughed. 'I have something for you,' he said. 'Catch,'

With that he took something from his pocket and dropped it down. She had reached out and caught it in her hands, it was a note with his seal on the back.

'Give it to the managers,' he said and stood on the beam. She always winced when he did this, was almost afraid to look in case he fell, she tried not to show it but it was always obvious that she was concerned.

'I'm fine,' he said, without looking at her. He jumped from one beam to another.

'I really wish you wouldn't do that,'

'I'm fine,'

She had nodded in response. There was no point arguing with him now just as there had been no point arguing with him when they were younger, when he cared about what she thought.

'What is all of this about, Erik?' she had heard the words before she even realised that she was speaking.

This made him turn back around to face her. 'What do you mean?'

'Making yourself known to the managers?' she said. 'Or Christine?'

'She is brilliant, Antoinette,' he said simply, giving nothing away, as usual.

'I know,' she had said softly. 'And beautiful,'

'Yes,'

'Do you love her?'

Erik did not move, he was so still she almost asked him if he was alright. 'Yes,' was all he said, before he leapt to another beam and then disappeared into blackness

That had been four hours ago, before she had briefly checked in to ensure that Christine was alright. Erik was honest, she was fine but tired, but Antoinette was not quite sure what she had expected. She worried for Christine, relationships, of any description with Erik were not healthy. He was a wonderfully gifted man, so strong yet so soft when he chose. He was a genius, no other description really sufficed. She knew only too well how easy it was to become swept up in him, lost in him.

Christine was so young, and had been through so much, that Antoinette was worried about what influence Erik might have on her.

Antoinette shook the thoughts from her mind and reminded her dancers to keep in time. They had begun rehearsals for Il Muto. Antoinette knew that Erik was, to some extent, testing them all. She had been surprised how easily the managers had been swayed into changing the production. They did not seem to know a great deal about the theatre.

It's a good job that she did... a good job that Erik did too. Lefevre had chosen Hannibal because it was something Carlotta had suggested, Antoinette knew that Erik would not have been very happy with this decision. He found Hannibal hollow in many respects.

His change to Il Muto was sudden but to her, not completely unexpected. The notes were a nice, if a little obsessive, touch. The managers had been wandering around rather perturbed, looking over their shoulders.

Surely two such intelligent men did not believe in ghosts.

She smiled to herself before calling a break.

'How is it going?' she turned around and smiled at Raoul.

'Not too badly,' she answered. 'They already know much of it, this is more of a recap, if you like,'

'It's a good job they do,' he said, sceptically.

'Indeed,' she said, holding his gaze.

'How would this ghost know they knew it?' he said.

'The ghost has been here for many years,' she said. 'I'm sorry Lefevre did not fill you in on the finer details,'

Raoul shrugged and smiled. 'I was just wondering...'

She nodded at him to continue.

'I was wondering if our ghost decides all of the shows,'

She shook her head. 'Not when Lefevre was here,'

'And now,'

'Well, Vicomte,' she said. 'Your managers do not appear to know very much at all about the arts,'

'And so he will make their decisions for them?' he asked.

'Perhaps,'

'He has on this occasion,'

'It will turn out to be a most positive move, I assure you, the show is perfect for this cast,' she said, with a smile.

'I hope so,' he said. 'My brother is not very happy about the changes, he is asking a lot of questions,'

She nodded. 'I see,' she said. 'Is he the decision maker?'

Raoul smiled again. 'As much as I hate to admit it,' he said. 'He tends to make a lot of the decisions,'

'I see,'

'I did my best to assure him that this is the best thing for the company,' he said. 'I don't think that he was entirely convinced,'

'Are you?'

'Am I convinced?' he said. 'Well, I trust your word, Madame Giry, you seem very level headed. Besides that I have been watching rehearsals and it does appear to be going well,'

'Perhaps if your brother was to spend a little more time here he would come to understand,'

'I think that's unlikely,' Raoul said, with a wry smile.

'That's a terrible shame,'

He nodded. 'I will speak to you later, Madame, have a lovely day,'