I rose early the next morning. I knew that until we left the Opera House it was dangerous for us to be aboveground but I also knew it would take Charles some time to get everything arranged, including a hotel for us to stay in until the wedding.
I left while Christine still slept and silently made my up the five levels. I stopped by the manager's office and found it empty. Satisfied that I was safe I made my way to the Rue Scribe entrance.
It was still dark outside as I emerged from the darkness of the Opera House. The streets were quiet and I quickly found a carriage and directed it to Charles' home. I paid the driver to wait and walked hesitantly to the front door. How many years had it been since I had arrived at someone's home, as if I were just like everyone else? I smiled somewhat cynically when I realised that the answer to that was never. My business dealings the past years had taken place in the darkness of the streets outside the Opera House. And I had never been one that was prone to dropping in on anyone for a visit.
I knocked on the heavy wood door, hoping that Charles himself would open the door. I tilted my hat down so the brim shadowed my face, and looked down.
The door swung open a moment later. It was Charles. I looked up.
"Monsieur Erik!" he gasped looking terrified. "What are you doing here?"
"Good day Monsieur," I said calmly. "I am sorry to bother you at home, but I have a rather urgent request and I was hoping you could help me."
Charles still looked aghast. "Of course, Monsieur. Is anything wrong?"
"Not at all, Charles," I said.
"W-would you like to come in?" he asked hesitantly.
The man was clearly terrified of me and I shook my head in regret. I had many things to make up for in my life.
I knew Charles had a wife and several children and did not want to impose on him. "No, but thank you. I will be quick," I said. "I must return quickly." I pulled a piece of paper from my jacket pocket and handed it to him. "I need you to purchase these items."
Charles glanced over the list and gave me a questioning look. "Pardon me, Monsieur, but I thought I had already purchased these things. Were they not acceptable?"
"No, no Charles. They were perfect. But some of the things accidentally got damaged."
Charles nodded. "I understand. I will get these things purchased."
"I also need you to set up the ceremony. Something small and as quickly as possible. Then I need for you to help me purchase a house. We would like something in the country. Money is no object. I want something nice and roomy. I trust your judgment."
Looking slightly overwhelmed Charles tucked the piece of paper into his pocket. "I am not certain how long this will take me," he said hesitantly.
"I understand. I have only a week before I need to move. I will need you to secure a hotel in the meantime."
"Certainly, Monsieur. It will be done."
"Thank you Charles. I will make certain you are reimbursed for your time," I said. "I will contact you in a week's time."
"Than you, Monsieur. And congratulations again," he said, still looking bewildered.
"Thank you, Charles," I said with a slight smile. Then I turned and walked back to the carriage and told the driver to return to the Opera House. Dawn was just breaking as he left me on the Rue Scribe.
Once back in the Opera House, as I made my way through the labyrinth I thought of the many things there were to do in the next week. The thought of what I was going to do, marrying Christine, moving away from the Opera House, was overwhelming. I had thought I would live out my life in the catacombs beneath the Opera House. Of course, the reality, being with Christine, seemed like a miracle.
When I walked through the archway into my chambers Christine was just emerging from her room. She smiled when she saw me. "Good morning, my love. Did you see Charles?"
I removed my gloves and cloak and hung them up. Then I walked to where she stood and kissed her softly on her forehead. "Good morning, Christine," I said. "Yes, I did speak to Charles. He will have a place for us to stay by next week."
"And the wedding?" Christine asked eagerly.
I smiled. "Hopefully he will have everything arranged by next week."
"Good," Christine said firmly, and then blushed slightly.
The week seemed to fly by in a flurry of activity. We packed what we could into trunks. After the devastation caused by the mob there was not much left to take, but we took what we could. The organ, sadly, would remain, being too large to move, besides which it was most likely too large to fit in a house. I would buy a piano, I decided. A large piano.
There were, it seemed, a million details to attend to. Christine's belongings were still in her flat. Though we had discussed staying there Christine had deemed it too dangerous. So we would move her belongings out when we moved to our house.
We made lists, made plans, and relished our time together. For the first time in my life I felt almost….normal.
When the week was up I sent word to Charles to meet us at midnight on the Rue Scribe. Once the Opera House was empty Christine and I began taking our things upstairs. By the time Charles arrived in a wagon as I had requested, we had everything from below.
I introduced Christine to Charles, who looked startled when he saw her. Whether it was because he had questioned her existence or whether he was simply surprised at her youth and beauty I do not know, and I did not care.
While Charles loaded our things into the wagon Christine and I went below one last time. We stood together in my chambers, which were mostly empty now. I had dismantled the organ and carefully placed the pieces in a vault hidden in one of the walls, along with other odds and ends that we had decided to leave, things that I could not bear the thought of the men destroying.
We looked around one last time. A thousand memories assaulted me. Memories of Christine. Memories of the Angel of Music, and the Phantom of the Opera. The Angel and the Phantom. They had been part of me for so long, but they existed no longer. Now I was Erik, just Erik. I felt I existed now only for Christine. She was my other half, the one that made me whole. She was light to my darkness.
Christine placed her hand lightly on mine and looked at me with troubled eyes.
"Is every thing all right?" she asked softly.
I smiled down at her. "Of course, my dear," I replied. "I was just lost in memories."
She smiled at me as I walked slowly from my chambers, from the only home that I had known for so many years. I felt a wave of sadness as I looked one last time at the high ceiling, at the archways, at the silver candelabra's and the mirrors.
Suddenly Christine stopped. "Erik, you forgot your music box," she said, motioning towards the Persian monkey.
I looked at it and thought of all it represented. My past, who I used to be.
"I do not want to take it," I said.
"Why not?" Christine asked.
"It belongs in the past, along with the Phantom and the Angel," I said, knowing she would understand what I meant.
She nodded and smiled at me. "Shall we go?"
"Of course, my love," I said and I took her arm as we walked away from my home beneath the Opera House. I poled the boat silently across the mirror black surface of the underground lake. I breathed deeply the scent of must and stone. When we reached the other side I sank the boat, completing the end of my old life. Christine watched with tears in her eyes but said nothing as we walked the five levels to the Opera House. Like silent shadows we skulked through the Opera one last time, saying good-bye to the past, welcoming the future. Christine cried quietly as we stood in the centre of her dressing room. She ran her hands lightly over the frame of the mirror, the mirror in which she had seen me for the first time. She smiled through her tears and took my hand as I led her to the Rue Scribe entrance.
Charles had loaded our few belongings into the wagon and had summoned a carriage. "I have found a house for you," he said as we emerged from the Opera House. He went on to describe it. A small chateau in the hills, surrounded by nature with no close neighbours. It had a large amount of land and yet was quite close to a small village, within a days travel.
"I only returned from there last night, Monsieur," Charles said. "I believe that it is perfect, just what you want. It has been on the market for some time, and the price is far beneath what it is worth. You could move in immediately."
I glanced down at Christine, who was smiling.
"What about the wedding plans?" I asked, my thoughts whirling.
"The dress will be ready in two days time," Charles replied. "I have spoken to the priest, he is available on Saturday."
Saturday, I thought. That was only three days.
"That is perfect," Christine spoke up when I remained silent. Her eyes were shining with amusement. No doubt I had a most befuddled look on my face.
"Yes, yes, that is fine, Charles," I said.
Charles gave us the details and told us when to meet him at the chapel. He then told us which hotel we were to stay at and gave us a key. "I am sorry Monsieur, I could not manage to get two rooms. But I spoke with my wife, Muriel, and she offered for Miss Daae to stay with us."
I looked down at Christine, who looked suddenly quite worried.
I understood, as I was feeling quite worried myself. My first instinct was to protest, for us to stay together. But I knew that I could not do that, not without ruining her reputation if anyone was ever to find out. She had been staying alone with me all of this time, true, but no one knew that, not for certain. But if we went together to the hotel Charles would know, and I could not do that to my dear Christine.
"Thank you, Charles. That will be perfect," I said, giving Christine an encouraging smile. "We will meet on Saturday, then, at the chapel. My dear," I said to Christine, "What do you say, after we are married we will go to the country, see the house and then we can make a decision."
Christine looked up at me, her eyes betraying carefully concealed panic. "Yes, Erik, that is fine. Can we speak alone?" she asked of Charles.
He bowed his head slightly. "Of course, Mademoiselle," he said and walked away.
"Erik! You are going to leave me?" she asked, her voice hushed.
"It is only for three days, my love," I replied, brushing a hand across her cheek. "Charles and his wife will treat you well. Then we will be married and we will find a home for us."
Christine looked unconvinced.
"I do not want to do anything to harm your reputation, my dear," I said.
Understanding dawned in her eyes and she sighed. "I will go with him, then," she said finally.
"It is only a few days, then we will be together."
"Forever," she said, with a little smile. "I will miss you."
"And I will miss you, Christine," I said, smiling down at her. I brushed a quick kiss across her cheek and then led her to Charles, who waited at the carriage.
"Thank you for everything, Charles," I said. I took his hand and shook it firmly. "I appreciate all you have done for me."
"You are welcome, Monsieur," he replied, and for the first time, smiled at me, as if we were equals, as if we were friends.
I climbed into the carriage, feeling an almost physical ache as Charles helped Christine onto the seat of the wagon. I did not want to leave her. It was only three days, I told myself firmly. Then we would be married.
The thought was enough to calm me. The carriage pulled away from the Paris Opera House and I watched it grow smaller as we drove further away from it. A rush of emotions overtook me and I cried silent tears as I watched the past disappear into the foggy Paris night.