Chapter Seven

The Morning Post

The day that Madame Giry received the morning post was a surprise to everyone. There was no mail ever delivered to the house that the three women were currently residing in and so when a knock came to the door everyone was shocked.

Madame Giry opened the door with a calm almost knowing air, because after all she was expecting a letter from Erik. He had been down at the cottage for two whole weeks now and had told her it wouldn't take longer then a week and a half.

Madame Giry wished he would hurry because Christine was slowly but surely falling back into her old ways. She was eating less and less and despite the fact that the weather was on the enjoyable side she refused to go for walks or get fresh air.

She sat on the chaise in the sitting room and didn't move or speak; often she would stare off into nothing and seemed to be lost in thought. Meg would try to keep her spirits up, bring her back to the happy personality she had when she had received the dress from Erik but even bringing that up now only seemed to make things worse.

A mail boy who handed over two pieces of mail greeted Madame Giry. She nodded her thanks and handed him one Franc, at which the boy smiled and ran off. She turned and came into the kitchen where she set the first letter down and opened the second.

Dear Nettie,

I must apologize for the amount of time it has taken to prepare the cottage for your arrival. I did not take into consideration the fact that the house has stood empty for so long. I have prepared four rooms and arrange most of the house in a clean and satisfying way. You may come as soon as you are able and give my regards to little Meg and of course Christine.

As an after thought I must inform you that I was most graciously invited to the return party your neighbors are planning seven times by the little boy who lives down the road. Apparently he spoke rather highly of me after we meet to your neighbors and they insist that I attend. I am unsure what path to take and would be very grateful if we could discuss this matter when you arrive.

Forever your obedient servant,

Erik

Madame Giry smiled; Erik had met Philip, how interesting. "Girls! Girls please come here!"

Meg came into the room with a large curious smile, Christine followed with a blank face, which might have been construed as curious if her eyes had not been red and puffy.

"Erik has sent a letter, we can make our way out to the country. Please go and pack your things." Meg squealed and jumped from the room in excitement, but Christine just stood there frozen.

"We are going to him them?" Christine asked in a wavering voice.

"Of course, you knew this was the plan, why act so surprised?" Madame Giry asked.

"It's just so sudden. I do not know if I can face him."

Perhaps this had been the cause of Christine's self-deprivation, she was anxious about being reunited with Erik. The man had already talked to her once, what else could be said? Perhaps there was so much that had not been said that she feared the eventual talk that was to come?

"Child, you cannot run away from every problem life throws at you. As I have said before, you have been through many horrible things but in the end it is how you choose to use these experiences that counts. When you face Erik again you must do so with a strong resolve and an unfaltering will, remember he is just a man. Now, go pack your things." Madame Giry gently pushed her out the door and then turned to the next letter.

She opened it quickly and her eyes scanned over the words,

Madame Giry,

I have already sent you three letters and have yet to hear back from you about whether or not my wife has taken up residency with you. I suggest you write back, less I should have to come looking for her. Please send a letter and inform me of her current personality and how she is faring.

Sincerely,

The Vicomte de Changy

Madame Giry sighed, she had no choice, she couldn't put it off anymore. She had received four letters all together and each one seemed to get shorter and much more aggressive. She searched for a quill and ink and some paper and sat down in hopes she could lie in print as well as she could in person.

To the Vicomte de Changy,

Vicomte, your wife is with me and I must say she was not at all well when she first came to me. She has been doing much better but I cannot at all say that your fancy doctors have done much for her. She is currently healing and resting with my daughter Meg and I.

I suggest you do not come, nor should you approach in any way shape or form. Christine does not wish to see you right now and I will not force such an exhausting expedition on her. We will be making a move out to the country soon to further Christine's wellness and I ask that if you must write letters that you write them only to me. Christine is not in any position to be speaking with you or anyone else.

Kindest Regards,

Madame Antoinette Giry

She read it over and over to make sure it sounded like she was furious with the condition Christine was in when the girl had come to her. She also wanted to make sure it was clear that Raoul was not to try and contact her. Until Madame Giry knew what Christine's intentions were she did not want the girl to have to try and grapple with confused feelings.

She wrapped the letter and sent it off with the carriage driver; he was to take it to the first mail boy he saw and then return. Oh what would become of them all?

Erik watched as the familiar carriage arrived with three women inside. He stared out the window looking for Christine's face; unfortunately he only saw Meg and her mother. He turned quickly and crossed his dark room to the desk.

Scooping up his mask and over coat in seconds he put them on with haste and quickly left his room, he locked the door behind him and headed for the stairs.

As he heard the woman's carriage pull up he opened the door and stepped away from it, merging into a dark corner of the house to make sure the carriage driver would not see him.

Erik had been having Meg keep the driver well paid, whether or not the driver knew of Erik's existence he didn't want to leave anything to chance. If the carriage driver were still writing home to Raoul then everything Erik had been doing the past few weeks would be for nothing.

He watched as first Madame Giry, then Meg and Finally Christine crossed the threshold of the house and set their bags down.

"The door was left wide open." Meg said with worry.

"Do not worry, that is Erik's way of welcoming us. Not to mention he needs to stay out of sight until we all settle in and figure out the matters of this family."

"Family?" Christine asked softly. Erik felt his heart flutter, her voice was so beautiful, and it still stung him to think she hadn't been practicing.

"You are part of this family child, whether you wish to be or not. I assume though since you showed up asking for our help you do not mind the prospect so much?"

Christine shook her head and sighed, "Now that we are here perhaps we should find our rooms and then go and rest."

"You are always so tired Christine. A long time ago you would have begged mother to let us go off on an adventure." Meg said taking her and Christine's bag.

"A long time ago I was young, naïve and actually had the energy for such things."

"You'd have the energy if you would just eat something." Meg snapped unnecessarily.

"Girls hush. You sound just like a pair of children. Now go find your rooms and then return to help me with supper, do not delay."

The two girls nodded and headed up the stairs, "I assume the bedrooms are upstairs?" Came a soft voice.

"I would think so." Meg said with a sigh.

"Nettie… how is she?" Erik asked emerging from the darkness.

"She is doing no better then when she first arrived. I thought her brush with death would bring her back to life but I fear it had no effect on her."

"Will she sing for the McBride's?" Erik asked.

"I doubt it. Her voice is to weak and her confidence is shattered." Madame Giry said with a sad tone.

Erik shook his head and looked down, "My angel has fallen from grace."

"Perhaps you could…"

"No. I will not force my music on her again. Not unless she should ask for it. The last time I tried to force myself and my music upon her she ended up leaving me."

"This is different Erik… she needs the music, she is going to die with out it. You do not understand, her reasons for not running back to you are confusing at best but you could still have her yet if you could just show her you care."

Erik looked at her with venom, "I care for her more then I have ever cared for anyone else, but she spurned me once and I almost died. I will never face her damnation again."

Erik swiftly moved passed her and headed up the stairs towards his room, as he rounded the corner Christine ran right into him. She fell back and Erik looked down at her with surprise.

They did not speak; they looked at each other, and Christine's eyes wide and shocked, Erik's eyes narrow and sharp. Erik reached out a gloved hand to her and she looked at it, she raised her shaky hand and carefully took his. He helped her to stand and their eyes locked again. Silence passed between them but neither could look away, "Erik…" she whispered softly. She came closer to him, almost as if she planned to kiss him. Erik saw the look in her eye and recognized it, he instantly pulled back and moved passed her.

It was like a vale was lifted from before her eyes, she could think clearly again. She watched him storm down the hall and unlock his door. He did not glance at her again as the door slammed with a resounding thud.

Erik paced his room with a nervous anxiety. Christine had looked like she was about to kiss him, why had she so suddenly and out of the blue appeared to be interested? Or perhaps her interest was not something to be taken so seriously.

Something was wrong with her, one minute she was terrified of him, the next she seemed to be melting into his eyes. He needed to be able to talk to her, he needed to be alone with her. But that was impossible, not with Nettie and little Meg around.

He sighed as he removed his mask and over coat, the three women would be preparing dinner and now Erik had to decide if he wanted to eat in his room or down at the table with the others. How strange would that be, long ago Erik had longed to share a table with Christine, break bread and speak to each other like lovers did over dinners of exquisite taste.

But this was not how he expected it to be, nor how he hoped it would be. So much had changed and yet so much had stayed the same. He sighed and crossed to the large oak table he had placed in his bedroom. He sat down and turned to admire his room.

Blacks and reds with cark wood surrounded him, a room that was meant for him. He could feel his own soul in every corner of this room. From the large canopy with black lace curtains to the large fire place which cast the dancing light of the fire that blazed in it. How could he ever hope to mix his black lace with Christine's white lace?

He sighed and turned to his music, after everything, after all these years the music had still not returned to him. Where he had once been able to write music with hopes that Christine would be able to sing it for him, now he had nothing and no one to write for.

No one but she understood his music, no one but her understood and felt the music as he did. It was part of her soul, part of her being just like it was his and yet somehow she resisted the music's call. How did she turn her back so easily? Even now Erik longed to feel it coursing through his veins, pulsing like seductive venom through his core. His heart beating in tune with it, his soul dancing the dark waltz of the music of the night.

Could he win her back with the music? Could he use her desire to escape from the music against her? Could he show her that she belonged to the music, and the music belonged to her and that she couldn't let someone like Raoul destroy such a beautiful gift?

Suddenly Erik's aching heart seemed to grow strong, he picked up the violin which rested next to the table and placed it against his neck, his shaky hand raised the bow and lay it like a gentle kiss across the strings, "Come back to me music, bring her back to me! Cast your seductive spell and let her hear you! Let her hear us! Let her come to us and become one." He said in a desperate whisper.

He pulled the bow across the strings and one solid silver note escaped from the beautiful instrument. Erik imagined it was Christine's voice, he imagined she was singing to him. He coaxed another long beautiful note out of the violin and suddenly felt something he hadn't in years.

It was like Christine's presence had given him the power to recall the music; his desire to bring her back to him had fueled his craving to create music. He could feel the energy and music surging through every muscle every layer of his being.

He kept playing and his few notes turned into many, he cut them short or stretched them out into a song he had never even heard before. It was like the music possessed him. It was like he couldn't control himself or what he played, but he could feel everything that had been within him the last few years pouring out into this crescendo of beauty, this song which perfectly emulated himself and how he felt and what he wanted and who he dreamed of and how amazing it all felt!

Finally with his fingers bleeding, his heart weeping, his brow sweating like he had just ran miles upon miles, he held out one final note to end this beautiful masterpiece he had created. He gasped as the note faded and silence followed. It closed in on him and he felt the embrace of his music disappear.

"Please don't leave me." He barely whispered as he felt himself crumple from the chair. He was so weak, so tired, he had been drained and left cold and alone.

"I must remember what I played…" Erik stuttered as he forced his shaky body to get up. He forced himself back into the chair and pulled out a piece of cloth, he cleaned his bloody fingers and wiped his sweaty brow and began to feverishly write.

Christine pulled her ear away from the door, the violin had stopped and she felt her heart stop. Was Erik dead? She wasn't sure she could even doubt that possibility. She had never heard him put so much of his soul into his music, even when she had been studying under him. He had just given himself over to the music completely and allowed it to take him up and drink from his being.

After something like that he could be in danger, she turned the knob carefully only to find the door locked. She cursed in French and turned to go but found herself stopping when the door clicked and then swung open.

Erik leaned against the door leering at her, "Does Madame de Changy need something?" his voice was like acid as it stung her and made her shiver.

"I heard… I mean…. I…" she stared at the mask face of the man who had caused her so much trouble and suddenly, as if this had always been a thought in the back of her mind that had just popped into her thoughts, she couldn't even believe she was staring at the same man.

His eyes looked upon her with cold animosity, his sneer showed how little he really cared. Any desire to ever be close to her had vanished from his face and she felt like she was a most unwelcomed presence in this house. She felt tears well up and she turned, "Dinner is ready."

Every step she took away from him pained her beyond anything she could imagine. That music, that song he had played on the violin had drawn her upstairs, had brought from her soul something she herself had thought lay dormant or dead.

It was like life was being pumped into her body, it was like her heart was beating again. That music, that heavenly music, she had once been able to create music like that. Her voice had been compared to that of angels, she had been considered a prodigy. Though Christine knew the truth, she was none of those things, not an angel not a musical genius.

It was Erik who had the power, the strength, and the ability to turn heads with his music. Christine had just leeched her gifts off of him. At the bottom of the stairs she turned to look up them and felt a tear run down her face. She wasn't hungry anymore; she walked to the front door and left with out a word.

Madame Giry had been right; it was almost impossible to live with her self now that she had made her choices. Could Christine really look back on all her choices and say they were the right ones?

Christine wasn't sure where she was walking but she let her feet lead and she hoped she would end up somewhere nice. The lawns of this large house were spread out like a maze. Christne had no idea that Madame Giry's family was so…. Rich?

What did it matter really? Money was money; Christine had always been poor until Raoul came along. She didn't mind sleeping in haystacks or traveling until you were so tired that sleeping in a tree was like sleeping in a bed of feathers.

She walked far from the house, far away from anything ugly and nasty. She wanted to escape from these feelings she could not name, and she wanted to name the feelings she couldn't seem to escape.

One was fear, and of course one was guilt. But fear of what? And guilt for what? Guilt for leaving Raoul, or for losing the child, was it for leaving Erik? Was it guilt for everything she had become while she was playing the little wife to some boring aristocratic family?

Suddenly the answer came to her, "I feel guilty for everything." She whispered.

"It's all my fault." She felt her legs give out, her cloak fluttered out about her as she cried out everything that she had been trying to keep in.

"It is all my fault, I have hurt everyone including myself. I understand now…"

"Understand what?" came a soft voice from behind. Christine turned to see Meg and she softly smiled, "Oh Meg." The little blonde girl crossed to her tearful friend and pulled her close for a hug.

"I've ruined everything. I've hurt everyone, I've been so guilty and I never understood why. But I suddenly do understand. I heard Erik playing his music and it all came to me. When he played that music I felt my spirit come back to life, I felt my desire to sing and my desire to live become clear from all the other things that had been pulling me to a quick death. I know why I feel so awful all the time."

"Why? Why have you been torturing yourself for the past three years?"

Christine pulled away from her friend and wiped her face clean, "I asked Erik for everything and he gave it to me. I betrayed the man who inspired my voice. I went home with Raoul only to find out that the gift he had given me was going to fade with the rest of my personality that I couldn't share with anyone. I hadn't a friend in the world and I was so lonely. And then the child… Meg the child I lost that tore me up for so long… I know why it bothered me so much."

Meg eyed her carefully, she hadn't been aware that Christine had lost a baby. Perhaps that was something that Christine had told Madame Giry.

"I didn't want to admit it to myself, in fact I went out of my way to deny it. But when Erik let me go with Raoul I saw the beauty in him, I saw the mercy and pity. I knew that I had to give him something for granting me my freedom. He came to me one night to say good bye and I gave myself to him Meg. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced and that night Meg I know he left me with child. It's been slowly killing me to deny the fact that the first child I ever carried was the man who gave me everything and has never received anything. When I lost the child Meg… I felt the last piece of Erik that I had close to me had been lost. I thought I would never see Erik again and the one thing I thought that would allow me to remember him, to honor him as the teacher he was is to raise his son and love him like he deserved, like his father deserved. When that child died I felt like the only part of Erik I had in me died too. And Meg, oh how guilty I felt having been unable to bring his greatest work to fruition! I lost Erik's child and it's all my fault."

Meg hushed Christine as she sobbed into her friends dress, "I am wretched, I owed him that at least! I would have loved his child more then anyone, I would have given that child everything he could ever want. I would have given him the love I couldn't give to Erik. I failed."

Meg gently ran her fingers through Christine's thick hair and tried to hush her and calm her. "Christine, the loss of a child is not anyone's fault. You couldn't have stopped it anymore then you could stop a disease from spreading or stop war from happening. But you took the next step. You were unhappy with Raoul and so you left. You are here now with your family… mother and I won't ever left anything happen to you."

"But Erik… he looks at me with disgust… he must know what happened! He must know how I failed him! How I killed his child!"

"Christine! You must listen to me; you did not kill his child. You tried to give Erik's child life and he just wasn't strong enough to make it. That is NOT now nor will it EVER be your fault. You are a strong woman Christine, you must not let your mind play tricks on you like this."

"But Meg, I lost so much. I can't bare to think of telling Erik the truth… he will be consumed by rage! He may kill me!"

Meg suddenly slapped Christine across the face and the girl drew back in shock, "Now listen to me Christine, I have already told you before Erik has left those murderous habits behind. He is a new man now and would never kill someone unless they presented a threat to him or his family. Erik loves you; he always has and always will. But you must remember that you broke his heart, you turned your back on him. You also turned your back on his music… when was the last time you sang?"

Christine once again wiped her face clean and cleared her throat, she thought a moment and then sighed, "I can't remember."

"You've allowed others to take what Erik spent so much time instilling into you to dismiss everything he ever taught you. You dismissed the music, your abilities, what you really want just so you could hold up the appearance of a good wife. If anything Erik feels like he failed you because his teachings weren't strong enough to allow you to continue what you loved doing. You couldn't stand by your desires with out Erik there to guide you. You left him to quickly… but perhaps it isn't to late." Meg said.

Christine looked at her friend strangely, "What do you mean?"

"Go to Erik… tell him EVERYTHING, and then beg him to take you back as his student."

"What? I can't do that! I could never ask him to take me back as his student! He would not even hear of it!" Christine gasped standing up.

"Why not? Erik has always been fond of you; even before he fell in love with you he thought you were a silly little girl. What is so wrong with going back to relearn what you forgot?"

"Erik won't do it. He has nothing to gain, nothing to hope to achieve. And what if he falls in love with me again? I am married."

"You left your husband and as of right now had no intention of returning correct? Well would life with Erik be so bad? You want a life of music and Erik is the music."

"Meg…"

"No Christine, listen, in three days the dinner party at the McBride's is to take place. You spend the next three days reflecting on this conversation, you figure out exactly what you want out of this life. And then at the dinner party you will confront Erik and tell him what ever it is you need to tell him. No matter what it is. And then if you feel like you need to leave and go back to Raoul or just leave and go someplace else I will make sure no one tries to stop you."

Christine stared at her friend a moment and seemed to be debating the words her friend had just spoke. And then she took a deep breath to try and steady herself, she looked to her friend and then gave a small smile, "Three days to decide the fate of my future… how wonderful."

Meg smiled and took her friends hand and led her back towards the house, neither one knew what would happen in the next three days but surely something good would come out of all of this. It just had to, because everyone deserved to have something good happen to them… right?

A/n: Let me know what you thought! R&R