This chapter is a bit different but hopefully it will make sense in the context of the story. Please read and review!
"Well, I don't care what you say, I think he's very handsome," Celine insisted as she crammed her brown curls under her hat.
"Honestly, Celine, he's old enough to be your father! Haven't you found anyone our age to fawn over yet?" Adele replied. The two of them were glad to be finishing their long shift in the costume department and were eager to get home for their dinner. Working in the Opera House had seemed like such an exciting prospect at first but it was turning out to be much harder than they had thought.
"I know, but he's the manager! Imagine being courted by the manager!"
"I don't think he's going to be interested in apprentice seamstresses like us," Adele told her wryly as they walked out of the room together and down the corridor.
"He doesn't have to be interested in us, just in me," Celine replied, blushing. The two of them giggled, attracting attention from a group of young stagehands who were passing by.
"Anyway," she continued, "He always seems so lonely. I wonder why he isn't married? At least I assume he isn't; he never wears a ring and I haven't heard anyone talk about a Madame Carriere yet." She sighed wistfully. "He seems so mysterious, doesn't he? I'd love to get to know him better and tell him that he doesn't have to be lonely any more."
Adele rolled her eyes. Her old school friend was a born romantic and there seemed to be no cure for it. She seemed determined to find out all she could about M. Carriere, a person Adele respected but did not have any romantic feelings for whatsoever. She was much more interested in boys her own age, of which there were plenty at the Opera House. At the entrance, they bid goodnight to their colleagues before setting off for the tram together as they usually did, but Celine would not be deterred from her favourite subject.
"I've heard this rumour about him and this young dancer who became a famous singer. She had an odd name, Bella something. Anyway, Frederique told me that they were…well..." Celine leaned in close to the other girl. "They were...lovers, long ago."
"Oh, I've heard that rumour myself. Her name was Belladora." Adele liked knowing more than anyone else and was already making it her business to find out all the gossip in the Opera House, even in the few weeks they had worked there.
"But there's more to it than that," Celine continued, determined not to be outdone, "Apparently they were madly in love, even after she became famous and then one day she disappeared. Ran away, just like that."
"Ran away? How did Frederique know that?"
""Somebody told her, I forget who, but he heard it from Jean Claude, and Jean Claude knows M. Carriere better than anyone. Frederique thinks she ran off to England with a wealthy earl. There are always lots of English earls and lords and things around the Opera House, you know, and she must have had lots of admirers. Maybe she didn't want to marry a poor stagehand?"
"But that's terrible."
"Yes it is, isn't it? And to make it worse, he heard a few years later that she had died, just after he became the manager, I think."
"Died? How?"
"I have no idea, but M. Carriere never got married and hasn't courted a lady since then. They say it's all because he's still in love with this Belladora person. I think it's so romantic…" Celine sighed again but her friend looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Maybe you should stop reading all those silly novels," she replied.
"I've just thought: maybe he wanted to become the manager to try and make himself worthy of her?" Celine persisted.
Much to Adele's relief, their tram pulled up at that very moment and as it was too busy for them to sit together she was spared any more of her friend's romantic speculations.
When they arrived for work the next morning, their overseer Madame Mercier was more brusque with them than usual and all the girls were trying to avoid her as much as possible. Frederique told them that a large quantity of costumes had gone missing during the night, mainly shirts, trousers and, most intriguingly, a cloak, and Madame was trying to place an order for material to replace them. Apparently M. Carriere had readily agreed to extend her budget and told her not to worry about it, that he would take care of everything. During their lunch hour the three girls bought sandwiches from a nearby stall and ate them in the park as they discussed this latest development.
"Well, they say it's the work of the ghost," Frederique told them, "The theft, I mean." She had been here three years and knew the vast building very well and all that went on in it, or at least, liked to think she did. The two girls listened in fascination as she told them about the ghost who haunted the catacombs beneath their feet and whom no-one had ever seen. Crying, singing, the sound of a violin, doors slamming... and now he seemed to be helping himself to costumes too. It all sounded very exciting to two sixteen year old girls and even Adele seemed to shed her usual shell of cynicism, which was a façade at the best of times anyway.
oOo
A few days later, when they were supposed to be heading for home, Adele quietly led her reluctant friend to a part of the Opera House they had never been in before, down a dark corridor with an unidentifiable smell. She stopped at a black door located under a dusty staircase.
"I don't think we're supposed to be here," Celine said uneasily, "What did you want to show me?"
"See this door here? It leads down to the catacombs!" she replied, "That's where this ghost lives, the fellow they call the Phantom of the Opera! I think we should go and find him, don't you? Just to say hello, and find out what he looks like."
"What? Go and find a ghost?"
"You're not scared are you?"
"N-no... but I don't think we should. What if he's dangerous? One of the girls told me that he's terribly disfigured, like a gargoyle or something, and if you look at his face, you die!" Celine turned very pale as she spoke.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, you can't die just by looking at someone's ugly face. If you could, I'd have died years ago from looking at Gaston."
"Your brother isn't ugly."
"Are you in love with him now, instead of M. Carriere?"
"No, I'm just... well, I just don't think it's a good idea, that's all. We could get lost, for a start. Or the candle could blow out."
Adele sighed. "We'll just go to the bottom of the steps and then if we don't see him or hear him, we'll come straight back up, I promise."
"I don't know…"
"Well if you won't come with me, I'll have to go by myself."
"No, don't do that! Adele, please, let's go home, this corridor is scaring me and it'll be getting dark soon…" She turned to walk away but her friend did not follow her. Instead she opened the door and peeped inside. "Adele, we need to go home, we'll be late for dinner!" she called, watching helplessly as the other girl stepped into the darkness and shut the door behind her.
I need to find help she thought frantically, hurrying away as fast as she could.
oOo
Adele held her candle aloft as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Below her she could see a stone staircase descending down into the catacombs and she tentatively placed her foot on the first one, as though she feared it would not bear her weight. Part of her wanted to turn back although she knew she could not be a coward in front of Celine, not after all her bravado.
As quietly as possible she made her way down the endless steps until eventually the floor beneath her became level, stretching out into a black void. Was this where he lived or was he in some other corner of this underground world? But if he was a ghost, surely he could travel anywhere? She looked around her, seeing only a stone wall on one side of her and on the other a couple of old chests, possibly once used to store costumes.
"Hello?" she called out, sounding braver than she actually felt. "Is anyone there?"
"Is anyone there…" came a reply off in the distance. She gasped. It's just an echo… she told herself Just an echo…
Her words echoed again, almost mocking her, but this time the sound came from behind her. And now it was to the left of her, and then behind her again. She swallowed and span around, trying to find the source. How is this happening?
"Wh-who are you?"
Her heart lurched as her words reverberated through the cavern again.
"Who are you…you…you…" Each word seemed to come from a different direction and from within the walls themselves. With a trembling hand she covered her mouth, terrified of uttering another word.
At that very moment a shadow appeared on the wall ahead of her, a shadow which was not her own. She stepped back with a shriek but there it remained, black and immobile. But that was not all. From a distance came the sound of scratching and squeaking, getting closer all the time. A shape came out of the darkness and she shrieked again, then turned and ran for the stairs.
oOo
Celine turned a corner, then another, trying to remember the way they had come and wishing the building was not quite so large. Down the corridor with the green door and the laundry baskets, turn left, or was it right? Somebody must still be here, someone who would know what to do. Turning another corner, she ran into a solid object, which turned out to be none other than Gerard Carriere himself.
"My goodness, what's the hurry?" he asked in astonishment. "Just a moment; you're from the costume department, aren't you? Haven't you left for home yet?"
"Oh M. Carriere… p-please help…"
"What is it?" he asked more gently, "What's happened?"
Hastily and with a trembling voice she poured out her story about how her friend had gone down below to find the Phantom. M. Carriere closed his eyes for a moment as though to gather his thoughts then asked her to show him the door in question immediately. She could hear him mutter under his breath as she retraced her steps and hoped he would not be angry with her for although she had dearly wanted to have a conversation with him alone, she had never dreamt it would be in these circumstances. As they reached the place, they could hear a voice shouting for help and the sound of footsteps running up the stone stairs. Suddenly the door sprang open and a distraught Adele burst through it, almost colliding with the manager who put his hands on her shoulders to stop her flight.
"Help me! Oh God, help me!"
"Adele, what is it? What did you see?" he asked, a note of panic in his voice. She struggled to get the words out. "Calm down, child, tell me what you saw…"
Breathlessly she blurted out her reply. "Rats… There's dozens of them down there… Rats…and the ghost…"
oOo
In the privacy of M. Carriere's office, a calmer Adele sipped on a glass of water and Celine looked at her with new eyes; her fearless friend was clearly not as fearless as she pretended to be.
"There was a shadow…" she told them quietly, "I definitely saw a shadow, before the rats came. And I think I heard his voice. It was like an echo, but it was him, I know it…"
The manager sipped on his own glass and offered them bombons from a jar he kept in a drawer, but they both refused politely. He sighed and sat back in his chair, apparently deep in thought, before addressing them.
"I need to apologise for not giving you this little chat beforehand but I was rather busy when you joined us a few weeks ago. However, I am told by Madame Mercier that you are good workers and have learned the ropes very quickly, which I am very happy about."
They glanced at each other uncertainly, not sure what was ahead.
He tapped his fingers on the desk, before seeming to think better of it and clasping his hands together instead. "You have obviously heard the rumours about our ghost and there is much you need to know about him. But it can be summarised in this way: "All you need to know is don't go down below.""
The girls smirked a little at this phrase but M. Carriere did not look amused.
"You know, I am aware that some of you think this phantom character is something of a joke, but I can assure you he is not." He sipped on his water again before getting up and walking around his desk, avoiding eye contact with them.
"He has the freedom of this entire building. He moves everywhere, he sees, hears and knows everything. When I first became the manager he spoke to me through the walls, congratulating me on my new role but warning me that he was the true director here. And now he has started stealing items from us. Props, food, clothes have gone missing in the last few years, never to be recovered. You must not make fun of him or underestimate his abilities. Believe me, I have tried to reason with him but he remains in charge here."
As he spoke, both girls could not help but notice the lines on his forehead and the flecks of grey in his dark hair. He sat again, and rubbed his temples, sighing a little. After a while he looked up and dismissed them both quietly, warning Adele once more that she should never venture down below again as she might not be so lucky this time.
Both of them thanked their employer then got up to leave, Adele with her head bowed in rare humility.
oOo
"Thank you for warning them," Erik said quietly as he stared into the fire, "She might have seen me if the rats hadn't scared her."
"No-one will ever find you, I promise you that. But I'm not happy with this latest development, Erik. If you need more clothes, why didn't you just tell me? I'm more than happy to provide you with whatever you need, you know that."
"Yes, but why should I have to depend on you for everything?" He got up with a swirl of his new cloak and walked around, already a tall, imposing figure although he was not yet sixteen.
"Just try not to take so many things all at once, that's all I'm saying," Gerard replied, "You're a popular topic of conversation but they can only take so much…borrowing."
Erik sighed. "All right, I'll ask you the next time. And are you sure this Adele, or whatever her name is, won't come back down here again?"
"Quite sure, not as long as there are rats living down here anyway. Not to mention that convenient echo." He eyed Erik suspiciously but he was intent on avoiding his "uncle's" gaze. "Anyway, she'll remember tonight for a long time. But I was thinking…perhaps I could send her a note?"
"A note?"
"It would be from you in theory, of course, but I can write and deliver it. Just something to remind her that that this is your realm and yours alone."
"A note from the ghost… I like the sound of that."
"I'll see to it first thing in the morning. It'll give them all something to talk about in the costume department, that's for sure. It's amazing how the gossips can spread rumours about you better than I can."
Erik watched as his uncle got up to prepare for bed, wondering why he was doing all this for him. But he also knew that without the help of this well-meaning guardian, he would have been discovered by now and he felt a surge of gratitude. Going over to the bookshelf he located the old book about ventriloquism that he had been studying every night, to give himself a respite from music. Who needed bookshops when the Opera House was home to such a variety of interesting books? It was turning out to be a very enjoyable hobby and one that he could have plenty of fun with.
And in the privacy of his bedroom Gerard knew exactly what book his son was reading at that moment for it was the same one he had been looking at for the past few weeks when he believed himself to be alone. Likewise, he knew that the voice Adele heard was no echo, and he wondered about this latest skill and where it would lead to. As he heard Erik get ready for bed, he thought about how comfortable his son was here in these dark caverns and how readily he had accepted them as his entire world. And all Gerard's thoughts were leading him to one inescapable conclusion.
His time here in the phantom's lair was coming to an end.