Oil on troubled waters (cont.)

That night Raoul was woken by Christine crying out. Her waters had broken.

"The baby — the baby is coming!" he exclaimed in alarm, and ran at once to call the midwife and the doctor. Dr Martin was less than pleased at being woken in the middle of the night, but he came at once, as did the midwife. When Raoul came back to Christine's room with the two of them, the chambermaid, Yvonne the nursemaid with a crying Marie in her arms, and Babette were already there — a shadow in the background showed that Erik was there also, though he preferred to remain in hiding.

"Ah, the doctor and the midwife," said Babette, who was in her nightdress with her hair down; then she took command like a general. "Yvonne, take that child away! Erik, take the father away! All men out of here — there's a baby coming!"

She slammed the door shut, and Raoul stood in the corridor outside his own bedroom, feeling absolutely superfluous. At that moment it dawned on him that he was wearing only a nightshirt. His trousers were in the closet.

"I wouldn't go back in there." Erik's voice came from behind him.

"But... my trousers..."

"You can have some of mine until they let you back in."

The Vicomte hadn't yet seen what Erik had done to his bedchamber. Now he saw that the three great dogs had evidently laid claim to the bed, but the room was otherwise in fairly good order. Several books purloined from Raoul's library lay on the table, along with a sketchpad and pencil. Erik opened an almost invisible door to the neighbouring room and came back with a pair of dark blue trousers.

"Try these," he suggested. "They'll be too long in any case, but they should fit otherwise."

Raoul had no choice but to put on the trousers. They were rather tight and far too long, and he had to turn up the bottoms of the legs several times in order not to trip over them. Now he saw that Erik himself was by no means neatly dressed; his shirt was buttoned up wrong and his shoes were untied.

"How many alterations are there here now that I don't know about?" he asked, trying to look disapproving — which would have been easier if he had not been so nervous.

"Only these," said Erik. "And a... hiding-place... in the cellar, and another in the attic."

"How did you get into Marie's room by night?" Raoul enquired further.

Erik laughed.

"It was MY nailing that fastened up the door. The wood is sound and firm, but no-one looked at the nails." He grinned. Even when he didn't intend it that way, his lipless grin appeared sneering and aggressive.

"How much longer will it take?" complained Raoul.

Erik looked at the clock. "No idea. It only started ten minutes ago."

He decided that they both needed to go out and get some fresh air. This proved not to be such a good idea, since the window was open and Raoul could hear Christine's cries.

"I can't bear it," he groaned. "I should never have put her through this!"

"But then you wouldn't have Marie either," Erik broke in. Confused, Raoul nodded.

They heard Christine cry out again, then the midwife shouting at the doctor and the other way round. Finally Babette yelled at both of them.

Now it was Erik who lost his nerve. "Oh God, something is going wrong up there..."

"What? What? What? What's going wrong?" the Vicomte shouted at him, gripping his arm so hard that now it was Erik who shouted back: "Ow! Let go — you're breaking my arm!"

Raoul didn't let go. Erik tried to free himself, carefully at first, but failed. He grabbed the Vicomte's throat with his free hand and squeezed in order to force him to release his grip. Raoul did let go, but feeling himself to be under attack he struck out. This was really too much for Erik to put up with, and within a short time the two of them were brawling like street urchins.

But this too turned out to be a bad idea, for they made enough noise that Christine, who at that moment was having a respite between her labour pains, could hear them up in the bedroom. "Babette, do me a favour and kill those two idiots for me," she groaned.

"No sooner said than done," responded Babette, and marched into the garden barefoot, in her nightdress and with her hair down, to give the pair a good ticking-off.

Erik was no longer taking the fight seriously by this point. The whole thing had become a game for him when he realised that while Raoul was young, strong and agile he hadn't the faintest idea of how to really hurt an opponent. He was just offering the boy the chance to let off some steam.

That was, at least, until he received a painful blow on the back of the head from someone who knew all too well how to inflict injury. Raoul received a corresponding blow at the same moment.

"Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?" cried Babette, and boxed both their ears; Erik and Raoul let go of one another and sat on the dew-damp grass in embarrassment. "Christine is labouring to bring a child into the world at this very minute, and all you can think of is fighting like guttersnipes?"

"Sorry," Erik mumbled. "It's a bit nerve-racking here..."

"Nerve-racking? Here? In the garden? It's all right for you — up there a woman is bringing a baby into the world! So go and thump each other somewhere else, where at least she won't have to know anything about it!" Babette raised her hand to deal out another couple of slaps, but Erik was faster and caught her arm.

"How's Christine?" begged Raoul. "What's happening up there at the moment? What's going on?"

"She's having a baby, that's what is going on," retorted Babette. "It's barely an hour since the pains started — it doesn't happen as fast as all that."

"But there was an argument," said Erik anxiously.

"Nothing worth mentioning. The midwife and Dr Martin weren't entirely in agreement, but I think everything's under control now save for you two idiots. Kindly go and get lost — but don't get under anyone's feet!"

The two of them took refuge in Raoul's study. Raoul tried to read a newspaper, but found he couldn't grasp a word. Erik took one of the paintings down and began fiddling with the safe that was hidden behind it.

"You won't get that open," muttered Raoul. A moment later there came a small click and the safe sprang open.

"Oh, I won't, won't I?" grinned Erik, shutting the safe again carefully. Then he took a piece of paper, folded it and gave it to Raoul. "Hide it somewhere. In your shirt, in your trousers, anywhere on your person. I'll look the other way."

Raoul put it into his trouser pocket. Then he looked at Erik expectantly. Erik sat down next to him and began to chat. He talked casually about how careful one had to be in Paris or one's wallet would be gone... and suddenly pressed the piece of paper into Raoul's hand.

"How did you do that?" Raoul wanted to know.

"Sleight of hand. Do you want to learn?"

"Not just now."

Erik summoned his dogs and decided to play with them in the garden. Raoul went with him, since he simply had no idea what else to do with himself.

Suddenly he asked: "Was it true, what you said yesterday?"

Erik flinched. "What do you mean?"

"In the summerhouse... I was eavesdropping on you and my wife."

Erik buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Oh no. What did you hear?"

"Everything," Raoul told him. "And I'm not angry with you for speaking to my wife. The content of the conversation was... very welcome. Tell me, is it true that you want to be my friend?"

Erik looked quietly at the Vicomte. Then he answered with a nod.

"In that case — although it's more proper for the elder to make the first move — you can call me Raoul," said the Vicomte, and held out his hand to Erik. Erik took it hesitantly. He was all at sea with the social conventions of how to progress to a more intimate acquaintance with someone.

For a while they simply threw sticks for the dogs. Then Babette, who had in the meantime found the opportunity to get dressed, called to them from the door. Her voice was loud enough to echo through the whole garden.

Raoul came running as fast as his feet would carry him. If he had not been so agitated, he might well have rejoiced that this time Erik was not able to keep up with him.

"How is she?" was his first question to Babette.

"Weak and exhausted, but otherwise well," came the reply. Babette was beaming all over her round face. "And the baby is healthy too."

But Raoul heard nothing more of her congratulations. He was running up the stairs, knocking things over and pushing people aside as he went without even noticing.

Erik remained at the door with Babette.

"There's no place for me up there," he said, and it sounded neither sad nor resigned, but more as if he had simply had enough of struggling against things which he could not change. "Tell me how she is — and the baby?"

"It's a boy, small but entirely healthy. And she is doing well too. It wasn't easy on her: the little one wanted to come so quickly that the doctor and midwife were at loggerheads, since he wanted to do things differently. But everything turned out all right in the end, thank God!"

Raoul burst into the room, and saw Christine with the baby in her arms. She looked happy. "It's a boy," she said joyfully, "and he looks just like you. See, he's even got your nose!"

Raoul couldn't see that the baby resembled him at all, but he could perceive very well that it was the most beautiful baby in the world... save perhaps for Marie.

This time they waited a week before letting Erik make the acquaintance of the baby. Erik came into the room and Marie rushed up to him at once. "Er! Er! Ma lala! Ma house all fall down!"

Which meant, more or less, that she wanted to play with him and knock down more towers of wooden blocks. Erik picked her up. "Yes, right away. I just want to meet your brother," he told her.

Marie was jealous. She was used to being the sole focus of attention, and now everyone wanted to see her brother. "Silly brother," she complained. "Er silly, Mama silly, Papa silly, Ma silly!"

"No, no, Marie, it's nice to have a brother. Come and look how sweet he is," Erik said, trying to calm her down.

"No!" insisted Marie, and hid her face in his shoulder.

"She'll soon get used to it," soothed Yvonne. "It's always like that with children."

Erik looked at the baby that Christine held in her arms. Tears suddenly came to his eyes. "He's wonderful. My congratulations, Madame, Monsieur. Look, Marie, you were that small once!"

Marie took a look at her brother and shook her head. "No, Ma not small!"

"Allow me to present — Christian Philippe Erique de Chagny," said Raoul proudly.

Erik stared at him. "Erique? You're giving him the name Erique as well?"

"That was... a compromise," said Raoul. "I didn't want to call him that, Christine wanted to call him Erik, and so we agreed on Christian Philippe Erique."

Erik stood as if turned to stone, until Marie stuck her finger into his nose-hole, laughing. "Ow, no, Marie, Erik doesn't like that!" he protested.

Christine couldn't help laughing. She had never seen until now how Marie found Erik's nose so fascinating that she was always trying to reach inside.

"I'm honoured," Erik told her. "Thank you. I don't know how I can thank you both."

"By taking care of a second godchild?" proposed Christine, and Raoul protested.

"We never discussed that! No, that's out of the question!"

"You said I could chose the godparents. And I want Erik: this time as a conscious decision, without any deception or lies."

Erik cleared his throat. "I don't think I'm very suitable..."

"No, neither do I," agreed Raoul.

"Then make an effort!" Christine said decisively. "Who said that he could do anything, if only he wanted to?"

Erik sighed. "I don't want to come between you yet again; I have spent far too long doing so already. I don't want you to quarrel on my account. Please — think again about this!"

"He has a point," Raoul conceded. "Well, the christening is next Sunday. Erik, will you stand as godfather? I'm certainly not going to quarrel with my wife over this; but if you cause any hurt to one of my children, then a disaster beyond your imagination will befall you!"

"Er lala!" demanded Marie impatiently, and beat with her little fists against Erik's shoulder. She had finally had enough of merely being held in his arms.

"Yes, yes, we'll go and play now — if your parents permit."