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Forget Me Not	By : spikesbint Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 12354 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N I have called Madame Giry Angelique in my story, although I have seen other names used. The opera mentioned in this chapter is what is now known as Don Carlo, in the 1880’s period it was known as Don Carlos. There’s a useless but of trivia for you. This is my last update for a while. I worked to get this finished as I fly off to California tomorrow for a holiday

Remembering
Chapter 9

Madame Giry had watched Christine’s audition from the back of the theatre. Her charge had grown in her talent, which surprised her considering the neglect she knew her voice had suffered during her marriage to the Vicomte. Mme Giry had liked Raoul, but he had seemed to wrap Christine in cotton wool, not wanting her to be touched by the world. The animation in her face as she had sung her heart out had been evident. She belonged on the stage, performing was in her blood.

She sighed heavily, the weight of having heard the conversation between Andre and Erik was still ringing in her ears. At first, she had been too shocked to see the manager talking to Erik without his having an apoplexy in his presence. It had soon become apparent that they were plotting something involving Christine.

All she had managed to glean from the few words that had passed between them was that Christine was doomed to fail before she started. To what ends Erik wanted her be unsuccessful was still a mystery to her. All these years, Madame Giry realised it had been the keeping of secrets that she’d missed the least. There had been thirteen years of nothing to hide, but with a few spoken words that had all changed and she was back to keeping Erik’s secrets once more. She loved Christine like a daughter, but Erik was hers in a different way altogether. She had made him her responsibility from the moment she had saved him from the mob that had chased them through the streets of Paris.

She shook her head sadly, would Erik never learn? He had used clever tricks to try to get his own way last time. Christine was going to be implacable if she found out his lies. However, she would not find out from her. Too long had she been protecting Erik to change her ways now. She turned and made her way back to the dorms. The young girls had been without a ballet mistress for too long and it was obvious that they had run rings around Collette during her absence.

As she made her way across the polished floor of the foyer, she was surprised to see Erik striding towards her.

“Where is Christine?” she asked him.

“She left her purse in the dressing room. She will be with us presently, I am to hail a carriage for us to return to Meg’s apartment,” He informed her.

“A word if you please before you leave, Erik,” said Madame Giry.

“Make it quick,” he said, a slight edge of irritation creeping into his voice.

“What was your conversation with Firmin all about?” she asked, getting straight to the bones of the matter.

“So you heard us?” Erik smiled dryly. “You were almost as adept as I for creeping around this pile of bricks. I had forgotten that,”

“When you are in charge of so many girls, it helps to have eyes in the back of your head. Still you digress,” Madame Giry tapped her cane impatiently on the marble floor.

“You know I have made good in America Madame, I have only helped fate along. Christine is to accompany me to the states where she shall be the principle singer at my opera house,”

Madame Giry looked him up and down. “What exactly do you mean by your opera house?”

“I part own the new Metropolitan opera house in New York. Maybe you have heard of it?”

Madame Giry nodded and Erik continued.

“My days as an opera ghost are long since past. I have found a place in the world for one like me. I will take care of Christine with my life if needs be. Her heart is safe with me,”

“What of her virtue?”

“She is a mature widow of twenty nine years. Quite old enough to make her own decisions,”

“Except, for the decisions that you made for her?”

“Touché Angelique. One thing is for certain, your tongue has not softened with time,”

“And you are right, she is no longer a girl, but when my husband died I did a few things of which I am ashamed.”

Erik arched an eyebrow trying to imagine what this woman as starched as her black dress could possibly mean. He sighed as he looked upon his rescuer. It was very hard to forget that he owed this woman his very life and she had been the first person to show him any human kindness. Although, at times he had wished that she had left him to his fate.

“Tell her Erik, or lose her,” Madame Giry said warningly.

“I will tell her the truth I promise, but not until we are in America. I lost her once; I could not do it twice. Try to understand,” he asked.

“Christine,” said Madame Giry as she watched the woman approach them.

“Erik?” came a voice behind him.

He shook off his thoughts as he watched Christine walk across the foyer. A radiant smile graced her face, her tears long since dried. Madame Giry did not miss the passion that lit Erik’s eyes or the returned warmth in Christine’s as they looked at each other.

“The carriage should be waiting for us Christine, best leave before we are seen by the managers. Good day Madame.” He nodded at Mme Giry, before leading Christine away.

She watched the lovers walk off together out into the daylight. Madame Giry stood alone in the doorway for several moments in contemplative silence before she left to go about her duties.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Two Days Later

“So you are to leave us once more?” sighed Meg. “Just when I had hoped we could renew our friendship. I do not begrudge you this chance Christine. I think there are too many ghosts for you in Paris now. I meant that figuratively by the way,” she smiled ruefully, glancing at her friend as she sat across from her at the dining table.

“Hmmm,” replied Christine vaguely.

“You have been in another world these past few days. Won’t you at least tell me why?”

Christine looked at Meg and blushed. “You might judge me. I have done something of which I ought to be ashamed, but I find that I am not. Does that make me brazen?”

Meg smiled. “Well that depends on the nature of the matter. You haven’t killed anyone or robbed Lazard’s?”

“No…I…I…we…”

“Come on Christine just say it. I promise you that you will feel better when you do,”

Christine took a deep breath. “Erik and I are lovers,”

Meg chuckled.

“Well aren’t you shocked?” asked Christine, finding no humour in the situation.

“I might be if it were not for the other night. Luc and I came home early. We saw you,”

Christine’s face flushed almost scarlet. “You saw us…”

“Calm down. You were sleeping at the time, nothing more.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Christine.

“I knew you would tell me when you were ready. Meg’s face turned serious. “Are you sure that you are doing the right thing?”

“Do you mean my relationship with Erik or the move to another country?”

“A little of both maybe…Christine the attraction between yourself and the Phantom has always been a strong one, but you are still grieving.”

Christine looked at Meg sadly. “I cannot explain it to you, but being with Erik…it just felt so right. I loved Raoul, you know that, but to my shame, Erik was never far from my thoughts during our marriage. Even though I believed him dead, it was as if he was still with me, like a part of my soul. A connection that strong, so internal, even death cannot break it. I was a young girl back then. If I knew then what I know and understand now, I might have chosen a different path. However, Erik took the choice for me and demanded that I leave him that night beneath the opera house. For whatever reason, fate has dealt us both a second chance.”

Meg smiled, reassured by Christine’s words. “Then I wish you both happy,”

“Thank you Meg, your approval means a lot to me as well as your good opinion. In answer to the second part of your question…well there is nothing here for me anymore, except you and Mother Giry. As dear as you both are to me, you have your own lives to lead.”

“I have always been a little envious of you Christine,” admitted Meg on a sigh.

“How so?” she asked in surprise.

“You have had two men that would die for you. I don’t seem to bring out the chivalrous side in my men.”

“What about Luc? He seems very much taken with you,”

“He doesn’t want marriage. When that time comes, his father will provide a suitable young wife. I am too long in the tooth.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous you still look no more than twenty!”

Meg laughed. “That may be, but my girlhood dreams are still starting to fade around the edges a little now,”

“Then why don’t come with me to America? Your mother could come too,” said Christine.

“Oh, no I couldn’t, we couldn’t,”

Christine got up from the table, walked over to Meg, and took her hands in her own. “What’s stopping you? You said yourself there is little to hold you here. Erik has offered to pay passage for me and anyone else I wish to take with me. Maybe you will find what you are looking for there. Take a chance Meg,”

“I don’t know. I need to think about it…there is Maman to consider. Oh hang it, I have had enough of being rich men’s playthings…I’ll go!”

Christine pulled Meg to her feet and caught her in a tight embrace. They pulled apart, both of them their eyes shining with tears.

“I will ask Erik if the position of ballet mistress has been filled yet before you talk to your mother. Do you think she will come with us?”

“Oh, once mother knows I am to go to New York she will insist on coming, just to keep an eye on me,” laughed Meg.

“I am to have all my family with me,” said Christine. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and frowned. “Oh I mustn’t make a mess of myself; Erik is calling to take me to the opera tonight. He assures me that he got an agent to buy our seats and that if we arrive in plenty of time, he will avoid detection,”

Meg frowned at her words.

“This reminds me, there is something I need to tell you…” The clock on the hearth struck the hour. Meg looked at Christine horrified, all thoughts of what she had wanted to say, fleeing from her mind. “I will be late for rehearsals!”

“Best hurry then would not want Andre to have a seizure,” said Christine, as she walked off to her bedroom. “And do not worry about me Meg. Having any kind of relationship with Erik that is conducted above ground has to be of the good,” she threw a grin over her shoulder before closing the bedroom door behind her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The lights were lowered and the audience was almost silent in its anticipation. All Christine could think of was the man seated beside her. She could see the long un-gloved fingers of his hand as it rested on his thigh. She yearned to touch it, almost moving to do so several times, but the moment was lost as the orchestra started up and the opening strains of Verdi’s opera Don Carlos began.

She was curious to see Meg perform on the stage as Eboli the unrequited would be lover. The lead female role of Elisabetta Valois, being played by someone from Italy with whom she was not familiar. It was a role that she would dearly love to play herself. Maybe one day she might get that chance now. Trips to the theatre with Raoul had been an ironic scarcity, considering he had remained its patron. However, she had not blamed him, as the opera house was not exactly full of happy memories. Christine had been looking forward to this more than she realised as her heart leapt in her breast as the opera began.

Erik was watching Christine unobserved. The opera dulled in comparison, when compared to the emotions that played across her beautiful face. He drew a ragged breath. The feelings she aroused in him almost made him lose control whenever he was around her. Here he was at the age of 41 and still like a young schoolboy in the grip of his first infatuation. So many years had he been building walls to try to keep out the hurt, but they all crumbled to dust the moment he had seen her again in the hallway of her dead husband’s home.

The magic of the performance wove its spell around her as she became caught up in it, but no so much that she missed Erik’s touch as he wrapped one of his large hands around one of her impossibly tiny ones that lay in her lap. He squeezed her hand and she returned the pressure, glancing at him briefly with a warm smile, before she returned her attention to the stage.

Even with her eyes on the sad love story as it unfolded, it could not hold her attention like the feel of his warm hand. He had begun to trace lazy circles in the inner flesh of her palm and suddenly the theatre felt very hot to her. She was glad of the darkness to hide her heated cheeks.

The evening had been a success and it gave her hope that she could have a normal future with him warmed her. He had been polite and courteous in his manner. She could almost believe the desperate lover of two days ago that had taken her against the dressing room door was nothing, but a figment of her imagination. It was only as they stepped into the carriage together and the door was closed behind them both, that he pulled her into his arms so she was sitting on his lap. Erik then lowered his head and kissed her hard on the lips.

Christine responded to his kisses with equal fervour, pulling back to rest her forehead on his. They both sat like that for several minutes, with only the gentle rocking of the carriage to lull them.

“Happy?” he asked.

Christine lifted her head to look at him, giving Erik such a smile of pure brilliance. He could not doubt the sincerity of the emotion that he read in her eyes. He also caught the shadow that she quickly struggled to hide.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Raoul…I was his wife for 13 years and he has hardly grown cold in his grave. Is it wrong to feel this happy?”

“No, if he truly loved you as I know he did, Raoul would want your happiness above all else. I would not have given you up to anyone that felt less than that.”

Christine looked at him. “Like you did? Is that why you let me go that night?” she asked.

“What choice did I have Christine? I knew you had feelings for the both of us. I had to be content with that and let you leave with Raoul.”

Christine pulled off one of her gloves to stroke his cheek.

“Were the years very lonely?” she asked.

Unshed tears glittered in his eyes, illuminated by the carriage lamps. He looked away, not wanting her to see. Christine rested her head against his chest.

“You are not alone anymore.”

He ran his hands over her back, pulling her against him tighter; he would never let her go again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Well,” said Meg as she looked around her apartment. “The carriage will be here any moment. How do you feel?”

“Terrified, excited, wondering how I will cope in a strange country.”

“Now aren’t you glad that mama insisted on those tedious English lessons when we were girls?”

“I can hardly remember them except for a few phrases here and there.”

“Don’t worry I am sure Erik will be willing to teach you,” smirked Meg.

Christine blushed, sure that another meaning entirely was behind Meg’s words. Before she could respond, there was a sharp rap at the door.

“That will be your mother no doubt,”

Meg looked at her sadly. “I know I am a grown woman, but I shall miss her until she can join us in New York,” she sighed.

“It will only be a month. As it is Andre and Firmin were not pleased to lose you, we cannot deprive them of their ballet mistress too. At least until they have found a suitable replacement. How did Luc take the news?” asked Christine.

“He asked me to marry him you know,”

“Luc?”

“Yes, but he is like any child when faced with losing his favourite toy. I will not be wed to man who uses it as a means to keep me here for his own self. He never offered it before when he thought I would not be going anywhere. He will get over me,”

“He could really love you Meg. Have you thought of that possibility?”

Someone banged on the door again, only louder this time. Meg was secretly glad of the distraction it brought.

“You had better get that. I have to go and make sure everything is in order,”

“Good, the sooner we get out of Paris the better. I have been terrified that someone would know who Erik was and report him to the police.” Said Christine as she lifted her skirts to ease her way down the stairs.

Madame Giry was about to use her key by the time Christine had opened the door. Erik was standing next to her, the impatience evident in the way he barged through the open door. She was a little surprised by the ferocity of his actions as he pulled her into his arms and searched her face.

“Wh-what is it?” she asked. “Has something happened?”

Erik took a few steadying breaths. Not caring that Madame Giry stood behind them, he lowered his head to kiss her before pulling back to look at her.

“I thought you had changed your mind.”

“Never,” she replied resting her head against his chin.

Madame Giry brushed past them. “Excuse me,” she said curtly on her way up the stairs.

Christine could not help the girlish giggle that escaped her lips. “I don’t think she approves,”

“She does. If Angelique did not, then the very heavens would shake,”

“True,”

“Everything ready?”

“My trunk has been packed for a couple of days now,”

“Good, come and sit with me in the carriage while the men load them up,”

Christine took his hand and he led her out to the carriage. She turned and gave once last glance at Meg’s lodgings before allowing Erik to help her into it. Meg and her mother joined them soon after.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cherbourg: France: Two days Later

Night was closing in. The salty scent of the sea was strong in her nostrils as she stood by the railing. Erik stood closely behind her, his cape enveloping the both of them, shielding her from the harsh bite of the spring evening air. Beneath the warm material, he was doing delicious things with her body that would have shocked any onlooker to the core. In other circumstances, Christine would have put up a token resistance.

However, Erik had been clever, knowing that she could not pretend to be outraged, without drawing attention to them. She felt, warm, loved and safe in the protective circle of his arms. Christine looked around her to see if anyone had noticed, but thankfully, most of the people on the first class passenger’s deck were too pre-occupied in their own thoughts.

Meg stood next to the both of them, wiping at her eyes with Erik’s borrowed handkerchief. Madame Giry watched from the quay, hemmed in by other weeping families and friends as they wished their loved ones goodbye. She held her back ramrod straight, trying to keep her legendary composure as she waited for the boat to take her only child away to a strange land.

The ship began to move from the dock, and Meg’s tears increased as she openly sobbed into the handkerchief. Christine gently removed Erik’s large hands, which had been resting on her breasts beneath his cloak, took her friend into her arms and held her. She watched Madame Giry over her shoulder. She turned and walked away, but not before, Christine noticed the distress on her face.

She sighed. Maybe she had been selfish to part mother and daughter, but it was not as if it was a permanent arrangement. Madame Giry would be joining them shortly. Meg was a grown woman and more than able to handle it. Barely five minutes had passed before she was back to her cheerful self, declaring that she was going to see what delights the dining room held.

Christine had thought the decision to leave had been more tact driven to give the two lovers some privacy. She would catch up with Meg later in their huge cabin, which was bigger than the apartment they had been sharing. Erik had booked the stateroom next to theirs. The thought that he was so nearby pleased her.

She took his hand; they watched the disappearing coastline together. Christine rested her head on his shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her lips to be carried away on the sea air.

“What is it my love?” he asked, sensing her melancholy mood.

“I fear I shall never see France again,” she replied.

“And that makes you sad?”

“Both happy and sad,”

Erik reached into his cloak to take something from it. Christine turned to see what it was, surprised at the posy of forget-me-nots that he held in his hand. She paled.

“It was you…the day of my wedding. I thought there had been some mistake at the florists. You gave me the forget-me-nots. I should be angry knowing you were there and did not show yourself,”

“It was the only way I could tell you that I would never forget you Christine without causing you fresh pain. Above all else I wanted your happiness, that’s all I ever wanted for you,”

“Why give me these now?” she asked.

“Because I saw your face on the journey here, at times when you thought no one was watching. I am not such an insensitive brute that I think I can replace Raoul in a matter of a few days. I will leave you alone to say your farewells Christine. I will be in my cabin if you need me,”

He kissed her hand and walked away. She studied him until he disappeared around the corner. Christine turned back to face the railing, a sharp breeze caught at her hair whipping it into her face. She brushed it away and looked down at the flowers which she held in her hand.

“Goodbye Raoul…you will always be in my heart. I have found Erik again. He is a changed man. I think I can be happy with him. Please do not hate me wherever you are. Thank you for thirteen wonderful years…be at peace. I will never forget,”

Christine threw the flowers into the sea. They looked so lonely bobbing on the waves. She watched them for a moment before walking away to go in search of the man that had been a part of her life in one way or another for as long as she could remember. She needed to tell him that she did indeed need him and that she would always need him.

TBC
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Forget Me Not