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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
- 11
- 12
- 13
A/N The Street that Erik’s house is on in the story is a fabricated address, although after further research I discovered there is an Orchard Street in Manhattan.

Please review :) I know I like writing it, but I also need to know you like reading it too lol.

Homecoming

Chapter 11

Erik saw Tom safely into the carriage and turned to face Christine. She was white with shock and trembling, her eyes dark pools of fear.

“This is my entire fault. If I hadn’t asked Meg to come to America with me then none of this would have ever happened.”

“There is no fault Christine, and there isn’t time to blame ourselves for what has happened. If you will be alright for a moment then I will go and talk to the police officer that brought Tom to us,”

“Fine, I will stay here and watch over Tom,” said Christine, glad to have an occupation for her terrified mind, which was already going over the possibilities of what could have happened to her friend.

She kept an eye on the man as he lay back on the seat cushions, occasionally turning and straining her ears to hear what was being said. The police officer’s accent and the speed of his speech totally defeated her, so with a resigned sigh she turned her attention back to her charge. She wanted to cry. She could feel the unshed tears sting her eyes, but Erik was right, now was not the time and it would not help them discover what had happened to Meg.

She may have just gotten lost in the press of the crowds.

Then why had Tom been assaulted? Christine could feel the hysteria rising again. She was just about to turn around and march over to the men, when she hit the solid wall of Erik's chest.

He took her hand in his. “Now Christine, I need you to stay calm…and strong. I know you have it in you. After all you nursed your husband those long months alone…”

“Please…just tell me,” she pleaded.

“Very well,” he looked down at her with grim determination. “The officer informs me that there have been reports of young girls going missing in the area…inducted into prostitution against their will,”

“But what would they want with Meg? She is hardly a young girl, but neither is she old. There must be a mistake! She is lost in some back street. We will find her!”

“Yes, that is a possibility. No stone will be unturned. The police officer is going to go back to his yard and send some men out to search for her. I am going with them,”

Tom sat up in the carriage and leaned out of the window, cradling his still bleeding head with one of his handkerchiefs. He looked at the couple.

“If that is what has befallen the little miss, then may I suggest you start looking in five points? Let me come with you. I should have taken better care of her.” He stood up; only to crumple back into his seat again as a wave of dizziness took over him.

Erik looked at him, sternly, but kindly. “Let’s not make assumptions until we have all the facts and you’re no good to me like this Tom. Get some rest,”

He turned his attention to Christine, not showing the fear that Tom’s suggestion had given him. If she were indeed in Five points, then their task of recovering her was not going to be easy. The district that Tom had mentioned was the worst area in the city. It was a neighbourhood filled with dilapidated slums, a hotbed of vice, corruption and prostitution. There was still a chance that she was lost and wandering the streets. He was still clinging to that hope and that was where they would look first.

“I will come with you. I cannot leave here without her,” said Christine firmly.

“Of course we will search for her, but it is getting dark and the streets around here are not the place for you. Christine you do not know your way around New York and I will not risk losing you as well,”

“So, you just expect me to get in this carriage and go home wherever that may be, and wait for news?” She pouted, placing her hands on her hips.

Erik’s mouth thinned out in annoyance. “Yes I do Madame De Chagny,”

Christine felt the indignant anger build inside her at the insulting drawl as his mouth articulated her married name.

“But it…”

“Take the carriage back to my house and await me there. Tom needs care and I know these streets well. I promise you that Meg will be restored to us. I owe her and her mother that much,”

Christine sighed. She felt ashamed by her petulance. He was right; she would be of better use at home watching over Tom. She only had to look into Erik’s eyes and see the thinly veiled emotions that were running through him…and the fear he had tried so hard to conceal, but she had seen anyway.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Erik smiled at her and returned the pressure before lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it briefly. He helped Christine into the carriage and closed the door on her. She pulled down the window. Erik was filled with the desire to pull her towards him and kiss her lips with the violence of emotions that he was feeling, but with the coach driver and police officer looking on, he had to restrain himself.

“I am sorry too. I will return when there is news my love,”

He raised his hand, about to signal to the coach driver, when Christine pulled him back to her and kissed him hard on the lips. He was too shocked to respond at first to her very public display of affection. Nevertheless, with the feel of her soft lips moving against his own, soon all thought fled as he returned the kiss. He pulled back reluctantly and nodded at the driver. Erik watched until the coach was out of sight, he touched his lips briefly, still feeling the imprint of her mouth on his.

The police officer looked at him with a smile. “It’s nice to be married isn’t it Sir,” he stated.

“She’s not my…” Erik paused. She was indeed his wife in every thing but name. It felt wrong to deny what lay between them. “Thank you…yes it is.”

“Now let’s get to the yard and get help, so that we begin searching for your friend,”

Erik turned to look at the man. “I want an honest answer, what are our chances of finding her?”

The police officer sighed with the world-weariness of a man who had seen too much death and violence in his young life.

“If she was taken by the kind of people I think she was, and if she does as they say, she will survive. However, the ones that don’t, are usually found at some place or another,”

“And where would that be?” asked Erik.

“Floating in the Hudson Sir,” replied the officer, grimly.

“I will not allow that to happen,” said Erik, with an icy determination.

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

The coach pulled up outside a large house on the corner of Orchard St that would not have been out of place in a gothic horror novel. The streetlamps had already started to be lit, which cast a soft glow over the almost impenetrable darkness that had since fallen. Lights blazed in every window of the tall three-story building that was Erik’s home.

Tom had fallen asleep on the last part of their journey, only to be awoken by the jolt as their carriage had come to a stop. He watched the woman that his master had adored all these years as she sat there with a quiet dignity. He could almost understand his obsession with her, but his mind kept going back to the blonde angel that he had met off the boat, only to lose her moments later. He should have been more vigilant, he knew what kind of vermin inhabited those areas, and after all, he had once been a part of it. He sighed heavily before turning his attention back to Christine.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asked her.

Christine was lost in her own thoughts and almost missed his softly spoken words.

“Yes it is,”

“Monsieur Devereux built it himself you know. It is his design from the foundations to the roof,” said Tom proudly.

Christine turned to look at Tom, unshed tears in her eyes. “Do you think we will find her?”

“One thing I have learned about my employer is that if he wants something he will get it…do not worry Madam, he will find your friend. I would have been out there tonight looking for her myself if he had let me.”

The driver opened the coach door, let down the step and held out a hand to assist Christine from the carriage. She waited, while he also helped Tom. He was still very unsteady on his feet as he struggled up the path to the house. The driver then left them, to go stable the horses.

Christine looked at the imposing, shiny black painted door for a moment, before she rapped on the knocker. They did not have to wait long before the sounds of footsteps on a tiled floor could be heard.

The door was flung open to reveal a huge black shape dominating the doorway, its hands on its hips, and hair sticking up in all directions. Christine gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

“Mon Dieu!”

The shape walked into the light of the porch and Christine breathed a sigh of relief as it turned out to be a portly woman of advanced years. Christine guessed her to be around the age of sixty. Her hair was tightly rolled up in curlers and she looked as if she had been in the process of retiring for the night.

“Now we’ll have none of that fancy French talk here missy. My name’s Patty by the way and if you want an answer at anytime you have to use it.” she winked at Christine. “Good old fashioned English is my language. Have enough with Erik and his French expletives. Thinks I don’t understand him either,” She burst into a hearty fit of laughter. “Come in, before you catch your death of cold. New York springtime can still be nippy at night,”

“Merci…I mean thank you, Patty,” Christine amended.

Christine did not understand all of her words, but got the main essence of what the older woman was saying. She stepped over the threshold of Erik’s home. She was not sure what she had expected, but it was nothing like the dark dank home he had inhabited back at the opera house. It was as if he had purposely made it the opposite of the place that had been nothing more than a prison to him.

She smiled to herself at the large chandelier that dominated the grand hallway. Some things however did not change, and so it seemed, neither had Erik’s penchant for chandeliers.

“Where is Monsieur Devereux? I thought there were to be two young ladies arriving tonight?” asked Patty

Tom gave Patty a glance, which silenced her before he began. “There was trouble at the docks. The other miss was separated from us. Erik has gone with the police to help search for her,”

“And what happened to you?” she asked. Noting the ugly bruise on his forehead.

“I was set upon when I was escorting the said miss to the carriage,”

Christine looked from Tom to the housekeeper, seeing the look that passed between them and watching as Patty’s smile faded. There was something they were not telling her, she could feel it. However, she was so very tired and distraught, that she had no energy for more questions. She could only wait, helplessly, until there was some news of Meg.

“Tom can show you to the drawing room. I will go and make some tea,”

Christine followed Tom down the long hallway until they came to a set of double doors, which were frosted with glass. He turned the handles and opened the door onto a cheery looking sitting room. It appeared well used and had such a cosy feel to it, which instantly made her feel at home.

“This is Erik’s private room. All the other grand rooms in this place are merely for show and he rarely uses them, but I think he would want me to bring you here,”

“Thank you,” she replied.

Tom put a hand to his temple, looking suddenly pale. Christine rushed to his side.

“You have done enough. Get some rest, I will be fine here until Erik returns.”

“Very well,” he sighed. “If you need anything just ring the bell. Patty will be there in an instant. For an old woman she is dangerously fast on her feet. She may have the appearance of a gorgon, but she has a heart of pure gold.”

Christine watched Tom walk off before closing the doors on her. She needed to be alone. Erik’s presence could be felt in the room as if he were standing by her side. It comforted her a little. A jacket lay against the back of one of two leather armchairs that graced the room. The latest copy of the New York times lay on the floor. The area its self, was almost empty of furniture apart from a modest bookshelf. A piano rested against one of the walls and a small table was positioned between the two chairs. Everything had been prepared in readiness for the master's return. The fire in the hearth blazed invitingly and Christine removed her gloves and went to stand in front of it.

Alone, she let the façade drop and began to weep in earnest, her shoulders shaking as the huge sobs wracked her tiny frame. She was so caught up in her misery that she did not hear the sound of the tea tray as it was placed on the table. A pair of strong arms enfolded her and turned her around. Christine rested her head on the ample shoulders of the housekeeper, as the woman stroked her hair until her tears begun to ebb.

Patty led her over to one of the armchairs and sat her down, before pouring her a cup of tea. Christine took it gratefully, the hot sweet brew was just what she needed as she realised it had been some time since she had last eaten. Not that she had the stomach for food, even when Patty insisted she try some of her home baked cookies.

“Would you like me to stay until the master arrives?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” Christine replied.

Patty nodded understandingly and made a discreet exit.

Christine unpinned her bonnet, glad to be free of it. She placed it on the table and leaned back in the chair. It was then that her head encountered the material of Erik’s jacket that lay across it. She pulled it off the back of the chair and breathed in his scent, before wrapping her arms about it, wishing with all her heart that its owner were in her arms at this moment. Maybe she was cursed. She thought agitatedly. After all, she had never brought Erik anything but suffering.

Christine sighed. She knew that last frantic thought was untrue. Whatever had happened in the past, she had seen pure joy in his face these last few weeks. She lay back in the chair, Erik’s jacket still in her grasp, while she listened to the sounds of the mantle clock as the minutes ticked away into hours and her eyelids finally grew heavy.

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

It was almost dawn, when Erik resignedly made his way up the path to his house. He turned the key in the lock and entered the almost dark hallway. Patty always turned the lamps down low, past midnight, and now it was almost a new day. He threw his cape and hat on the floor, too tired to care as they hit the marble tiles.

He needed a brandy. The news he had for Christine was not good. At least she was safely tucked up in her bed out of harms way. He walked down the hall and opened the doors to his sitting room. Erik was surprised to find Christine in his favourite chair, curled up asleep, and wrapped up in his jacket.

She looked so peaceful that he was loath to wake her. Instead, he went over to the Tantalus on his bookcase and took the brandy decanter from it. He poured a generous measure into one of the balloon glasses by its side.

Christine stirred, sensing she was no longer alone. She opened her eyes to see Erik contemplating a glass that he held in his hand. His face was grim and set. Dark stubble highlighted his face and he looked so very tired.

She divested herself of his jacket and held out a hand to him. “Erik,” she sighed sleepily.

He took a deep gulp of the brandy, not caring that the liquor burned his throat as it went down. She was surprised as he took her hand and pulled her out of the chair and held her against him tightly.

“What is it? Is it Meg? Did you find her?” asked Christine against, his shoulder.

“Yes and no,” Erik pulled back to look at her. “I searched all night along with several of the officers. We had all but given up hope for the evening when we were approached by a woman in one of the back alleys. At first, we thought it was just one of the many prostitutes in the area, plying her trade. She had apparently been following us for some time and had overheard that we were looking a French woman that had been abducted earlier that day,”

“Why would you trust her?” asked Christine.

“Because she did not ask for money.”

Erik decided to leave out the part about the woman’s sister having suffered the same fate as Meg. To be abducted no sooner than she had arrived on American soil and had died as a result. He did not want to add to her heartache.

“She had personal reasons of her own for wanting to help, which convinced me of her sincerity. I am to meet her at 11pm tomorrow night on the corner of Orange St and she says she can take me to where they are holding her,”

“It might be dangerous,” said Christine.

Erik smiled at her naiveté. “I will not be going alone. Tom if he is well, will be coming with me and there will be several officers in the area in civilian clothing,”

“I want to come with you,” said Christine.

Erik almost snorted aloud. “Christine you have no idea of the kind of lowlifes that in habit that area. Five points is like walking into hells gates,”

Christine bit back the sharp retort that hovered on her lips. She was tired of being treated like the fragile girl she had once been. Raoul had taught her to shoot and fence with deadly accuracy and her own ability had surpassed that of her husband’s in the end. Although at the time, she had thought his instruction had only been the means for her to defend herself against the Phantom, if he had ever proven to still be alive and come looking for them.

She would play the helpless female for now, but Christine would listen out for her chance to aid her friend. She was tired of sitting at home and playing the good little woman when she could be helping.

“Where is Tom?” he asked.

“He went to bed some time ago. He was still a little shaken up, but I think he will be fine,” Christine flushed guiltily for having not checked up on him before now.

Erik took her hand. “Come with me upstairs and we will both look in on him. All that can be done, has been done until tonight,”

Yes indeed. Thought Christine to herself.

They climbed the grand double staircase together. Their footsteps muffled by the rich cream coloured carpet that covered it. Erik led her down the hall to a door at the far end of the passageway. He knocked before entering the room. Tom struggled to sit up in the bed at the sight of his visitors.

“So did you find her?” asked Tom.

“Yes, she’s in Five Points,”

“I knew it!” he exclaimed.

Christine saw Tom’s face grow hard at the news as she saw a side of him that was hidden beneath that polite civility. Erik obviously liked to keep company with people with shady pasts. What was that saying, she thought…birds of a feather?

She could tell there were things that they wished to discuss by the heavy silence that fell in the room. Christine excused herself and asked for directions to the washroom. She partially closed the door behind her, just enough to hear what was being said.

As soon as she left the room, they began to discuss what was to be done to bring Meg back.

“Does Christine know what kind of place Five points is?” asked Tom.

“I only told her what she needed to know. As far as she is concerned it’s no worse that your average Parisian slum. We think Meg is being held in the brothel on Orange St. I am to meet the woman there tonight at 11 o’clock are you up for a little night work Tom?”

“Need you ask? Nevertheless, begging your pardon Erik, you are going to need some clothing that fits into the mood of the place. You go dressed like that and they will have the very shirt off your back within seconds,”

“I had thought of that. Later when you are feeling up to it, I want you to go to the salvation army store and buy us some suitable garments. Now I am going to get some much needed rest before tonight,”

Christine opened the door and entered the room, smiling innocently at the men. Erik got up from the side of Tom’s bed and took her hand. She nodded her goodbye to Tom before they closed the door and left him alone.

“Doubt you’ll be getting that much rest,” grinned Tom to himself as he got up out of the bed and began to get dressed.

TBC
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Forget Me Not