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Emptiness	By : Josephine1881 Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Slash Views: 8257 -:- 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.

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Disclaimer: See Chapter One!

Chapter Forty-Two

Erik let me lead the way up to the house. It was a strange feeling to have him walk behind me. In the opera, he had always been the one to walk in front of me, the one who knew where we were going. Yet this was not the opera, but the house of my sister and her husband, who were almost complete strangers to Erik. He was not in control here. I could only begin to imagine how uncomfortable he must feel.

I would have liked to give Erik’s hand a reassuring squeeze, but even as we stood in front of the entrance door, he was behind me. I didn’t know if he did it out of courtesy or because he was hoping to hide behind me, but I was starting to feel apprehensive myself. Could something that made him that upset really be the right thing to do?

I didn’t get the chance to think about it. In that moment, the door flew open, even though I hadn’t used the knocker, and I was enveloped in a tight embrace.

“Raoul!” Clarille squealed, holding me at arm’s length. “It is so good to see you.”

“And you,” I gave back. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” she said, beaming. “It’s a wonderful dress, isn’t it? Alexandre brought it home from Italy.”

She let go of me and smoothed out a crease in the pale pink silk. I followed the movement of her hand and noticed that her stomach seemed to have grown bigger since the last time I had seen her.

I found myself beaming as well. My sister’s apparent happiness was contagious. It had always been like that, ever since we had been children. When one of us was happy, the other one would hasten to adopt the same mood.

“Didn’t you say that you’d bring someone with you?” Clarille added after a moment, peering over my shoulder.

I smiled to myself. My sister had always been the most curious member of our family. It only seemed natural that she’d ask about the visitor straight away. I also knew that she’d be the easier one of my sisters to talk to, so I was glad that she was first.

The smile froze on my lips as I turned around. The doorstep behind me was empty. Erik had disappeared.

“I did bring someone,” I told her, struggling to keep my voice calm, even though disappointment threatened to overwhelm me at any moment. “Maybe he... forgot something in the coach and had to go back, “ I improvised hastily.

“Maybe,” Clarille agreed, nodding.

Someone who didn’t know her well wouldn’t have noticed the difference in her expression, but I saw that there was something forced in her smile now. It was almost as if I could read her mind. She had hoped so much that I’d bring a girl with me. The moment I mentioned that my companion was male, she must have assumed that it was just another business partner. And now that Erik had left, there was little point in correcting her.

“Shall we go inside?” I asked.

“Yes,” Clarille replied, taking my arm. “If your companion arrives, he will be shown straight into the sitting room. I’ll make sure that the maid is informed.”

She was trying so hard to make it easier for me, but it had quite the opposite effect. The nicer she was, the more miserable I felt. Why hadn’t Erik stayed? I knew he had been apprehensive, but we had talked about it, and I had honestly thought I had managed to calm him down. Apparently, I had been wrong. He had seized the first opportunity to run for it.

Clarille and I made our way down the corridor. My sister chatted about this and that, and I managed to throw in a word every now and then. I had so been looking forward to seeing her and Sophie again, but now that Erik wasn’t with me, there seemed to be little point in my visit. It was rather like reading a story, only to find that one’s favourite part was missing.

When we reached the sitting room, Sophie was already standing at the door.

“Raoul,” she greeted me. “How nice it is to see you. You don’t come here often enough.”

She pulled me into a brief embrace, which saved me from having to give a reply. It was true that I didn’t see my sisters as often as we’d have liked to. There always was so much to do, both for them and for me.

As Sophie let go of me, I noticed that her stomach was even bigger than Clarille’s. However, they both had the same air of radiant beauty and perfect happiness around them. Being with child suited them very well. After their wonderful weddings and moving to their lovely new homes, it had been the next step. I wondered fleetingly why my life wasn’t that easy. Maybe it was because I was a man. Or maybe it was because I was too peculiar, too different from other people.

Suppressing a sigh, I tried my best to focus on my sisters. This was not the moment to wallow in self-pity. That was not why I had come here.

“Didn’t you want to bring a guest?” Sophie asked politely.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Clarille shaking her head vigorously. When I turned into her direction, she hastily pretended to brush a strand of hair out of her face.

“Raoul’s companion was held up,” she explained. “He might join us later.”

Sometimes, it was almost frightening to see how similar my sisters were. For a brief moment, Sophie’s face fell, just like Clarille’s had done, only to be forced into an unconvincing smile.

“That is nice,” she remarked. “Who is he? Anyone we know?”

I knew I could have told them about Erik, even though he was not there. But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to doing so. When I had imagined telling them, Erik had always been there, holding my hand, giving me strength. Left on my own all of a sudden, I couldn’t draw courage from thin air. I couldn’t do it.

“He’s just a friend,” I muttered, trying to make it clear that I had no desire to discuss the topic further.

My sisters seemed to have understood, for they merely nodded and asked no more questions. Sophie led us to the low table in the corner of the room, on which tea was already steaming in three cups. Clarille tried to distract me, but I still saw Sophie gesturing at a maid to take away a fourth cup. Again, I suppressed a sigh. If only Erik had seen how welcome he was...

For a while, we focused on our tea and the cake that was served with it. It was chocolate, which I was sure had been done for my benefit. Under normal circumstances, it would have certainly cheered me up. That day, however, it only reminded me of the chocolate cake Erik had once served me, the one we had never eaten because when it had been time for dessert, we had already been busy with other activities.

After the initial talk about how each of us drank their tea and how big a slice of cake we wanted had died down, none of us seemed to know what to say. Clarille began telling us an anecdote about her housekeeper and her troublesome husband, but she stopped halfway through it and didn’t start again.

The uneasy silence was unlike anything I had ever experienced with my sisters. Philippe frequently reduced me to silence, but I always knew what to talk about with Sophie and Clarille. Well, nearly always. That day, I was feeling unusually tongue-tied and shy around them. It was as if by announcing that I’d bring a guest, I had made a promise that I had failed to keep. They had been so hopeful that it would be a nice girl, and now that there was no one, they didn’t know how to react.

I could see all that clearly in their faces, in the glances they exchanged when they thought I wasn’t watching, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t have anything to talk about. I usually told them about my day, for they took an interest in the most ordinary things, but these days, nearly every activity involved Erik. He had become such a big part of my life that when taken out, he left a gaping hole.

I knew that feeling very well. It had been exactly the same after Christine’s death. But Erik was not dead, I thought suddenly. He was alive, wonderfully alive. I ought to be able to tell people about him. Maybe not everyone. But I had to tell my sisters about him. I had to tell them how happy he was making me. I couldn’t bear to see them like this, struggling for words, clearly thinking that I was still in mourning.

I cleared my throat. At once, my sisters looked up from their tea.

“I have to tell you something,” I announced, sitting up straight in my chair. “My friend... my friend is... Actually, he is...”

“He is the Phantom of the Opera,” Erik completed my sentence, striding into the room, like an actor who had only waited for his cue. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mesdames.”
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Emptiness