Your Voice

Chapter 11

Christine

The gun of the guard following behind me goes clunk, clunk, clunk. We reach my dressing room and he opens the door, peering in to check for Raoul. Discovering he's not there, he allows me to enter. I find Erik standing near a couch opposite to my vanity.

"You sang like an angel tonight,"my fiance squeezes me and kisses the top of my head, "and, my dear Christine, your ballet is still amazing."

"Been at it for my whole life. I'm glad you liked it." I tiptoe up and kiss him. Gustave comes from behind him.

"Mummy, you never told me you were a ballerina!"

"Yes, Gustave, I used to dance when I was younger. And did you know," I take my boy's hands and sit on the couch with him, "that your father used to give me a pair of ballet shoes every year on my birthday. Little Lotte would be rehearsing, and when she came upstairs to go to bed, there would be a pink box on her pillow, and in it, along with the pretty slippers, there would be a single red rose.

"Erik, could you help me unzip?" I hold my hair up as he does so.

"Christine..." His fingers brush the bare skin of my back. "What..." he refers to my scars.

"Raoul... he was drunk often." I answer. Erik kisses my wounds. Changing into my blue everyday dress behind a changing screen, I nearly fall over; I am exhausted. I have just finished performing a song with Meg, one that required quite a bit of dancing, and moving into the mansion all day is not an light task.

"Darling," Erik holds my waist from behind and kisses my cheek. "Christine, I know you're tired, but I have something to tell you." I turn around and brace for the news. "They caught Raoul. He is at the police station now, and according to the officer, he's asking for you." I draw in a sharp breath and turn away. "Look Angel, you don't have to if you don't want to-"

"No. No... I'll see him." I shut my eyes for a second, recalling our wedding day, the days as children, when I was his. "Right. Let's go."

***

The door slams shut behind me as I enter the room. Raoul sits in a flimsy chair, handcuffed to the table in front of him. When he looks up at me, I see his bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyes.

"Christine..." he whispers hoarsely.

"Raoul."

"Christine... I just... I... I didn't think you'd come here-"

"Me neither."

"Christine, I called you here because I wanted to say something." He takes in a deep breath, and noticing the blank look on my face, he continues. "I'm sorry, Christine, I am so sorry for everything I have done. I'm sorry I was not the gentleman I was when I first came to your dressing room, I am sorry I am not that cheeky boy who ran into the sea to fetch your scarf. Now that alcohol is not in my reach, I can barely imagine how much you had persevered with my drinking problem, and I am truly thankful. I'm so sorry that I was not the husband and father you and Gustave needed, and, God, if I could turn back time to redo everything, I would. I would go out and find some work. I would take Gustave to outings, and we would be the perfect family we fantasized about so many years ago. If I could close your wounds with words of love...

You need so much, it's true

And I've denied you

You need the man you knew

Back here, beside you

You'll have him back, I vow

Just ask it of me