In many ways, Christmas was just as hard to get through as Thanksgiving had been. My family in America had had the custom of getting together for Christmas, even if it meant traveling very long distances. This would be the very first Christmas that I would be spending without my blood family and the Fontaines knew this. Therefore they tried to include me in all of their activities and preparations for the holiday and that included all of the shopping for the ingredients for Christmas dinner as well as the shopping for the gifts. The French are not as materialistic as Americans and are, in my opinion, a lot easier to shop for. Shopping for the things to fill little Colette's sabot was probably the easiest shopping I did that holiday season. Helping to shop for the ingredients for the big family dinner was more of a challenge since I had never seen or used many of the things that were needed but I must have been successful for there were no complaints from Mme. Fontaine.
All those activities served to keep me so busy that I did not really miss my family until midnight Mass Christmas Eve. I had to go alone, for the Fontaines felt it would keep Colette up much too late. Seeing all the families together at Mass that night reminded me of my own family. After I returned home and went to bed, I cried until almost dawn. Then hearing Colette get up and hearing her cries of joy at what Pere Noel had brought her quieted me a bit and allowed me to dry my eyes, get out of bed and join her. Although it was not quite the same, I was able to enjoy the rest of the day without breaking down in tears.
Perhaps what made my sadness worse was the fact that I had not seen or heard from Erik since early October. As the weeks before Christmas went by, I found myself missing him more than I thought I would. He had progressing so well with his English lessons that I hated to see him give them up altogether. Needless to say, there were no singing lessons given either and I found myself thinking that perhaps Erik felt that he was wasting his time with a middle aged nobody like myself or maybe he just did not want to deal with a tempermental fool like me.
At any rate, I was able to accomplish much during the weeks before the holidays. I finished Mme. Bouquet's costume the middle of November, just as Jean-Baptiste had requested and she was absolutely delighted with it. She had picked out a black and red houndstooth check, about a half an inch in diameter, which, for anyone else as short as she, would have been overwhelming but, she, like me, was a bit on the heavy side and it looked very good on her. There was enough material to make a skirt full enough and long enough to fit over a six hoop crinoline easily, as well as enough to make a garibaldi blouse with long, full sleeves. I even made her a black velvet bonnet, similar to the blue one I had showed her husband back in September when he had first hired me. About the only thing I did not make for her was a shawl, but she was able to find one at a second-hand store for a reasonable price. She loved everything I had made for her and told me as much. Jean-Baptiste was pleased as well and promised me that he would speak with the managers about giving me a raise after the first of the year, not only for my favor to him but also because I was doing a really good job in the costume department as well.
As for my costume, it was a different story altogether. Even though I had written first to Pete and then to my sister Sharon, I heard nothing from either one until just after Christmas when I received another large box from Pete. In it were some more scraps from my mother's collection, and at the very bottom of the box, I found an old rust-colored camp dress, a long white apron, a short black cape and a note from Pete explaining that he was unable to find the outfit that I had wanted and could only find what he ended up sending. Needless to say, I was crushed because, even though the dress still fit, it was not what I had wanted to wear to the costume ball.
I showed it to Jean-Baptiste anyway, half-hoping that he would
find it unacceptable. Instead, he was intrigued. "Where did
you get it?" he asked, as I modeled it for him. "I made it for a Civil
war re-enactment I was in back when we lived in Colorado," I replied.
"It's a charming dress," he said.
"You don't think it's too plain?" I asked. "Not at all.
Really, Roberta, I think it will do very nicely. It's a simple dress
but it will fit in with the theme quite well. You could go as a nurse
in the Franco-Prussian War."
"That's the problem, Jean-Baptiste. I was really hoping that my brother would send the outfit I told you about. It's much more festive looking than this." "You wouldn't want to be too festive anyway," he replied. "Why not?" I asked.
"Because Carlotta will be wearing a ball gown based on one of Empress Eugenie's famous Worth gowns, and La Carlotta doesn't like to be upstaged, especially by one of the crew, and most especially at our masked balls! She prides herself in having one of the best if not THE best costume at our balls. It simply would not be a good idea to outdo her. We really don't want to have any scenes. It's bad for business," he replied, as I folded the dress and put it back in my bag. He added, "At any rate, you're all set for our ball, Cinderella. You'll have fun, I assure you. Management is having the Cafe de la Paix do the catering. The food alone is well worth attending and the entertainment is absolutely outstanding. Why, we even have a singing contest. Everybody sings at it and the winner gets a weekend at Les Sables d'Olonne, one of the best beaches France has to offer." He must have seen a look of horror on my face for he then added, "What's the matter? I thought you liked to sing. I've heard you vocalizing, although not lately. You seem to sing quite well." "I don't think I sing that well and besides, I'm awfully nervous in front of people," I said as I shook my head slowly.
He shrugged his shoulders and then said, "Well, if you don't want to sing, you don't have to. It's not required. At any rate, you're all set for the ball tomorrow night. As for today, I'm glad you were able to mend those hems on those skirts. That's a last minute job I hadn't expected to have. Since you have tomorrow off, I'll see you here tomorrow night. You might want to get here about seven-thirty. The ball starts at eight but people start arriving before then so it's a good idea to get here early in order to get in on all the fun and it will go on until the wee hours, so get your rest. A bien tot."
I left the opera house that evening somewhat saddened by Jean-Baptiste's remark about my singing. While it was true that I enjoyed singing, I had not sung since the episode with my headache. It had been over eleven weeks since I had last seen or heard from Erik and I just did not want to sing without his presence. Have I done something or say something to Erik that he didn't like? I wondered as I stood in the crowded metro, waiting for my train. Why hasn't he contacted me? It must have been something I said, then. Stupid idiot! He only works there at the opera house, the same as you and he was only doing his job the best he could! How could you be so stupid as to criticize him?
My sadness did not lift even after I got to the opera house the next evening. Jean-Baptiste had been right about the crowds. Even though I arrived at about seven-thirty, as he suggested, crowds were already coming in. Dancing was not to start until nine but everybody, it seemed, wanted to get good seats as seating was on a first-come, first-serve basis. I had decided not to wear my costume but instead, had brought it in a bag along with a pair of comfortable flats. I did not know if I would be able to sit down at all that evening and I did not want my feet to hurt, if I could help it any. I had lengthened the hem of the dress a bit, so it would cover my shoes, and no one could tell that my shoes were not of that same time period. Besides, I thought as Andre opened the door for me, no one will be looking at my feet anyway. "Are the crowds always this big?" I asked Andre as I walked in.
"If you think this is bad, just wait until later towards midnight. Everybody and his dog wants to bring the new year in here at the opera house. It's just like your Times Square. Some years, it's so crowded people have to be turned away!" he said as he locked the door behind me.
"Where do they go then?" I asked. "Usually they stay outside in the square, or if the weather's bad, they go to the Cafe de la Paix or the other bistros around here," he replied.
"And you have to work all night anyway?" I asked. "Not usually. I'll be joining in the festivities around ten or so and then, after midnight, I'll go back to work letting people out. Things start winding down after midnight anyway so I'll probably go home about one-thirty and be back here, bright and early Friday morning, as usual," he said, smiling.
I shook my head and smiled as well, and then said, "You have more energy than I do, Andre. I don't know how you do it." "I eat right and take lots of smoke breaks," he said, still smiling. I waved my hand, smiling as well, and said, "I'll see you later, Andre." I walked down the hall to Jean-Baptiste's office where I changed into my costume. Evidently other people had had the same idea, for it was strewn with coats, sweatshirts, jeans and other assorted pieces of clothing.
When I got to the main lobby of the opera house, it was packed with people, none of whom I recognized which was not surprising since everybody was wearing costumes and masks. There was a tremendous variety of costumes ranging from the mundane such as mine to the outright fantastic and whimsical. One guy was dressed as a pizza and another was dressed as a bug-eyed alien. One lady walked by me dressed as an angelfish and there were even some party-goers dressed as Klingons from the old Star Trek movies. Trekies are even here in France, I mused as I made my way through the crowds.
I ascended the world-famous and magnificent main staircase in order to see if I could fnd anybody I knew. I had been told that all of the upstair rooms would be open to the public and the larger salons would even have space set aside for orchestras and dancing. Not that I expect to dance any, I thought as I went down the hallway. I haven't danced since my wedding twenty-two years ago! Now, why did I go and think about that? I'm supposed to be having fun and not thinking about what might have been! Let's put all those thoughts aside, Roberta! You're here to forget your problems, not be dwelling on them!
As I passed by one of the rooms, I thought I heard familiar voices, so I entered that room. It was one of the large salons, with a table set up on one end of the room with all kinds of food on it. Chairs were lined up on both sides of the longer walls and at the far end of the room, a small string ensemble was getting set up. Closer to the door where I was, people were standing around and I recognized both Michel and Jacqueline, more by their bickering than by what they were wearing. Michel was dressed as a working man from the Second Empire, with a full-sleeved bib shirt and a simple pair of trousers. Jacqueline was dressed in a dark blue riding habit of that period, and I heard Michel say something to the effect that Carlotta would not be pleased to see Jacqueline wearing such a fancy costume. I walked over to them and said, "Bonjour."
They looked up at me from their somewhat heated
conversation and greeted me enthusiastically. "Roberta! So
nice to see you," Michel said as he kissed my cheeks, first one and then
the other.
"I thought you weren't coming," Jacqueline said as she did the
same. "I didn't think I would be," I replied. "Really?
Why not?" Michel asked. "I didn't think I'd have a costume
to wear. I didn't get this thing I'm wearing until the day before
yesterday and it looks so plain next to yours, Jacqueline."
Before she could say anything, Michel spoke
up and said, "Being plain might not be such a bad idea tonight. I
told Jacqueline she'll catch hell from Carlotta for wearing such a fancy
riding habit."
"I thought Carlotta was going to wear a fancy ball gown," I said.
"She is, but you know Carlotta. She always has to be the belle of
the ball. Now there's a play on words for you! As huge as she
is, she'll probably look like a bell!"
Jacqueline began to giggle which then got me to going. It took her a minute but she was finally able to stop laughing long enough to say, "Papa! That's not a nice thing to say!" "But it's probably true!" I added, and we all broke out laughing at that remark. After we had all calmed down a bit, I said, "I hate to ask this but is there anything to eat here? I haven't eaten anything since lunch and I'm starved!"
"Yes, at the table over there. There's all kinds of goodies," Michel said as he pointed to the table near where we were standing. "I think I'll go over and get something to eat," I said. "We'll join you," Jacqueline replied, and we all walked over to the table. It was a long table that had glass plates the size of salad plates stacked on one end of the table along with dinnerware and cups that were placed next to the plates. The rest of the table had all kinds of food items arranged smorgasbord style. I got a plate and walked around the table, picking out what I wanted. There were several raw vegetables and fruits to choose from in addition to a large variety of sliced cheeses and breads along with a few warming trays that contained small sausages and meatballs. I picked out a couple of slices of bread, a couple of slices of cold cuts, a few meatballs, a couple of slices of cheese, and plenty of spears of raw broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots, as well as some small pieces of melon and a couple of slices of apple. I had not been joking when I had said that I was hungry but in addition, I always got a little nervous when I found myself around a lot of people and I ate a lot that night as much from nerves as from hunger. There were not as many people upstairs as downstairs but the room was still crowded. Even so, we were able to find three adjoining seats, so we sat down and started eating.
We had just sat down when Jean-Baptiste and his wife walked into the room. He was dressed in evening clothes of the 1860s and looked quite debonair in his short cape and top hat. Mme. Bouquet also looked nice in the outfit I had made for her. Jean-Baptiste noticed us sitting against the wall and both he and his wife came over to us and greeted us enthusiastically. "Bonsoir, mes amis! Roberta! It's good to see you! What do you think of our ball so far?" he asked as I made room on my plate to place my cup of punch.
"It's wonderful but I've never seen such crowds before!" I replied. "Just wait until midnight if you think this is bad!" he said. "That's what Andre was telling me earlier," I said as I picked up a slice of cheese and bit into it.
"Have you been to any of the other rooms yet. There's lots to see," He said, looking down at me as I ate. "No, not yet. I thought I'd get something to eat first," I said as I picked up my cup of punch and began to take a sip.
"I suppose Carlotta's here as well," Michel said dryly, as he adjusted the plate on his lap. Oh, yes. She's quite the belle of the ball," Jean-Baptiste said, at which both Michel and Jacqueline began to laugh. I had just taken a sip of punch and nearly choked at his remark. I had to quickly grab my napkin and cover my mouth.
"Did I say something wrong? Roberta, are you all right?" Jean-Baptiste said with a look of puzzlement on his face and then one of concern. I nodded as the choking sensation subsided and then said, "It's just a private joke, that's all. I understand that there will be dancing this evening. Will it only be in this room?"
"There will be dancing in several rooms tonight. Unfortunately, we don't have a ballroom in this building. Why Gardiner designed it that way I don't know but we have several salons large enough for small numbers of people to dance in them. There's also plenty of rooms to sit and eat as well, as you have found out." He replied.
"That's not such a bad idea, Jean. Let's eat now. We can always talk and dance later," Mme. Bouquet spoke up as she looked at her husband. "I agree, my dear. Until later, mes amis," He said as she took his arm and they walked to the buffet table.
As they walked away from us, I leaned over and said to Michel, "They make a nice couple, don't you think?" "Yes, they do," he ssaid, agreeing with me. Then he added, "She's had a lot to put up with. He's spent so much time here at the opera house since he started working here that he practically lives here. How his wife puts up with his long hours, I'll never know."
"Was he working here when Tomislav tried to kill Christine?" I asked. "No, that was when his predecessor was still here," he replied as he picked up a slice of apple off his plate and bit into it. "Oh, Papa! That's ancient history!" Jacqueline exclaimed and rolled her eyes.
I could sense another good story coming from Michel, so I said, "I don't care! Please, tell me!" I picked up my cup and took another sip of punch and waited for Michel to begin. It seemed I was always in the mood to hear one of Michel's stories.
"Do you remember that story I told you about that singer?" he began his story by asking. "Yes, you said his name was Tomislav...something," I said as I put my cup down on my plate. He nodded his head and said, "Tomislav Dubrovnik. Dubrovnik was his stage name. I don't know why I couldn't think of it earlier but, anyway, that's what he name was. Do you remember the rest of the story I told you?"
"Yes. You said he tried to kill another
singer...Christine Daee...is that right?" I asked.
"That's correct. Bouquet wasn't working here yet but his
predecessor was. I guess it HAS been quite awhile ago at that.
Twenty-five years ago this year, as a matter of fact," he mused for a moment,
and then continuing, "At any rate, he was supposed to br keeping better
track of things, Bouquet's predecessor, I mean, but this guy wasn't and
a terrible thing happened."
"I think Jean-Baptiste told me something about that...something about props being switched. But I thought Jean-Baptiste had been here for thirty years. That's what he told me, anyway," I said as I put my plate down on the empty chair next to me.
"That's also correct. A prop knife was switched for the real thing," he said, and then added, "And as for Bouquet, while he may have been working as a costume man for thirty years, he's only been here for twenty-five." "But why would anyone want to switch knives?" I asked but I could tell where Michel was going in his story.
"It seems our Tomislav got upset at Christine for, as he saw it anyway, cheating on him because, for a time, they had been lovers but had split up. Anyway, we were doing Carmen that season, and for some reason, both the lead tenor singing the part of Don Jose as well as his understudy were unavailable for that night's performance. I might add that the lead tenor was Christine's lover, by the way. Anyhow, Tomislav insisted on singing the part of Don Jose and why management let him do it, we'll never know, but anyway, he made the switch and Bouquet's predecessor lost his job over it."
"But did Tomislav actually stab Christine? Right there on stage in front of everybody?" I asked incredulously, unable to believe that anyone would do such a thing.
"Oh, yes! She was singing the title role and I guess just like the fictional Don Jose, Tomislav thought she deserved it." "But how could he get away with it?" I asked excitedly, trying to keep my voice down so as not to draw attention to myself.
"He didn't in the long run but at first we all thought it was part of the act. This opera house has long been noted for its special effects. We didn't notice until after the curtain came down that Christine was seriously hurt. As for Tomislav, he ran but the cops caught up with him at Sacred Heart basilica, of all places. He put up quite a fight before sliding down the hill the basilica sits on. Scraped his face up pretty bad too, in the process," Michel said, taking another bite of his apple.
"How horrible! I'm glad the cops finally got him! Did Christine ever recover?" I asked. For a brief moment, the image of Erik crossed my mind. I immediately dismissed it, however, reasoning that Erik could not possibly be the same man as this Tomislav. After all, I thought, nearly all principle singers are in their forties by the time they get lead roles like Carmen and Don Jose and Tomislav would be far too old to be Erik.
"Yes, she did after some months. Married here lover, Raoul and moved with him to Cuba to get away from Tomislav and I imagine this opera house as well. As for Tomislav, he went to prison and is still there as far as I know," Michel finished saying, as he saw the Bouquets walking towards us. I quickly picked up my plate from the seat next to me, making room for them to sit down.
"Well, did you get enough to eat?" Jean-Baptiste asked as he sat down next to me. "Yes, plenty! Where am I supposed to put my dirty plate?" I asked, looking around the room to see if I could find any trays or bins to put it in.
"I think you can just leave it on your chair. The caterers will be by later on to pick up the plates," Jean-Baptiste said as he started eating. "Madame, have you seen very much yet? There is so much to see," Mme. Bouquet asked as she sat down on the other side of Jean-Baptiste and began eating.
"No, but I would sure like to. Everybody tells me that the costumes people wear to this ball are really something to see. I've only seen some downstairs when I got here and from what I've seen so far, I think everybody is right. Thank you for talking me into coming, Jean-Baptiste. It's been a really...interesting evening, to say the least. Will you all be staying the whole evening?" I asked.
"I don't see why not! We'll all get tomorrow off as is customary, right, Bouquet?" Michel asked as he looked at Jean-Baptiste. "Of course. Everyone has tomorrow off, then it's back to work as usual on Friday. I really hate these mid-week holidays. They really wreak havoc on scheduling," Jean-Baptiste said as he nodded his head and continued eating. "O.K. then. I'll see you guys later," I said as I got up and placed my plate on the chair I had been ssing on. I then left the room and began to explore this wonderful make-believe world.
The crowds had been getting bigger all evening and the costumes were getting more interesting as well. I saw the pizza man in one large salon dancing with a woman dressed as a Las Vegas showgirl. In the hallway as I passed from room to room, I saw a couple dressed as the king and queen of hearts as well as the usual clowns, pirates and harem girls. Costums are the same the world over, I thought as I was pushed by the crowds into another large salon which had a space set aside for dancing. Jean-Baptiste had been right about the dancing as well as the warmth of the rooms. The rooms as well as the hallways were all quite warm, no doubt because of the large number of people in them.
I made my way to the refreshment table where I picked up another cup of punch. Because I found it so warm in the opera house that evening, I had been making stops at the refreshment tables in some of the rooms. This stop made it the fifth cup of punch I drank. Normally, after consumming that much liquid, I find myself needing to go to the ladies' room and this time was no exception. After finishing the cup of punch, I put my cup down on the chair next to where I was sitting and was about to get up when I heard a familiar voice saying, "Well, well. I see you decided to come after all." It was Carlotta speaking to me.
I should have known my luck wouldn't last forever, I thought, but I'd better be nice. Who knows, maybe she'll be nice back for a change. "It's nice to see you this evening, Carlotta. What a lovely costume you have on!" I said as I got up from the chair I had been sitting in.
"Thank you! I like it," she said as she turned around and modelled it for me. She was wearing a pale blue off-the-shoulder ball gown and wore long black lace mitts as well. She did not look at all like a bell, as Michel said she did, but more like one of the Empress Eugenie's ladies-in-waiting. As she finished modelling her costume, she said, "I thought your costume was to be more...ornate. At least you gave that impression."
"The one I had planned on wearing is, but this is what my brother sent me," I replied. "That's right. You left your family behind in America. I remember that now. But what are you supposed to be, cherie? A farmer's wife, perhaps?" she asked.
"Actually, a nurse from the Franco-Prussian War," I replied. Before she could say anything more, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned to see a tall, thin gentleman wearing a beard, dressed as a Union cavalry officer with a blue greatcoat and a large plumed hat, and like all the other party-goers, he wore a mask. He did not say a word but merely bowed and motioned for me to dance with him. I shrugged my shoulders and said to Carlotta, "I'll see you later," and followed the gentleman to the area that served as the dance floor.
The orchestra started playing the Strauss waltz "Southern Roses" and as we began to dance, the gentleman asked softly in my ear, "Do you really want to see her later?"
I pulled away from him for a second, for I recognized the voice. "Maestro! Erik! What are you doing here?" I asked softly as he pulled me to him and we continued to dance. "The same as you, trying to have a good time," he replied as we waltzed. The dance floor began to get crowded and so he began to lead me out of the room. "It's getting warm in here. Perhaps you would like to get some fresh air?" he asked as we left the room.
"Yes, I'd like that," I replied. I looked to see if Carlotta had noticed I was leaving but she seemed engaged in conversation with another woman. Erik led me up a flight of stairs to the next floor and then another flight of stairs as well. Just as there are sevel levels in the basement, there are at least that many stories above ground as well. We kept going up more flights of stairs until we reached a narrow door. He opened it and we found ourselves on the roof of the opera house. "Where have you taken me?" I asked as we walked outside onto the roof.
"To one of my favorite places. Here, you'll need this," he said as he took off his greatcoat and put it around my shoulders. It was made of wool and was still warm from his body. "But what about you?" I asked as we began to walk around.
"Don't you worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm dressed quite warmly," he replied, and then seeing the look of doubt on my face, he added, "I have on an undershirt, a pair of long johns, a long-sleeved shirt, a wool high-necked vest as well as this sackcoat. I'm quite comfortable, I assure you." "No wonder you said it was warm inside! I'd be warm too with all that and a wool greatcoat besides!" I exclaimed.
He merely smiled as we walked around in silence for a few minutes and then stopping, he said, "My dear, I think I should apologize for my behavior several weeks ago..." Before he could say anything more, I spoke up and said, "No, I'm the one who should apologize. I don't know what got into me. Please forgive me. I've missed you terribly." I suddenly threw my arms around his neck and began to cry on his shoulder. I really HAD missed him, far more than I had realized.
He stood absolutely still for a moment with his arms at his side, and then putting his hands on my shoulders, he gently pushed me away from him slightly, and said, "Now, now. Don't cry, my dear. I shouldn't have gotten as angry as I did and I really should have contacted you sooner. I'll forgive your outburst if you'll forgive my boorish behavior. Is it a deal?"
"Deal," I said as I reached into the pocket of my apron and pulled out the handkerchief I had put in it earlier that evening. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose gently. After a moment, I calmed down and after clearing my throat, I asked, "Why is this one of your favorite places?"
"The view," he replied, "Look!" He waved his arm and I looked out. The view of Paris was spectacular, and while I had seen pictures of Paris at night, nothing could compare with the real thing I saw that night. It was a clear night that night, which was rare that winter. I could make out all the major landmarks of Paris; the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomph, Notre Dame cathedral, the Louvre museum and the new opera house right next to it, and off in the distance, Sacre Coeur basilica. I do not know just how long we stood there admiring the view but it seemed only a short time had passed when fireworks started going off in the distance.
"Surely it can't be midnight already?" I asked, surprised that so much time had passed. "Yes. Happy 2002, my dear," Erik replied softly, and then taking my left hand, he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. We stood there for quite awhile, watching the fireworks display and drinking in the panoramic view. Then he said, "All good things must come to an end. I suppose I should take you back down. Your friends will be missing you." As we started back, we came upon another couple who probably had the same idea we had of getting some fresh air, only unlike Erik and I, were passionately kissing each other. For a moment, I thought I saw anger flash in Erik's eyes. He stopped and stood perfectly still for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists. His actions frightened me for I did not know what he would do next. Finally, he said tersely, "Let's go!"
The romantic mood of the evening disappeared and the charm of his company evaporated, for I saw a side of him that night that, unfortunately, I would see later. Now what? I thought tomyself as we quickly passed through the door and walked back downstairs with Erik pulling me more than anything else. We had been walking in complete silence for several minutes, dodging party-goers as we continued going down the same flights of stairs we had ascended earlier. Finally he stopped, his mood suddenly changing as he did so, and said, "Now I find that I must apologize again for my rude behavior just now. Sometimes ghosts from my past come back to haunt me. Please forgive this selfish old man."
"I've never seen you like this before, Erik, and it frightens me. You're a real riddle, sometimes, Erik. I don't know what to make of you! Yes, I'll forgive you but please don't frighten me again like this. I don't know if I can take another episode like this," I replied, somewhat out of breath, for I was really more frightened than anything else.
We resumed walking, at a much slower pace, I must add, but still dodging the other party-goers. Word had gotten around that midnight had arrived and the revelers really picked up the pace of celebrating the new year. Eventually, we reached the same salon we had met in, and Erik asked, "Since the opera house will be closed tomorrow, could we meet Friday morning for your next singing lesson?"
I was still in shock from seeing his abrupt mood swings so all I could manage to say was, "Yes, I'd love to." "Then it's settled. Until Friday, then," he said as he took my hand and kissed it. True to form, he disappeared, melting into the crowd of revelers. I stood there for a moment, still dazed and in shock from his changes in mood and then. collecting myself, I made my way back to the same salon I had left the others earlier in the evening.
Jacqueline saw me and walking up to me, she exclaimed, "Where have you been? We've been looking all over for you!" "Up on the roof, getting some fresh air," I replied, and finding that I was answering with a half-truth, silently berated myself for not telling eveything to Jacqueline.
"On a cold night like tonight and dressed only in that? You REALLY must have gotten overheated. You missed the singing contest. As usual, Carlotta won. It's too bad you weren't here. I was really hoping to see her get some real competition for a change. Are you ready to go home?" I nodded, and she continued, "Let's go downstairs, then, and change clothes. I'm beat." As we went downstairs, she said, "I'm disappointed that you weren't here for the contest." "I really don't sing that well," I said as we changed back into our street clothes in the dressing room, which was still a mess with all the clothes strewn about.
"Nonsense, of course you do! I've heard you singing and for awhile there, you were starting to sound pretty good. Well, I suppose there will be other times. At any rate, I'm ready to go home. It's been quite an evening."
I only nodded my head in silence. More
that you can imagine, I thought as I put my costume back into the bag I
had brought. Because of the holiday, the metro was not running that
night, so we all had to take taxis home. While I could not forget
the spectacular view of Paris from the opera house roof, I also could not
forget Erik's strange behavior. I don't know what sets him off, but
I wish he would control himself better. He's such a strange man,
I thought as my taxi made its way to the Fontaines. I can only hope
this won't happen again.