Page 48 of Angel's Mask
Dreams
Julianne’s mother wasan incredible cook, Christine had been happy to learn. When Julianne had told her, just yesterday, that Christine wasexpectedfor Christmas dinner, Julianne had made her sound far more formidable. But Élodie Bonet had welcomed Christine into the home she shared with her daughter with open arms and good humor. Her chestnut skin was darker than Julianne’s, and her features were rounder, but her eyes had the same mischievous sparkle, and her laugh was just as warm. She had insisted Christine lead them in carols, before stuffing both girls to the brim with food.
Sitting next to the crackling fire in the little flat, topping off her stomach full of croquembouche with sips of mulled wine, Christine struggled to think of the last time she had felt so content. She certainly remembered the last Christmas she had spent with people, but she had known then it would be Papa’s last and had hidden her tears whenever she looked at him too long.
There had to have been some point, deep in the past, before Papa’s illness, when all the world had been full of dreams and magic and potential, when she had been this blissful. But even that paled in comparison now. Truly, she had never been as happy, day-to-day as she had been in the past weeks. Her days were full of music, her nights were full of pleasure. And it was all thanks to him.
Christine was glad to be with Julianne for the holiday meal, but she also couldn’t wait to be back in the Opera. She would have to go back to Adèle’s tonight, to not raise suspicion. Thanks to that, guilt gnawed at the edges of her contentment. Even more so when she noticed Julianne glancing at the door more and more as the evening wore on.
“She may still come,” Christine said after the tenth such look. “She didn’t say no when you asked.”
“She didn’t say yes either,” Julianne muttered. And as if the world was listening, a knock sounded at the door. Julianne jumped to answer, rushing past her mother as she re-entered the drawing room. When Christine saw Jammes on the other side of the threshold, and Julianne’s grin at the sight, her heart warmed immeasurably.
“I hope I’m not too late,” Jammes said, looking bashful.
“Not at all, my dear,” Élodie replied. She supplied Jammes with a plate of food in a blink, and wine too, and soon they were all seated by the fire.
“You missed the carols,” Julianne said. “It turns out Christine is indeed a better singer than a seamstress.”
“Didn’t you tell me she had the worst sewing you’d ever seen?” Jammes remarked over a sip of wine.
“It wouldn’t have been a lie,” Christine shrugged. “What else do you do for Christmas?”
“Ghost stories of course,” Élodie declared. “And I demand some. Julianne refuses to tell me about your Opera Ghost most days. Says she gets enough at work.”
“Oh, well, Christine is the one with the stories,” Jammes said. “She’s met him.”
“So I have heard,” Élodie said, as sly as her daughter when she looked at Christine.
“I’ve...only seen him a few times,” Christine stammered. She hoped they couldn’t see her blush.
“Well, I’ve changed my opinion on him,” Jammes declared. “If he did push Joseph Buquet off that catwalk, or strangle him or whatever the story is now, God bless him. He did the Opera a service.”
“Here, here,” Julianne said as she raised her cup.
“How can a ghost strangle someone?” Élodie asked, chuckling. “Sounds more like a revenant, if you ask me.”
“Did you hear what that fireman saw just the other day?” Jammes asked, perking up more. “Scared him to death!”
“The fireman?” Julianne asked. Christine had not heard either.
“What could be so terrible as to scare a fireman? They’re brave fellows, aren’t they?” Élodie said.
“Well, he claims he was on his rounds and saw a head floating in the dark in the cellars!” Jammes said breathlessly.
“A...head?” Christine echoed.
“On fire,” Jammes went on. Christine scrunched her face. She’d seen her ghost in his mask, and glimpsed his shining eyes more than once, but a head on fire was quite another thing. “And when to approached him, the dark around it came alive and attacked him. Scratched him all over!”
