Page 36 of Angel's Flight
“Have you talked her out of her hysterics?”Pauline purred as she caught Christine’s eye.
“Help me with her,” Christine ordered Jack and wrench Pauline up by the arm, holding her tight enough to smart.At least she could make her hurt as they dragged her to the door down to the cellar.God, Erik wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow – did she need to find this creature a bucket?Food?How was she to eat if she was bound?
“Having second thoughts, Christine?”Pauline asked.“You look ill.”
“I’ll make you look worse if you keep talking,” Christine spat back.Her captive only laughed as they shoved her into the dark.
“You would know about monstrous looks, wouldn’t you, dear?”Pauline called as they shut the door on her.
Christine leaned against it once it was locked, sighing and looking at Jack.“I need to get tickets as soon as possible for New York.”
Paris
“Ineed to talk to someone,” Meg blurted out as she and Rochelle left rehearsals.Blanche and Marie were ahead of them, talking amongst themselves, and Meg had seized the opportunity to confess to her friend.
“You seem quite capable of that,” Rochelle replied, cool and calm as ever.
“About the—” Meg lowered her voice, “the ghost.”
“Are you still on about that?”Rochelle laughed.“Do you think he handled Sabran like he did my dear Tremblay?Again, we should be grateful.”
“I do think that, and I think there’s more to this,” Meg countered.
“Then go talk to them,” Rochelle said, nodding at Blanche and Marie.
“I don’t want to endanger them and you—” Meg gulped as Rochelle gave her a withering look.“I need help in this from someone strong,” Meg countered.“Someone else who has seen him and knows he’s...more.”
“I saw a shadow, Meg.”But Rochelle looked dubious, and she had stopped walking, allowing Meg to draw her into a quiet corner.“But I guess this is more interesting than gossip about who will be cast in the new productions.”
“Do you remember the note I showed you?That I took from my mother?”Meg asked, her heart beginning to speed up.“Sabran was on it, and he was assaulted just like Tremblay.”
“Yes, that was curious,” Rochelle muttered.
“I hid the note in a prop room, and it was taken,” Meg hissed.“The ghost wrote to tell me to stop!”
“And why haven’t you?!”Rochelle squawked.“Dear lord, Meg.Two grown men far stronger than you have been seriously hurt.If the ghost has warned you to stop interfering, you should listen.”
“It doesn’t feel right!”Meg protested.“I need to know what’s happening and why now.I need to talk to someone who knows more than me.”
“That’s a long list,” Rochelle sighed.“Why not ask your mother?She’s his box keeper.”
“She’d only scold me,” Meg sighed.“Do you think Jammes might know more than she lets on?”
“Why Jammes?”Rochelle asked.“Because she’s been even more horrid since we reopened?”
“She was close friends with Julianne Bonet – and she was Christine’s dresser.”
“Then talk to her, you ninny.”
“She quit, don’t you remember?”Meg said.“No one has seen her since the night the chandelier fell.If she were around, she’d be my first interview.”
“I didn’t realize she was gone,” Rochelle muttered, and Meg glared at her.“Oh, don’t be dramatic, costumers come and go as fast as choristers.Though now that you mention it, I heard a rumor about her – she was seen talking to the Persian.So was Jammes, I think.Why not talk to him?”
“The Persian?”Meg echoed.Everyone knew of the strange foreign man who came and went throughout the Opéra.He had not been seen backstage for a while, but he had a new box, which had been a topic of gossip for a brief period.Monsieur Gabriel had even seen the ghost and the Persian talking together in the hall once.
“Mademoiselle Giry!”Meg nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of her name in such a deep voice.“I was hoping to find you.Good day, Mademoiselle Moreau.”
It was d’Amboise, the patron who had told them about Tremblay.His hair was slick against his head, and Meg could smell the cologne wafting off him in waves.
