GAUDETE

PART SEVEN

It was after eleven and Madame Giry was waiting for them with a sleepy Allegra when they returned.

Christine offered to take her daughter back to bed but the little girl shook her head, rubbing at her eyes and insisting that she was awake. In the drawing room Teddy and Jimmy were already making inroads on a tray of mulled wine; Meg accepted a glass eagerly despite a disapproving glance from her mother. Gratefully Christine and Erik took possession of the sofa, Allegra curling up between them; the wine was pleasantly warming after their cold walk home, the duke's carriage still stuck somewhere in the press of traffic.

"Oh, look!" Meg exclaimed as she twitched back the heavy velvet curtain. "It's snowing again."

Teddy kicked off her shoes and stretched her stockinged feet towards the fire. "The perfect end to a perfect evening."

"You have a very different definition of perfect to mine, Theodora," Erik remarked with a raised eyebrow, and she laughed.

"Oh, I don't know. Mrs Eckhart is absolutely furious, at me and her husband, and that's no bad thing."

Christine frowned. "Do you actually want her to be angry with you?"

"Well, it makes things rather easier for me." Teddy said, with a glance at her manager.

"If Mrs Eckhart complains to the directors of Covent Garden about Teddy - and she will, believe me - it gives her a valid reason to ask to be released from her contract," Jimmy explained. "The management won't be so keen to employ her if they think she's not popular with the patrons."

It must have been the fact that she was tired that made Christine so confused. "But why would you want to be released?"

"Because Louise Labouchiere has walked away, claiming she was employed to sing, not sit around and twiddle her thumbs," said Erik. Allegra snuggled up against him, thumb in her mouth, and he stroked her hair. "Marigny and Fontaine face being left without a prima donna when the opera reopens and they want Theodora back."

"At any price," Jimmy added.

"So you'll be coming back to Paris...?" Christine asked.

"Certainly will, sweetie! Nice as it's been here, and accommodating though the people at Covent Garden are, I've been missing you all too much," Teddy told her with a grin. "I think I can afford to hitch my star to the Populaire for a while longer. And I'm very interested in this new Chalumeau I've heard so much about: Cleopatra, wasn't it? Who wouldn't want to get their teeth into a role like that?"

Erik rolled his eyes. "Wait until you've heard the music."

"And Marius as Marc Antony," Meg added, and he nodded in agreement.

Teddy's brows rose and her smile widened. "I can't wait."

It was rather strange not to be having the traditional Christmas Revellion, the feast at midnight following a church service, but it was a case of when in Rome and Christine didn't find she minded all that much. The fire was warm, and as they talked, although she tried valiantly to stop it she found her head nodding, the rumble of voices fading into the background. The next thing she was aware of was Erik crouching in front of her, shaking her gently, a fond smile on his face. "It's midnight," he said, and she realised the clock on the mantelpiece was chiming. "Merry Christmas."

"Oh, my goodness." She sat up straight and realised Allegra was blinking too, lifting her head out of her mother's lap. "You shouldn't have let me fall asleep!"

"You both looked so peaceful I didn't have the heart to wake you before." He stood, taking Allegra when she held out her arms to be picked up, and offered a hand to Christine. As she glanced around she realised the others were grouped around the piano, and the members of staff who hadn't yet gone to their beds were there as well, glasses of wine in their hands. Much to her surprise, Jimmy was seated on the piano stool, a cigar between his teeth and glass of cognac on the lid.

"What?" he asked when Erik looked at him in disbelief. "I can play this thing."

"He can play one tune," said Teddy. "And that one not very well."

"I've never seen you touch an instrument before," Erik objected, at which Jimmy winked and cracked his knuckles loudly.

"Ah, but I've never needed to. The only tune I can play is a Christmas carol," he said, running a hand dramatically up the keyboard.

Madame Giry winced. "I hope the rest of it isn't like that."

"No," Theodora told her with an authority evidently born of experience. "It's worse."

"Oh, yea of little faith," Jimmy complained around his cigar before launching with great élan into a drunk-sounding version of Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly. Erik's expression was one of extreme discomfort, his delicate musical sensibilities offended, and Christine couldn't help laughing. There were giggles from some of the maids as the tune ploughed on, one wrong note after another; there were so many of them that it seemed Jimmy would have to be able to play well in order to perform so badly.

"See," said Teddy. "Told you."

"Oh, come on," Meg responded with a grin, "It's not that bad."

"True, but the human ear can only stand so much. Oh, Maestro, come and play something decent!" Teddy called when she could take no more. With an amused sigh, Erik passed Allegra to Christine; as he did, she reached up to his mask, lifting it away from his face. He froze, instinctively raising a hand to stop her, only for her to say,

"No, Papa, no sad face. You have to be happy at Christmas, God says so."

"She's right," Christine agreed. He just stared at her, the mask half on, and then she realised he was actually looking at something over her shoulder. She turned slightly to see Baines and Margaret standing there with the rest of the staff. Margaret was smiling broadly while the butler respectfully inclined his head, the merest hint of a twitch around his lips. When Christine returned her gaze to her husband, he had removed the mask completely, laying it down on the piano. He stood there for some moments, face bare, as though waiting for the inevitable scream, but it never came.

Jimmy got up, stepping away from the stool. "All yours, Erik," he said with a bow.

Slowly, Erik sat down in his place. They all waited as his long fingers trailed up and down the keyboard, a snatch of this tune, then that, before a determined look came over his twisted features and to everyone's surprise he began an even more accomplished combination of sharps and flats than Jimmy had done, the whole sounding just right enough for it to be recognisable while at the same time completely wrong. Christine had never heard him play anything so utterly absurd in all the time she had known him, something which in his Phantom days would have been far beneath his dignity, but he seemed to be enjoying it, smiling as Allegra began to laugh, clapping her hands together in delight. Christine let her go and she ran to the piano, climbing up onto the stool beside her father. One hand still on the keys, Erik drew her onto his knee and let her add the odd random note of her own.

"Erik, that is ridiculous," Madame Giry scolded, even though her usual stern demeanour was cracking. "You are playing all the wrong notes!"

"On the contrary," Erik said with perfect seriousness, "I am playing all the right notes. The order I put them in is entirely subjective."

"Maman, it's supposed to be silly," Meg said with a roll of the eyes. "It's Christmas!"

"Perhaps, but there is another side to the day," her mother reminded her. "We should be giving thanks as well as indulging ourselves."

In response, the tempo of the music slowed, becoming more serious. Christine recognised the tune. Erik looked at her, mismatched eyes bright. "Thank you for singing tonight. Will you do so again?"

She smiled. "Of course. Teddy, will you join me?" she asked. "And Meg, you too."

The little diva bustled over, wine glass in hand. "Always happy to oblige. Which words are we singing; French or English?"

"English, I think; the tune is French. Do you know them, Meg?"

"I'll pick it up," Meg assured her. "I know the chorus, anyway."

"Shall I begin?" When they both nodded, Christine took her place in the curve of the piano as the introduction came to an end and raised her voice in praise:

"Angels, from the realms of glory

Wing your flight o'er all the earth

Ye who sang creation's story

Now proclaim Messiah's birth

Gloria in excelsis Deo!

Gloria in excelsis Deo!"

For the refrain Teddy and Meg joined her, the prima donna managing to sustain the soaring eighteen notes of the sequence rather more easily than the ballerina, though Meg put in a valiant effort. Instinctively they each took a verse, one after the other, until they reached the last, upon which they were joined by the voices of everyone in the room. Erik's was distinct amongst them and Christine found herself with eyes for no one but him; seeing their daughter in his lap and knowing that another product of their love was growing within her she put her all into the final words:

"All creation, join in praising

God the Father, Spirit, Son,

Evermore your voices raising,

To th'eternal Three in One

Gloria in excelsis Deo!

Gloria in excelsis Deo!"


It seemed as though Christine had barely closed her eyes when there was a tapping on the bedroom door. What time had they gone to bed? She remembered more carols in the drawing room, The First Noel and God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen, and then Jimmy had insisted on dancing with her to the strains of Under the Mistletoe while one of the footmen accompanied the piano on the mouth organ. There had been toasts and Christmas wishes and Teddy got tipsy and it felt as though morning must be breaking by the time they ascended the stairs. Had she even got any sleep?

The tapping came again.

"Maman? Papa!" a little voice called and beside her she heard Erik groan. Glancing over she saw that he had not even moved in the night and was still laying face down where he had landed when they came to bed.

"You daughter wants you," he mumbled into the pillow.

"My daughter?" Christine repeated. "She's your daughter, too."

He rolled away from her, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "Not at six o'clock in the morning, she's not."

"Maman?" The door opened a crack and there in a bright patch of light from the landing was Allegra in nightdress and warm woollen robe, Clothilde behind her stifling a yawn; she had evidently awoken her nanny even earlier. "Are you awake?"

"No," Erik said distinctly, and Christine pinched him, making him yelp.

"You are awake!" Allegra flew into the room, jumping onto the bed. "Merry Christmas!"

"I'm sorry, Madame," Clothilde said, but Christine just smiled tiredly, taking hold of her daughter.

"It's all right, Clothilde," she replied. "Go back to bed; we'll look after her."

The maid withdrew gratefully as Allegra shook her father by the shoulder. "Papa! It's Christmas morning!" she told him.

He sighed, turning over. "I know, petite. It was when I went to sleep."

"Allegra, it's not even light outside," Christine told her gently.

"That doesn't matter," Allegra said with the conviction of the very young. "There were sweets in my shoe so Pére No?l must have been, mustn't he?"

"If he has any sense at all, he will still be in bed," Erik observed, sitting up and reaching for the lamp. He ran a hand over his hair, trying to flatten it into some semblance of order. Christine bit back a laugh; there was a crease from the pillow right across the left side of his face. "I suppose it would be useless to tell you to go back to sleep until dinner time?" he enquired of his daughter. She nodded vigorously.

Christine hid her smile behind her hand. "I think we have to accept that it's time to get up."


A few minutes later they were down in the drawing room. Although Teddy had given the staff leave to take longer in the morning, evidently someone had expected them to be up as there was already a fire going that took the edge off the chill and in the corner the Christmas tree twinkled magically, all its candles alight. In their absence a pile of brightly wrapped gifts had appeared on a table beside it, the parcels heaped so high they threatened to topple over. Allegra's eyes were huge as she beheld the presents.

"Pére No?l must have been very busy!"

"Indeed he must," Erik agreed. "Why don't you see if any of them are for you?"

She did not need to be told twice, hurrying over to the table. Standing on tiptoe she turned each parcel over carefully, looking at the tags for her name; at last she found two, both exactly the same size and shape, and brought them back to the sofa where her parents were trying not to fall asleep. "May I open them?" she asked hopefully, and at a nod from her father fell to tearing away the paper with enthusiasm.

Christine frowned. "I thought I asked you to buy her just the one doll?" she said, keeping her voice low.

"There was another that caught my fancy," he replied as Allegra opened the first box to reveal the blonde ballerina from Palmer's shop.

"You remembered to tell him!" she cried happily. "Wait until I show Tante Meg I have a doll just like her!"

"I should open the other one first," Erik suggested. She looked confused, and he pointed to the other box. Carefully lifting the lid, she gasped as she discovered nestled inside pink tissue paper another ballerina, this one with dark brown curls and eyes and a pale blue tutu.

"She looks like Maman!" Allegra exclaimed, lifting out the doll so that her mother could see. Christine took it from her; the features had been sculpted with minute attention to detail and looked vaguely familiar.

"I took Mr Palmer your photograph," Erik said softly and she realised that the ballerina's face was indeed her own. "I think he is a craftsman of some considerable skill, don't you agree?"

"I do, but why?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Tante Meg needed a companion, and there was no doll already in the shop that could match you. By the way, as a thank you for his assistance there will be a rather large box of toys following us back to Paris; that elephant gun was extremely well-timed." Before she could respond he leant down to Allegra. "Sweetheart, there is a small package on the table with Maman's name on; would you fetch it for me?"

She did, delivering it proudly and climbing up onto the settee to see what was inside. Christine unwrapped it while they both watched, discovering a velvet jeweller's box. She cast a glance at Erik and he said,

"I hope you like it; Meg was kind enough to give me her opinion and she believed it would be suitable. Unfortunately we were unable to persuade the shopkeeper that I was not buying it for her; he remained convinced that either she was my wife or my fancy woman, much to her amusement."

"So that's why you took her out with you the other day!"

"Of course; why else would I have asked her to accompany me?" He shot the box a pointed look. "Are you going to open it?"

"Yes, Maman, open it!" cried Allegra, bouncing excitedly.

Christine did, and within she found a ring, three delicate bands of gold linked together by diamonds and sapphires. Astonished, she turned to Erik. "I don't - "

"It is an eternity ring," he said, taking the box from her. Almost automatically she held out her hand; he slipped the ring onto her finger, nestling it there next to her wedding band. "I wanted to say thank you for suffering my moods and insecurities. I know I am not the... easiest person to live with."

"Maybe not, but I would want no one else." She lifted her free hand to brush his cheek, and he smiled.

"Of course, this does now mean you are bound to me for all eternity," he told her in a dangerous tone. "There is no escape."

She laughed. "I thought I pledged that the first time." Holding out her hand she regarded the ring, and watching the gems wink softly in the firelight. "It's beautiful; thank you."

"I'll tell Meg she has impeccable taste, then, shall I?"

"Yes. Though it will probably go to her head." Christine reached up to peck him on the lips before she admitted, "I do have a gift for you but I'm afraid I wasn't able to wrap it."

His eyebrow arched. "Oh? Is it so very large?"

"Not exactly." She took hold of his hand and he frowned as she guided it to her stomach, resting it there on the slight swell that was all she so far had to feel. "It's in here, and you won't be able to open it for a few months yet."

"Christine," he said slowly, meeting her gaze, "Does this mean..?"

She nodded. For a long moment he just stared at her, eyes wide, and then suddenly she was in his arms, being tightly embraced. Relief flooded through her as he held her to him for a long time, until at last he drew away, tilting her chin up with one long finger and kissing her gently.

"Do I take it you're happy, then?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Ecstatic," he murmured. "I'd begun to think there really was something wrong with me, that Allegra was some kind of fluke - "

"There's nothing wrong. This angel just took a little longer to get here, that's all."

"What angel?" Allegra's voice reminded them that they weren't alone.

Christine sat back, Erik's arm still around her waist, and drew her daughter on to her lap. "You're going to have a little brother or sister," she said. "Won't it be nice, to have someone to play with?"

Allegra frowned. "I don't have to let them play with my new dolls, do I?"

"Not just yet. They won't be big enough for quite a while."

She seemed to consider this, gnawing on her thumb, before at last she nodded. "I suppose it's all right, then."

"Thank goodness for that," Erik said, amused. "This is one Christmas present it would have been very difficult to return."

"Ah, so you are up!" Meg trilled as she came into the room. She regarded the three of them, curled up together on the sofa in their dressing gowns, and shook her head. "At least, I thought you were; now I'm not so sure. You look as though you should still be in bed!"

"Don't suggest it; Erik will probably go back upstairs," Christine said, glancing at her husband, whose eyes had drifted closed. "Whatever happened to the man who stayed up all night working a few weeks ago?"

"He is completely reformed," he told her. "As I have been told repeatedly of late, there are more important things than the opera."

"I am very glad to hear you say that." Madame Giry had followed Meg and Christine couldn't help blinking in surprise: in a dark blue robe with her hair falling down her back in two waist-length plaits, the ballet mistress looked ten years younger. "It's about time."

Erik didn't move. "And a Merry Christmas to you, too, Annie."

Meg drew back the curtain. It was gradually becoming lighter outside and they could see the garden, covered in a thick layer of fresh snow. Allegra slid from Christine's lap to look for herself. "Can I go out and play?" she asked, nose pressed to the glass.

"Maybe later," Madame said, turning her gently away, towards the Christmas tree. "For now you can help Meg hand out the presents."

The mention of presents reminded Allegra of her dolls. "Tante Meg! Come and see my ballerinas," she insisted, tugging at Meg's hand.

"I thought I heard voices. You people get up far too early," Teddy announced, appearing in a profusion of pink silk and feathers as the real dancer was admiring her toy counterparts. Behind her came a bleary-eyed Jimmy. "What time is it?"

"No time for sensible people to be moving about," he replied, sinking heavily into an armchair and wincing when a log loudly toppled in the fireplace, sending a profusion of sparks up the chimney.

She tutted. "I told you to stop drinking that mulled wine."

"It obviously doesn't mix well with brandy," Erik observed, opening one eye, eliciting a moan from his friend.

Teddy rang the bell. "I'll see if there's anyone around to make you some coffee," she told Jimmy. "Next time, I'm hiding the cognac. I don't think I got a wink of sleep; your snores were earth-shattering."

"Thank you. Any chance of unwrapping the presents quietly?" he pleaded as Allegra trotted past distributing gifts.

They did their best, trying to keep the crackling of paper to a minimum. There were bonbons and candied fruits, handkerchiefs and slippers; some of the results of Madame Giry's knitting became clear when shawls were unwrapped, and socks for Erik and Jimmy. Allegra added a miniature carriage for Cesar to pull, a jigsaw and a collection of fairy tales to her haul; Meg was overjoyed with the new pointe shoes her mother had asked Teddy to procure from a very prestigious shop in the West End.

"Just think," Christine said as she watched her daughter discover a picture book which she took to Theodora, who began to look through it with her. "Next year there will be two."

"I suppose that means I'll get even less sleep," Erik remarked, and she gently smacked his arm.

"I seem to recall that not so long ago a lack of sleep didn't bother you. How many times did I come down to your house to find you'd been up all night, caught by inspiration?"

"Too many. Thankfully, these days I have more to live for than just music. And inspiration strikes at a much more congenial hour." He smiled ruefully. "I think I'm getting old."

"I hope not," she told him with feeling. "I'm going to need you to run after Allegra when I'm too slow to do it."

He frowned. "You know, I'm sure fathers in normal families don't do that kind of thing. Shouldn't I be sitting in an armchair, reading the newspaper while the children bring me my pipe and slippers?" he asked, and she laughed.

"Since when have we ever been a normal family?"

Erik considered that. "Hmm," he said at length. "Point taken."

The coffee was delivered; Madame went to the door to take it and poured a cup for Jimmy, who accepted it with a grateful smile. Humming to herself, Meg wandered over to the piano and hesitantly picked out I Saw Three Ships. Teddy had been persuaded by Allegra to sit on the hearthrug, turning the pages of the new book, but both looked up when they became aware of the tune; quietly, mindful of Jimmy's hangover, Teddy began to sing, followed soon after by Allegra's little voice,

"I saw three ships come sailing in

On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day

I saw three ships come sailing in

On Christmas Day in the morning."

It was nice, Christine thought as she listened, sitting here with all the people she cared about, just sharing the morning in a way that never happened the rest of the year. She would have been quite happy to remain here all day, just being lazy, for now with nowhere to rush off to and nothing to do.

"Erik," she murmured, her fingers tracing lacy circles over the velvet collar of his dressing gown, "What would you say if I told you I was thinking of returning to the stage?"

His eyes, which in the warmth of the fire had drifted closed again, fluttered open. "I would say that was wonderful, but what about..?" He gestured in the vague direction of her stomach.

"Oh, I don't mean right away; in a year or two, maybe. And just for occasional performances; I don't want to entirely abandon our children."

"And nor should you," he agreed. His forehead creased. "But not so long ago you told me our family was the most important thing in your life. What has changed?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. When we were rehearsing it was like the old days and I realised I miss them. I suppose I just enjoyed having you to myself for a change; it's been a long time."

"Too long." There was a definite gleam in his eye now, one she hadn't seen in a while. "Have you a role in mind?"

"Definitely not Elissa. Or Cleopatra," she added quickly. "I'm tired of singing other people's music. I'd like you to write something for me. An opera."

"An opera..?" Erik just stared at her in surprise for a moment before he chuckled, leaning his twisted cheek against hers. "Are you sure? Remember what happened to the last one..."

"Maybe you could write about that: our story, a grand, gothic romance."

He shook his head. "No, I think that would be deemed far too fantastical for the stage."

"One day, perhaps," Christine said with a smile.

"Perhaps." He gave her a sidelong glance. "When the world is ready for such a tale."

"Then let us all rejoice again

On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day

Then let us all rejoice again

On Christmas Day in the morning."

Allegra applauded as the song came to an end. "Another!" she demanded. "Sing another one!"

"Ask your parents," Theodora said, returning to her chair. "Tante Teddy is done for now. I need some of Uncle Jimmy's coffee."

"Would you like to go to Venice?" Erik asked softly, and this time it was Christine's turn to start in surprise. When she just looked at him he raised his lone eyebrow. "I believe I am supposed to have taken you there in the spring..."

"I've been meaning to have a word with Meg about that," she said, shooting her friend a mock glare. Meg, though unaware of the reason, just looked innocent, sitting down beside her mother and draping an arm around Madame's shoulders. Christine turned back to Erik, meeting his gaze seriously. "Do you really mean it? You've been promising to take me there for years."

"Well, I am supposed to be taking a holiday, am I not?" he reminded her.

Though she would like nothing better, concern for him held her back; Venice was a very busy city. "Won't you feel exposed amongst all those people?"

Amazingly, the idea didn't seem to bother him unduly. "We'll go for Carnevale; everyone wears a mask. It will be a few weeks more before the Populaire is open again, and if nothing else it will enable you to answer any questions certain of our friends might have."

"I hope it will be more relaxing break than this one. I don't think the last week has been quite what the doctor had in mind when he told you to rest."

"Bother the doctor," Erik said with feeling, and for once Christine couldn't help but agree.

"Maman! Papa! You're not listening!" Allegra called, a pout on her little face, evidently annoyed that their attention was on each other instead of her.

Immediately Erik looked contrite. "Apologies, petite. What have we missed?" he asked. She got up and climbed onto the sofa, wiggling herself between them.

"You have to sing a Christmas carol," she told him. "It's your turn."

"I don't know many carols, sweetheart. Why don't you ask your mother?" he suggested.

"Oh, thank you," Christine mouthed as her daughter looked up at her expectantly. "Your father can pick up a tune almost immediately; I'm sure he can manage to join in," she said.

"We'll all join in," Meg added before Erik could object, though Jimmy looked less than enthusiastic. "What's it to be, Christine?"

She regarded the room thoughtfully, taking in the tree, the greenery trailing across the mantelpiece, the wrapping paper crumpled on the floor. With her family and friends around her, the glow of the fire and the twinkling candle light slowly fading against the pale encroach of the morning, and hearing the bells that were ringing all over the city, there could only really be one carol that was appropriate.

"Sing we now of Christmas,

Noel sing we here.

Hear our grateful praises

To the babe so dear.

Sing we Noel, the King is born, Noel!

Sing we now of Christmas, sing we now Noel!"

FIN


And that's your lot!

Merry Christmas!