Fallen Angels - Chapter Four

Chapter 4

An Argument *Paris 1868*

 

 

*sigh* Meg frowned, glancing around at the other ballerinas, growing impatient. Ashamed, she turned her gaze back to the door, once again resuming her watch. Again Christine was late for one of their practices. Meg knew that if she kept this routine, they would never perform.

She looked up, towards her mother's fierce eyes. Madame Giry had a way of sneaking up on unsuspecting people, and she usually enjoyed their surprise. But now, she saw the worry in her daughters face, instead of the few moments of fear. "Meg, I do not like that she is late...." she started as if lecturing, but then quickly changed to a more understanding tone," but if she shows up, it will count as a practice all the same."

Meg smiled pitifully, but then turned her gaze back down towards her feet. "I am worried about that mother, it is true, but....." she looked away feeling her face turn red.

Madame Giry had never seen her daughter act in such a way; she felt a deep concern for what was causing such agony. "Meg, did something happen to Christine that you’re not telling me?" The petite blonde, having kept all of her stress bottled up, immediately reacted to her mother's question.

"Yes, last night, I made the suggestion that Christine go down to the chapel to light a candle for her father....." she then stopped in her haste to release the pressure and sighed.

Madame Giry, not seeing the problem, said, "Well that was a grand idea? I wonder why I hadn't thought of it before. So what is the problem?"

Meg, her face now furrowed with concern, looked into her mother's eyes, "I went to sleep before she returned, and when I woke up, her face was flushed and she had a nasty bruise on her left shoulder. It looked like a handprint. I worry that something might have happened last night while she walked the opera house alone." She turned her face away, feeling guilty in spite of herself, "I think that if I had gone with her, whatever happened might not have occurred. I just hope she’s alright......" her face dropped into her hands as she began to cry.

Madame Giry, feeling genuinely terrible for her daughter, tried to comfort her. She hugged her between the tears, then brought Meg's face up to hers. "Darling, you being there would not have helped cope with her father's death anymore than you not being there. Whatever happened, at least Christine is still alive."

Just then, Christine walked in smiling as if the world was good, "Did you just say my name? Sorry I'm late again, I promise, it won't happen anymore." Meg's jaw dropped in at first relief, then curiosity. "Christine, are you alright? What happened last night?"

Christine answered her without even the slightest flinch, "I went to the chapel, like you said, and it really helped Meg. More than you could ever imagine. Thank you for suggesting I go." She threw her arms around her devastated friend, who was still gawking at her subtleties.

"But Christine...." Meg gasped, frustrated, "What about the bruise I saw?" As she waited for Christine to answer she looked down and saw the locket reflecting the light from the nearest window. "And what is that hanging around your neck; I have never seen you wear any type of jewelry before!" Christine clasped the locket in her hands and started to back away, "It was a gift, and I shall say no more."

Madame Giry, watching all of this, felt that because this conflict needed to be solved, and that she too wanted to know of Christine's wounds, interrupted the two, "Take this to your rooms, you’re excused from today's practice. I have to work with other girls, but I want you two to talk this out, and then report to me later." She turned sharply leaving the girls to mind her words.

Meg took Christine's hand in hers, and led them both down the stairs to their room. She walked Christine to the middle of the floor, lit two more candles, shut the door, and then started her chain of questions once again. "Did someone get into the room last night? Where is the key to the door?" Christine, growing annoyed answered, "It is safe under my pillow where it is always kept!" Now Meg became annoyed, "Christine, I know that something must have happened. At first I thought you just had bad dreams, but now the bruises and your presents! I just want to know what’s going on. Tell me the truth; you know you can trust me with anything!" Meg looked at her friend's face, taking Christine's hands into her own, trying to reassure her with a gentle touch.

Christine quickly flinched, and pulled away, letting a tear escape her modest face. "I told you...." she let out, her voice wavering, "...nothing happened. I just had a conversation with my father, and came to bed." Meg frowned, feeling that there still wasn't something she was telling her. "Well what of the locket then, hmmmmm? And the bruise on your shoulder, is your conversation with your father responsible for that too?" She could hear her voice growing sarcastic, but didn't care. She just wanted to know what was so disturbing that her best-friend would not tell her the truth about it.

Christine turned her face, suddenly feeling an anger rising, "I tell you all that I know, what more can I give? The rest there is to tell, you would not believe. You would think of me as an old hag rambling nonsense like Buquet." She turned back towards the mirror, a slight breeze brushed against her face, drying the tears staining her cheek. Feeling a sudden reassurance in her actions, she returned her anger towards Meg.

"You may remain my friend, for I do care about you still. But I will not have someone around me, that does not believe what I tell them the first time, whether it is true or not!" She ran to her bed, filled with such a feeling that she could not make out even to herself. Was she angry, or frustrated? Was she in denial or as confident as she seemed? The answers, to her, only seemed to lie with the locket that she still grasped in her hand.

She smiled, putting all her focus into tracing the lines of the letters engraved there with her index finger: Angel of Music

Meg was at first disgusted with her own trust, then disgusted with Christine's trust in her. "A true friend knows when their friend is lying, and they also care enough as to know why, and what really is the truth. So, keep to yourself with your precious locket and conversations. Just know that I will be here when they can assist you no longer!" With that, Meg turned, leaving Christine to her own thoughts.

She slammed the door shut behind her, blowing out great deals of breathe through her teeth, her anger welling up inside her.

Madame Giry, now done with practice, was making her way down the hall to her daughters' room. She was still very upset with what had happened between the two during practice, she was eager to find out how they had worked it out, and what was Christine's story.

She looked up, and saw Meg storming down the hall. Not noticing the girl's frustration, Madame Giry walked up and smiled, "Hello darling, so what happened with....... what's the matter?" Now as the woman drew closer to Meg, she saw that she was crying tears of anguish. Meg threw her fists at her sides, trying to control her fits.

"I hate being a friend to such a worry-sick puppy! I wish her and her problems would just disapeer all together," she then looked down at her feet, feeling sorry for herself, "along with her idiotic conversations......"

Madame Giry embraced her daughter, smiling, having seen this type of feud many times before, "You know you don't mean that!" She then pulled out of the hug and grabbed Meg's shoulders, turning very serious, "Now, just tell me what happened to Christine last night."

Meg, who was at first starting to calm down, felt disgusted and deprived of her own feelings. She looked at her mother's face, not knowing who to despise more, "Ask her yourself, maybe she will actually tell you the truth!" Meg forced her mother's arms away and ran down the hall, pushing her face into her hands to stop the swelling of tears disrupting her features. Madame Giry felt lost in the emotions, and decided to come back later that night, while Meg was asleep, to take her daughter's advice. Maybe she should ask Christine what happened for herself, and find out what was causing such conflict between the two.