Heart of a Phantom

Meg was tired, one more week, she thought and this will be over. Oh..., to be able to sleep, that was all she dreamed about lately…, just to sleep. Meg had sent Chloe’ home earlier, assuring her she would straighten the dressing room before she left the theater tonight. Earlier it had sounded like a good idea; in retrospect, she was not so sure. Her limbs ached more than usual tonight. Picking up the different costumes, Meg began hanging them in preparation for the next performance. She hummed as she worked, occasionally singing the words while she busied herself around the room. Gathering her cloak to leave, someone knocked on her door. Slowly she opened the door recognizing Pedre’. Pedre’s clothes were always in a state of ill repair and usually were accompanied by a foul stench. Meg crinkled her nose but endeavored to be pleasant to him, “Yes Pedre’… do you need something?” Pedre’s grubby smile exposed several broken and rotten teeth, “Well I guess I do girlie. I suggest ye let me in so we can talk. I don’t spect’ you’d be want’n the others to hear what I have to say.” Meg was puzzled. Whatever could he want? Pedre’ worked odd jobs around the stage, but he really did not have much contact with her. Stepping aside Meg allowed Pedre’ to enter. Pedre’ walked about the room idly fingering the delicate costumes Meg wore. Leaning against the door Meg watched him go through her things. When he got to her dressing table Meg’s patience was gone as he fingered through her personal items, “What do you want Pedre’?” “Well that’s simple mademoiselle,” he said snidely, “You’ve got money and I want some of it. Not all of it mind ya, but a large portion of it.” Meg was astonished, “Why in the world would I ever give you money!” Pedre’s smiled twisted, “That would be for keep’s my mouth shut. Ya see I was there the night you left the Opera House in the middle of the night. I watched ya come’n and go’n late at night there for a while. Then one night a man came out with ya, wear’n what looked to me like a mask. All them rumors of the Phantom be’n a ghost an’ here all the time you know’n it was a man.” Now what do ya think the police‘ll say when I tells ‘em about you sneak’n a masked man out of the theater. If I remember right, that masked man murdered a couple of people and kidnapped that girl Christine. There you was help’n a murderer. The police’ll put you in jail for help’n him get away. They’ll even hang ya, just like they’ll hang that Phantom.” Meg’s face turned white as the blood drained from her face. “What do you want?” “Like I said… money. You make a lot more money here than I ever will. So whatever you make from now on you’ll give ta me and I’ll keep my mouth shut. Pedre’ sauntered over to the door lewdly rubbing his genitals. Meg scuttled out of his way, terrified he might put his filthy hands on her. Could he really do as he said? If the police came to her home, the first person they would run into would be Azar, wearing a mask. It would not take the most brilliant person to suspect Azar. If she said anything Pedre’ would assume she was guilty. How could she protect Azar from this? Meg’s panic was quickly overriding her common sense. One thought struck her as odd. Pedre’, for some reason, did not associate her as someone with wealth. He apparently had never realized her connection with Giry Enterprises. Pedre’ never expected an answer from the girl. Her fear of him was evident as she continued to keep the same distance away from him no matter where he walked in the room. Laughing quietly Pedre’ resumed his pilfering through Meg’s things. “I’ll be back tomorrow to get the money after your performance.” Pedre’s eyes narrowed as all expression of amusement left his face, “You cross me girly and I’ll go straight to the police.” Meg’s eyes filled with tears of fright as she watched Pedre’. Pedre’ glared at Meg making sure she understood how serious he was. Then with a snort, he turned and left. Meg sat down into a chair, her knees buckled from underneath her. Shaking Meg put her hand to mouth to stifle the sobs that shook her body. Her eyes were swelled with tears when she left the dressing room. A good thing it was cold for as she left Meg raised the hood of her cloak over her head. Meg held her head down preventing the others from seeing her face in the dim light. Jacque waited for Meg at the coach when she raised her hand to climb in allowing the lamppost to shine directly onto her face. “Miss Meg… ya all right mum?” Reassuringly Meg smiled at him, “Yes… oh of course Jacque… I am just a little moody…, that is all.” “Yes mum,” was all Jacque said. Well now he thought, Miss Meg had never told him a falsehood until now. Whatever’d happened, had happened in that theater. Somebody must have scared her cause she didn’t appear hurt. Course now when women folk was in a family way they was often moody. Pauline’ld know, he’d ask her about Meg. ******* The house was dark when Meg arrived home, as she was later than usual. After Pedre’ had left she had been afraid to leave her dressing room… in fear he might still be there to see she had been crying. Azar and Thomas went out at night, hoping she thought that tonight they were still out. She had dared not let Azar see her like this. Azar would be able to see something had happened. If he found out about Pedre’ there was no telling what he would do. She did not like Pedre’ but she did not want Azar angry… anger could drive him to madness. In madness Azar would kill Pedre’ without a thought… of that, she was certain. Bidding Jacque goodnight Meg made her way quickly upstairs. Softly easing the door open in case Azar was there, she looked around the room. It was evident Azar was not there. Exhaling in relief Meg in haste prepared for bed. Extinguishing the lights, Meg thought how sleepy she had been before Pedre’ had made his unwelcomed visit. Her nerves had her heart still racing. How could she sleep? Pedre’ would never leave her alone. ****** Azar’s evening, to say the least, had been entertaining. Spending his time with Count Pardeno was intolerable. The man flaunted his prowess with women thinking to impress him. The Count was too blind to see the only women around him were ones he had bought and paid for. There were no ladies…, not the ones he would give a title to. Count Pardeno’s women were paid paramours. Azar thought it odd the man had never married. Most men of title and of the Count Pardeno’s age wanted their own son to inherit. Meg would be long asleep, he thought. This was one time he was glad she slept so much now. She would not know how many times he had been staying out so late. ******