Settling Old Debts

It has now nearly been a month and a half since the infamous New Year's Masquerade and I have heard barely a peep from our Resident Ghost.

I wonder if he rememebers that he still owes me 375 Euros for the Red Death costume drycleaning services (plus ten percent for the trouble it took on my part to haul that massive outfit to and from his preferred cleaner's shop, which of course is not exactly conveniently located). I shall have to pin a note to Ayesha's collar next time I catch her scurrying about - which she seems to be doing with increased frequency these days; no doubt part of some devious, if perhaps eccentric, scheme of Erik's.

La Carlotta has been particularly troublesome so far this season; screeching at the ballet girls during rehearsals, occupying the width of the entire hallway as she parades through the Opera with her servile entourage, and imperiously demanding all sorts of favors and privileges for her fans from the attendant boxkeeper - which of course would be yours truly.

It is common knowledge that she has planned a lavish dinner with Signore Piangi this evening at La Maison Blanche (she had to book their reservations 8 months ago), in celebration of this irritatingly amorous holiday. I do hope my old friend Marcel, who is ever discreet and works in the kitchen there, will remember to add the 'special ingredient' that I suggested for our diva's entree.

I do hope that Piangi is not averse to the discomfort of scrutiny that is bound to occur when one's dinner companion suddenly, and with increasing frequency, begins to scratch at themselves all over.

For once I'm thankful for Meg's finely-tuned ear for Opera gossip. No wonder Carlotta doesn't want anyone to know about her allergy to asparagus.