Love Songs

By Alice Levine

Love Songs is set in the ’80s on a cruise ship. Melody is a twenty-year-old pianist with a secret, which threatens her happiness and that of someone she cares for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984553188

Alice Levine

Author Bio coming soon.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Alice Levine.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 09/22/2018

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Dedicated to my children

Judith

Jean

Laban

Susan

Sol

And to my beloved Bert

CHAPTER ONE

Melody Barrett, a slim dark-haired young woman in a dress of emerald silk, paused at the rail of the cruise ship to catch one last view of the island of Santorini. The sun had already set behind the tiny Greek village perched high on its lava cliff. Under the gleaming topping of white buildings it resembled a frosted cake, Melody thought, as she stood there, transfixed.

While she watched, an ancient fishing boat deposited a single passenger on the platform at the side of the ship where a white-suited officer waited to assist him in ascending the ladder to the deck. The green luster of Melody’s frock and the ebony gleam of her wind-tossed hair drew the attention of the new arrival to her high-breasted figure standing above him. As his level grey eyes scrutinized her, something in his gaze caused an inner stirring in Melody. As his eyes met hers, a tremor coursed through her body.

Who was this attractive man with the penetrating glance? Why had he joined the cruise as it was about to end?

Without warning the breeze tugged at her dress and blew it up around Melody’s hips. While she struggled to pull down her skirt her purse flew out of her hand and fell over the rail. Casually, as if he were playing ball, the visitor stretched out his hand and caught it in midair. Amusement lighted his face as he stepped onto the deck and offered her the small silken bag.

I believe this is yours, he said in a low resonant voice.

Still clutching her skirt with one hand, Melody accepted it and murmured her thanks, lowering her eyes in embarrassment under his sensuous gaze. How could I have been so careless? she asked herself. He must think I dropped my bag on purpose.

The moment passed quickly, for the captain arrived and directed him to the dining room where the festivities marking the end of the cruise were under way.

The following week the S.S. Stella would sail to the Caribbean to begin the winter season when Melody would entertain at the piano as she had done on this cruise of the Aegean islands. Melody had won an enthusiastic following on the ship as a classical pianist. The passengers seemed to enjoy her daily concerts which she performed on the grand piano in the lounge. Since she was not required to play tonight, she had dressed for pleasure. Her short cocktail gown was slit up one side revealing a shapely leg that tapered to slender ankles and to feet shod in silk sandals. On one hand she wore an opal ring that had belonged to her mother, and on the other was a diamond solitaire that her sister Harmony had given her only two months before she died. She touched the ring sadly, then pushed that memory aside with a toss of her dark hair. She felt the need to dress up and enjoy herself to lighten the load that pressed against her heart whenever she thought of her sister. She would force herself to be cheerful tonight, Melody promised herself, as she descended the stairs toward the gaily-decorated dining room.

Constantine, the portly maître d’, waited at the foot of the steps in uniformed splendor, greeting her with a practiced smile and his usual compliment. You look beautiful, Miss Barrett, but where is the little princess?

April is already asleep, Melody told him. The childrens’ operator is listening in case she awakens. This was a big day for her. She rode up the mountain on a mule and then walked down all eight hundred steps this afternoon.

Constantine laughed as Melody described the mule ride, a traditional tourist must at Santorini. When she asked about his wife back in Athens his face fell. Her sister is staying with her, he said gloomily.

She must cheer her up, said Melody.

But she eats everything in sight, Constantine grumbled.

Melody smiled. It can’t be that bad.

No? She weighs three hundred pounds!

Melody laughed and followed him to a table of young people who had saved her a place. As he seated her he whispered. I hope you will be with us for the winter cruise. You are everyone’s favorite.

Melody thanked him and was soon engaged in a lively discussion with the others about the cruise and tomorrow’s debarkation in Piraeus, the port city for Athens. But despite the easy camaraderie among the musicians and tour guides at Melody’s table, she frowned occasionally as she thought about the week ahead when she must fly to the States for a concert in Florida, a concert which she regretted having arranged.

As a child, Melody had performed with her sister Harmony in a professional duo-piano team. Since the break-up of their partnership five years ago Melody had attempted to build a career as a soloist, a pursuit necessitated by the death of her parents. Now, at twenty, with only a small income from her cruise appearances, Melody could not afford to cancel the Florida engagement.

Her thoughts drifted to April, the sleeping child in her cabin, whose safety she might be jeopardizing by returning to the States. She shivered at the thought.

Chilly, Melody? asked Angelo, a member of the band, who offered her his jacket.

No, thank you, Angelo. I was just worrying about next week. I’m not looking forward to my flight back to the States.

It’ll be over before you know it, he told her.

Melody answered his reassuring words with a smile, and pulled her thoughts back to the faces around her. These were her friends, she knew, but she had not told them the truth about April. She had let them believe that the child was hers and that she had divorced her husband. Sooner or later they would learn the truth, but the subterfuge had been necessary. She had done everything she could to make the trip safe for April. Their passports were in order. The taxi would meet them in time to catch the early flight from Athens. Nothing should happen to draw attention to April and herself. They would look like ordinary travelers.

Angelo touched her shoulder. You haven’t eaten a thing, he scolded, and again Melody concentrated on the circle of faces at the table. Demetra, the head chef, had outdone himself. Huge platters of red mullet trimmed with olives were borne in by the smartly uniformed waiters. Melody was one of his favorites so she was careful to taste each dish. She eyed the moussaka approvingly, and though she did not usually drink she found it impossible to resist the champagne as her friends created one toast after another. One to the end of the cruise and another to the drummer whose wife was expecting their first baby. Melody’s glass was refilled again and again as the toasts continued.

All at one she rose to her feet, swaying slightly, holding her glass aloft. I have a toast, she announced.

Hear, hear, her friends replied.

To friendship. And she looked at them lovingly, her good friends.

Opa! responded everyone at the table. All the heads in the dining room turned to watch Melody, the darling of the entire ship. The dining room rang to a Greek chorus of opas as Melody held her glass higher to include everyone in the room.

Her graceful gesture and exuberance did not escape the notice of the new arrival. The visitor’s lean jaws and narrowed grey eyes gave him the appearance of a man of the world. In his well-tailored dark suit he might have been a high-paid executive on a business trip. At first glance the newcomer seemed relaxed and easy-going, but under his quiet exterior and easy manner seemed to lie an inner tension, and his eyes reflected the excitement generated by the lovely Melody whose vivacity and lustrous beauty had captured everyone’s attention. From across the room Melody sensed his interest.

Eventually the musicians from Melody’s table left to arrange their instruments in the lounge in preparation for the gala. Besides the pianist who set up a short electric keyboard next to the grand piano, there was Angelo, the bass player, Sarantis, the drummer, and George, the guitarist, who doubled on the bazouki for Greek music. Soon the guests drifted from the dining room into the lounge, some people gathering at the tables circling the floor. Tonight they were being treated to a staff performance headed by Demetra, the chef, a good-natured Athenian with a penchant for dancing. Across the room, the recent arrival nursed his glass of champagne and observed the festivities from a corner table as Demetra emerged at the head of his troupe.

His waiters and stewards followed, dressed in Greek costumes complete with embroidered black waistcoats, long-sleeved blouses tucked into their stiff short skirts, and pompoms bobbing above their shoes. Accompanied by George playing his inlaid bazouki, they began with a mournful Greek love song. Then came the folk dances punctuated by dramatic pauses and vigorous leaps.

It was a congenial crowd. After only a few days together strangers had become friends. Only the newcomer sat alone, a quizzical expression on his lean face as he watched the dancers. Melody knew he was interested in her from the way his eyes rested on her at dinner. Was he married? Would he dance with her later?

After the staff completed its performance Melody joined the guests in their applause and left the lounge. She would return later after the social dancing had begun. The handsome stranger had disappeared from his corner table. Melody sighed and returned to her cabin where a rosy-cheeked girl of four lay sleeping.

How beautiful she is, Melody thought. The chubby hand under the pink cheek was moist with perspiration, and light brown curls clung wetly to her face. How unfair that her mother couldn’t live to enjoy such a treasure. Tears sprung to Melody’s eyes as she remembered her sister. She wiped away her tears and fell back on her own bed. What if Clint Jackson, her sister’s husband, finds us? I must take the child where he can’t reach us, she decided. I’ll change our names. And get a job teaching music in some small out-of-the-way place.

As she lay there thinking up plans for herself and April, the image of the handsome stranger intruded. Would she see him again tonight? Her face grew warm at the memory of his hot eyes on her in that first glance. She stood at the mirror and brushed her dark hair into a silky mane. Then she applied a touch of green eye shadow to her eyelids and a dab of mascara on her already heavy lashes. And, finally, a hint of lipstick on her full lips. She smiled at her reflection. It felt good to know she had the power to interest a man of distinction.

She glanced at the sleeping child. She would never forget her promise to her sister Harmony. Never. But tonight she would enjoy being an attractive woman. A desirable woman.

She could hear the noise of the party below as she left her cabin to join the funmakers. She remembered the admiring glances she had received at dinner, and her eyes, usually somber during recent days, sparkled as she recalled the incident at the railing when the exciting stranger had caught her glance and caused such a turmoil inside her.

At the entrance to the lounge she peered at the gathering. Disappointment tugged at the corners of her lips when she failed to see the handsome newcomer, but her own arrival brought an immediate succession of admirers eager to claim her as a dance partner. Soon she was a blur of green silk. Finally the elderly purser engaged her in a slow fox trot.

My dear Melody, you are a vision tonight.

Melody patted his shoulder affectionately. Aristotle, you flatterer.

Slightly dizzy from the champagne, Melody was enjoying the dance with the friendly grey-haired Aristotle. This was the first evening she had allowed herself to relax and have fun. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure of the dance. But as they spun around the floor his hand released hers. And when they paused in the center of the floor she felt the presence of a new partner. Her pulse quickened and she knew his identity even before she looked into his face.

The attractive stranger had cut into their dance. He stood before her so close she could see the monogram on the handkerchief in his breast pocket, and smell his pungent shaving cologne. Her eyes fell on a tiny gold heart dangling from the heavy gold chain on his wrist. It must have been the gift from an admirer, she thought. Such a man must have many women throwing themselves at him. Timidly she looked up into his face where a nerve pulsing in his jaw sent a thrill through her. A lock of his almost golden hair fell over his eyebrow as he watched her with a half smile. She looked at his sensuous lips and trembled.

May I have this dance, lovely lady? he murmured in his low resonant voice.

Melody stared into his eyes without answering.

I believe you owe me this dance for saving your purse.

Melody answered him somberly. I suppose I do.

I’ve waited for you all evening.

The instant the grey-eyed stranger with his quiet yet forceful manner took her in his arms she felt herself losing control of her emotions. What’s happening to me? she asked herself. I’ve been admired and flattered every day on this cruise. Now just the sight of this man thrills me. And I don’t even know his name.

Something in the way he looked at her caused a revolution inside her. Each movement he made created the most pleasurable anguish as his body pressed against hers in rhythm to the music. She felt herself succumbing to urgent feelings deep inside herself. He moved easily and with such authority. He was a marvelous dancer – firm yet gentle. As they danced Melody became more and more immersed in his embrace.

You dance well, he whispered. Looking into her eyes, he said slowly, we dance well. He pulled her closer. As they grew more certain of each other’s motions Melody felt herself melt into his arms. Her thighs warmed against his; her breast pressed against his body; her face touched his. Her unknown partner’s right hand rested lightly in the small of her back, moving lower and lower until it lay against her hip, pressing her closer. Finally he tucked her right arm around his neck and slipped his own left hand around her shoulders. Now they were so close they moved in a single sinuous embrace. Melody shut her eyes and gave herself up to the total voluptuousness of their dance.

Unexpectedly, the band ended the set and struck up the chorus of Auld Lang Syne. Startled, they stood apart for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. Melody gazed at his mouth as if it held a message for her, while over the microphone the voice of Irene, the entertainment director, bade everyone goodbye, and urged them to kiss their partners in a final recognition of the cruise’s end. The room rang with the delighted screams of the crowd eager to