Eternal Melody

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Eternal Melody Page 21

by Anisa Claire West


  Flustered, she asked, “Luke, why are you here? Why didn’t you leave with the others?”

  “Because someone had to accompany you on the next train, which doesn’t leave for another two hours, by the way, so we have some time to spare.”

  “But how did you know I would be here?”

  “I didn’t, but I assumed you would show up at some point. Earlier this morning, Ryan and I had a bit of a misunderstanding, as I thought he was going to take you to the station.”

  “And he thought you were going to.” Rebecca concluded. “So he left with everyone else?”

  “Yes, including your grandmother, who was very worried and quite furious with both of us. I promised her that I would stay behind and see you safely to Italy.”

  Luke spoke matter-of-factly and with just the slightest bit of arrogance. It sounded to Rebecca as though he thought he were doing her a tremendous favor.

  “Aren’t you the gentleman?” Rebecca bit sarcastically. “Last night, you chauffeur a convict to the train station, and today you have volunteered as my chaperone. It must make you feel very special to be doing such good deeds one after the other.”

  Luke regarded her with a disappointed frown and retorted, “You’re quite the ingrate, aren’t you Rebecca? Do you suppose that it would be wise for you to travel alone to Italy?”

  “I’m sure I would manage just fine on my own!” She exclaimed defiantly.

  “Be realistic, Rebecca. You wouldn’t know where to begin once the train pulled into Venice.” He said in a tone so patronizing that Rebecca almost throttled him there on the spot.

  “Pardon me, but may I remind you that I am a perfectly literate individual capable of reading a map! I don’t need you to hold my hand in a foreign country. In fact, I wish you had taken the early train because I cannot bear the idea of being in your company for another moment!” Rebecca huffed as Luke started to laugh uncontrollably. When tears of mirth filled his brown eyes, she demanded, “Are you off your rocker? Whatever did I say to amuse you?”

  Through riotous bellows of laughter, Luke muttered, “You’re jealous.”

  “What?!”

  “I’m not surprised, though. Always the spitfire.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Sobering, with tears glistening on his unshaven cheeks and beads of sweat dotting his brow, he answered, “You resent the fact that I brought Greta here last night even though I explained how it was nothing more than a gesture of politeness. You, my dear, are jealous!”

  Indignantly, Rebecca shot back, “I’m jealous?! How do you explain your behavior when I returned from dinner with Milton? You looked positively lethal that night.”

  Luke seethed, “Yes, so I was jealous! You’re damn right I was jealous! But I don’t know why I should be. We have been nothing more than colleagues and neighbors---barely on speaking terms I might add---over the past month. But now that I see how jealous you are, there’s only one explanation: you still want me.”

  Hurt and outraged at Luke’s egotistical statements, Rebecca sputtered, “You have some nerve! You are the one who ended things between us in the first place, not me! And why? Because you don’t feel you’re man enough since you’re poor?”

  Luke retreated several steps and grimaced blackly, and Rebecca knew that she had struck a sensitive chord. “Take your ticket.” He mumbled, shoving it at her. “I’ll see you on the train.”

  Stunned, Rebecca held the ticket in her hands, trembling as Luke walked away from her, disappearing into a crowd of arriving passengers. Though she had spoken the truth, Rebecca nonetheless felt remorseful over the insensitive way she had treated Luke. He had not been obligated to inconvenience himself and wait for her all morning.

  Rebecca made her way to a newspaper stand selling hot beverages and pastries. Without the stomach for breakfast, she opted for a large cup of black coffee. As she listlessly sipped the strong coffee, Luke’s words echoed in her ears. She had been jealous when he had left with Greta last night, but why should she give him the satisfaction of knowing it? It was not as though he were offering her anything other than a train ticket and temporary companionship as a chaperone.

  The two hours waiting to board the train were interminable for Rebecca, as she remained like a rock on the bench, staring into the empty bottom of her coffee cup. When the announcement came for boarding to Venice, Rebecca walked languidly to the train. She took her assigned seat, which was by the aisle between two cars. Moments later, Luke sat down next to her, immediately averting his eyes from her and staring out the window at the railroad tracks.

  “Thanks for the aisle seat! You really are a gentleman.” She hissed, knowing she sounded immature and ungrateful.

  Luke slowly turned his head from the window to Rebecca’s face and shot her a sardonic look. “Beggars cannot be choosers. These were the only seats available. Besides, I wasn’t aware that I would be traveling with a prima donna who needed a seat with a view. But, by all means, let us switch seats because I am a gentleman.”

  “No! Never mind. I’ll stay where I am. Don’t trouble yourself.”

  “It’s no trouble, I…”

  “No!” Rebecca repeated sharply.

  Sulkily, Luke turned back to the window, watching as the train rolled out of the station. The two remained in silence as the train headed southward, taking them by a kaleidoscope of trees and autumn colors sailing on the October breeze. Rebecca was pensive as she watched Vienna fade into the distance. She was unable to grasp that it had been not even three months since she first arrived in the city, an ingénue with stars in her eyes. Falling in love had not been on her list of goals, yet she had, and now the man she loved seemed out of reach even though he sat just a breath away. As she reflected sadly on these tumultuous times, she dozed off to sleep.

  *****

  Rebecca awoke with a sensation of whiplash as her head knocked back against the seat. The sound of screaming filled the air as Rebecca instinctively cradled her neck, slowly craning to see what the commotion was about. “What happened?” She asked in a daze.

  “I think the train just got derailed.” Luke replied solemnly.

  “Oh no! I hope everyone is OK!” Rebecca cried, hearing the screams and shouts of the riders.

  Within an instant, people were yanking open the doors of the railcars in an effort to escape the presumed wreckage. Frantic passengers shoved and jostled their way off the train, compelling Rebecca to follow suit.

  As she jumped out of her seat and grabbed her luggage, Luke interrogated, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m leaving like everyone else! If the train has derailed, there’s no point staying on board.”

  “Panic begets further disaster! Look at those fools over there. Someone is going to be knocked unconscious in a minute if they keep it up. Just wait here for a while longer. We’re in no imminent danger.” Luke shouted the words, trying to be heard over the mob of travelers.

  “I don’t follow instructions from you, Luke. I’m getting off this train right now!” Rebecca announced decisively, grabbing her luggage and weaving through chaotic throngs of people to get to one of the exits.

  Uttering a muffled profanity, Luke reluctantly followed Rebecca. “Doesn’t even know where we are and she’s going off by herself like some sort of pioneer!”

  Standing perilously on the tracks, Rebecca inspected the damage to the train, which did not appear significant. With a breath of gratitude, Rebecca estimated that no one had been hurt, as it was just one of the cars near the caboose that had caused the whole train to become stuck on the tracks.

  With the balm of fresh air, sunlight, and open space, the passengers’ fears were momentarily assuaged. Rebecca watched with disinterest as Luke hauled his suitcases over to the tracks where she was standing.

  Before he was even near her, he shouted, “Get off the tracks! Stand on the platform! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  This was one piece of advice that even willful Re
becca could not refuse, and she stepped unceremoniously onto the concrete platform where he joined her seconds later.

  “Sometimes I wonder what goes on inside that red head of yours!” Luke said mockingly, with just a hint of amusement.

  “It was a brief lapse of sanity amid all this chaos.” Rebecca defended.

  “Never mind. Let’s just follow the direction of the tracks until we get to the next train station. Though, I don’t think we’re close to a metropolitan area.” Luke surmised, surveying the multitude of trees surrounding them and sprawling hills in the distance.

  “We are in Italy, aren’t we?” Rebecca asked, not completely sure since she had napped on the train.

  “Yes, we did cross the border into Italy, but as I said, we’re not anywhere near a city like Venice.”

  As she looked ahead to the fathomless terrain they had to cover to reach the next station, she suddenly became aware that this was her fault. Luke would not have been on board a train headed for derailment if she hadn’t overslept that morning. She dared to meet his eyes and guessed that he was thinking the same thing.

  “Aren’t you glad you waited for me?” Rebecca kidded.

  Some semblance of a smile played over Luke’s features. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ll consider this an adventure.”

  Then, spontaneously, he dropped his luggage down on the platform and pulled Rebecca into his arms, kissing her. “You taste just as sweet in Italy.” He muttered before swallowing them both into the depths of a long-restrained, ardent embrace.

  Unthinkingly, Rebecca returned his kiss as though no time had passed since their first interlude and there had been no conflict in between. No crazy Greta or obnoxious Milton. Just the two of them in love, from the historic roads of Salzburg to the sparkling waters of the swimming pool to this reckless moment next to a derailed train.

  From the cocoon of Luke’s warming embrace, Rebecca could hear the admiring remarks of two English passers-by. “Oh, they must be newlyweds. Only newlyweds would act like this after a train accident!”

  Simultaneously, Luke and Rebecca pulled away from one another to look at the intruders, a middle aged woman standing next to her smirking husband. The couple waved to Rebecca and Luke before walking away, presumably toward the next train station, where all the derailed passengers seemed to be migrating.

  Rebecca looked awkwardly at Luke. We should be newlyweds, Rebecca thought, as Luke cleared his throat, obviously thrown out of the romantic moment and back into reality. Keeping to themselves, they walked two more miles before reaching the next train stop, a tiny station that didn’t have a departure to Venice until early the next morning.

  Upon reading the schedule, Rebecca groaned, “Does this mean we are going to have to spend the night in a train station?”

  “I’m afraid so. I wouldn’t want to search all over the place for a hotel, only to have us both oversleep tomorrow morning. Still, a hotel would have its advantages…” Luke insinuated as Rebecca shook her head vigorously.

  “No! We’ll stay at the train station. Just consider it the next phase of our adventure.” She said wryly.

  After purchasing two more tickets, Luke found a bench where they lay their luggage out as makeshift pillows and prepared to recline. As soon as they did, Rebecca became painfully aware of the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day. Luke looked too comfortable to disturb, so she ventured off on her own for her first taste of authentic Italian food.

  When she returned with a bowl of hot polenta in her hands, Rebecca tilted her head to one side, beholding the sight of Luke sleeping on the bench. Gracefully, she sat down next to him, trying not to stare or listen too closely to the rhythm of his breathing. As she dug her spoon into the polenta, she wished that she could sleep against his heart. Rebecca was quite sure that if she and Luke could reach an understanding regarding their finances, she would be happy with him in the stark middle of nowhere, for the rest of their lives.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Shadows bounced off the sun-speckled roof of the Venetian villa, as Gloria Meadow stood inside, pacing back and forth on the oak floor of her newly appointed bedroom. She had been alarmed when Rebecca failed to appear aboard the train from Vienna yesterday morning. Now, a day later, her fears for the girl were mounting to a crescendo.

  The only consolation she had was the conspicuous absence of Luke Springwell, whom Gloria prayed was with Rebecca. The old woman threw a sideways glance at Annabelle, sleeping peacefully on the bed, surrounded by pink satin pillows and stuffed animals.

  “Hot tea for you, my dear.” Christopher Graysen walked into the room, balancing a teacup in his hands, which Gloria gratefully accepted. “I squeezed some fresh lemon in there, just as you like.”

  “Thank you, Christopher. I’ve never been served by a man before. You are a darling and a gentleman, my love.” Gloria’s eyes sparkled especially for the conductor as she blew on the steaming tea and took a sip.

  “I know that you’re worried about your granddaughter, but I am sure that it is just a minor travel mishap that has delayed her arrival.” Christopher soothed, patting Gloria’s hand affectionately.

  “I do hope you’re right. She’s generally a very reliable young lady, so this tardiness seems utterly out of character.” Gloria cooled her tea some more with her breath, as the beverage still billowed hot vapors. Then, an expression of panic came over her face as she exclaimed, “Christopher, what if that vicious Greta girl has attacked my Rebecca again? Was she not supposed to be released from jail this week?”

  Christopher looked away, silently telling Gloria that he had already considered this possibility and had not wanted to expound on it for fear of inciting panic.

  “Christopher,” she probed, on the verge of tears, “Do you think Rebecca has been attacked again?”

  “Honestly, the thought did cross my mind,” He began, then, seeing the increasing panic on her face, gently clarified, “but, I doubt that Rebecca is in any danger. In fact, I trust fully that she is perfectly safe, most likely with Mr. Springwell as her chaperone. I don’t gather it was coincidence that caused them both to miss the train.”

  “You’re right. I’m just a worried old lady. After losing my son and daughter-in-law, it’s so difficult not to fall into pessimism.” She said distraughtly, flooded with maternal love.

  “Oh, dear Gloria. It just seems to go against the natural order of things for a child to predecease a parent. I am so sorry.” Christopher condoled, rubbing her forearm and encouraging her to take another calming sip of tea.

  While Gloria and Christopher sat together on her bed, bathed in the comfortable silence shared between two people who genuinely understand each other, they detected a sudden commotion downstairs. From the corner bedroom, nestled away on the third floor in a secluded section of the villa, they could faintly hear the tumult of doors slamming and people shouting.

  “Oh no, what now?” Gloria cried, her nerves now shaken beyond bearing.

  “I’ll go see what all the fuss is about. You stay here and relax.”

  “No, I’m coming with you!”

  With trembling hands, Gloria set the teacup down on the night table and followed Christopher down the stairs, where the clamor was louder than ever. Most of the orchestra members, including the entire woodwind section, formed a circle around people whose faces were obscured.

  “What is going on here?” Mr. Graysen demanded.

  “Luke and Rebecca are here! Their train was derailed, and they could have been killed!” Alexander, one of the oboe players, hollered as Gloria nearly swooned.

  “Killed? Oh my Lord. Get out of my way so I can see my granddaughter!” Gloria pushed through the miniature mob scene that had formed in the villa’s main parlor, not caring if she knocked every one of the youngsters over.

  A haggard looking Rebecca emerged from the crowd to embrace her grandmother and whisper, “I’m fine, trust me. There was an accident, but everyone is blowing it out of proportion. Apparently, nothing more e
xciting than a train derailment ever happens in these peoples’ lives!” She spoke light-heartedly, as Gloria breathed an audible sigh of relief, spotting Luke still standing in the crowd, detailing their colleagues about the accident and subsequent ordeal.

  “I’ll tell you everything later, Grandmother, but for now, I would like to get settled in my new room and take a nap. After my nap, I should be refreshed enough to explore this magnificent place! I couldn’t believe when I saw the villa from the outside. It looks like it should be the summer residence of Franz Joseph!” She raved, as Gloria released her from a tight embrace.

  “Yes, and this is the result of everyone pitching in together. Not one of us could afford to live here on our own, not even to vacation for one night, but all of us pooled together can stay for months!” Gloria shared Rebecca’s enthusiasm and promptly brought her upstairs to tour her new living quarters.

  *****

  Rebecca awoke from her siesta feeling revived. She stretched briefly and then eagerly fled her room, charming with its pastel walls and ruffled canopy bed. As pleasant as her chamber was, especially in comparison to the coat closet she had inhabited back in Vienna, Rebecca was curious to see what delights the rest of the villa contained.

  The corridor was quiet, as most of the musicians had gone on self-guided tours of Venice, inspired by the subtle breeze from the waterways and temperate autumn weather. Passing by a library filled with floor to ceiling shelves of books, Rebecca wondered if Luke had ventured out to the city as well. Then, resolving not to think of him, she sailed downstairs where a gourmet kitchen waited just around the bend. The long granite countertop was covered with fresh vegetables including zucchini, asparagus, peppers, onions, and tomatoes. Rebecca’s stomach growled, avid for a taste of the globally lauded Italian gastronomy.

  Seizing a knife from the wooden cutting board next to the vegetables, Rebecca began to chop the produce into diced bits in preparation for a ratatouille. When she was finished chopping the vegetables, she mixed them together in a large pot, drizzling on some olive oil and sprinkling in a little salt.

 

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