The Music Trilogy (43 page)

Jean was touched. “Thank you, Eleni.”

“Hello, everybody,” Penelope said, waving her towel. “I see you are deep in what seems to be a very important discussion,” she said to Eleni and Jean. “It could only be artistic gossip.”

Koulouris’ daughter was wearing a designer swimsuit that accented her lovely lines. She looked very much like her father, dark-skinned, and handsome. One look made men stop what they were doing, and when she opened her mouth, intelligence spoke. She had been proposed to many times but Penelope never wanted any part of these offers of marriage. She was content with her work and her friends. She believed love would come when the time was right.

“What’s for lunch?” she asked her stepmother.

“I don’t understand it,” Eleni said. “Penelope eats like a horse and doesn’t gain a gram. How do you do it?”

“Simple, Eleni, I work out.”

“But when do you work out? You’re always at the office. You mean you push that pencil so much that it reduces your calories?”

“Hey, Jean!” Rodrigo shouted. “Why don’t you come in and let me rescue you. I could give you mouth-to-mouth if you get in trouble.”

“No, thanks, I’ll pass.”

Jacques went to the communications room to answer a telephone call. He wondered who it might be and thought darkly of Robini, the Italian promoter. But then he dismissed this quickly. Robini wouldn’t dare. The Rome concert was booked solid.

Jacques picked up the telephone receiver. “
Hallo
?”

“Jacques?”

“
Oui
?”

“This is Charles Charpentier.” He was Monique’s physician.

“Yes,
Docteur
, how is she?”

“I’m afraid nothing new, but we would like to try some new medicine on her that might bring her out of the comatose condition. I need your approval.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“The results so far on other patients have been very encouraging, but there is always a percentage of danger, that is why I need your okay.”

“Could there be a possibility of her…not making it?”

“I will be honest with you, my friend, there is always that possibility, but in Monique’s case, I think the risk factor would not be too high. The percentage is low.”

“If she were you’re wife, would you… would you?”

“I do not want to influence your decision, but once you give it to me, either way, I will tell you what I would do if I was in your position.”

Jacques could not make the decision, not alone. He asked the doctor to give him a few minutes and he dialed the extension at the pool.

“Chérie
, I’m on the line with Charles, Monique’s doctor,” he told Davina. “He wants to try some new medicine on Monique which could bring her out of the coma, but it may be dangerous.”

“Jacques, what are you asking me?”

He sighed. “I’m not sure. If it succeeds, she could come back, if not, she… she might…”

“I’ll be right there.”

Davina wrapped a towel around her and went to the communications room where Jacques sat, holding his head in his hands.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t know.”

Davina put an arm around his shoulders. “I won’t make the decision for you, Jacques. You know I can’t do that. But if it was up to me, I would tell Charles to go ahead. It’s a chance, but it’s worth the risk. It’s time Jacques. For all of us, but especially for you and for Monique.”

He knew she was right. “Thank you,
chérie
,” he said, putting the doctor back on the line.

“Charles, I have made my decision.” Jacques breathed in deeply. “Go ahead. Do it.”

“Very good.”

“And, Charles, please tell me your answer. What would your choice be?”

“I would do the same.”

“Thank you. I know you will do your best. When will we know the results?”

“It usually takes a few days. I will keep you up to date.”

“Very well,” Jacques said. He had just made the right decision, or one that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Davina returned to poolside and whispered to Jean. “Can we talk?” She had not told Jean the news about Simon Grady. Davina squeezed Jean’s hand. This was her opportunity.

“Is everything alright?” Jean asked.

“Perhaps there is something.”

“There is something I have to tell you first… The truth is, Davina, I…I have cancer. I don’t know how much time I have left. I haven’t told Rodrigo. I don’t know how to tell him. I’m so in love with him. I have leukemia. I take pills. They keep me alive, I suppose. I’m almost out of the pills. But it doesn’t seem to matter now. I’ve never felt so well in my life.” Jean started to cry. “If this is what love does, then I could die tomorrow and it won’t matter because I’m so high on life right now.”

Davina just listened. “I know, Jean” she said very gently, I’ve know since the airport in Miami the first day we met..

“You know? But how?”

“I saw your pills. I knew what they were for because of my father.” Davina said, reliving her father’s hell in a split second, but she came back quickly. “However, I have some things I need to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

Davina had spoken to Faydon who suggested that Jean come to the Koulouris Clinic in Athens. It would be a good preamble to the more difficult news.

They went into one of the lounges, empty now, and sat on an over-sized couch. The air conditioning made them shiver.

"Good news first,” Davina said, and she told Jean about the Koulouris Clinic and the work Faydon was doing there with cancer patients.

“Does he think there’s hope?” Jean asked.

“There’s always hope!”

“But this is leukemia, Davina.”

“I know. Faydon says leukemia is often curable. Those are his words. He’ll examine you at the clinic in Athens. You can talk to him. He’s on the yacht with us. I know he can help you.”

“Rodrigo still doesn’t know.”

“You’ll tell him when you’re ready.”

Jean did feel hopeful, no matter that a doctor had already told her she had only a few years to live. Rodrigo gave her hope. Her life had changed so completely.

“There’s something else, Jean. It's Simon Grady."

"What's he done now?"

Davina told her.

"I’ve put you in danger, Davina. He’s got to be stopped. Maybe we should forget the clinic in Athens.”

“Jean, what are you saying?”

“I'm the one Simon wants. I could probably find him. Or he’d find me.”

"Are you out of your mind? He'll kill you! Do you think I've forgotten the look on his face at the airport and the state
you
were in? He's crazy, and you know that better than anyone. Your
geste
, your gesture, is very gallant, Jean, but not one of us would allow it. You are too dear to us. You've suffered enough.”

"But can't you see? I don't care what happens to me, as long as you and everyone else are safe. Davina, you don’t understand. He is a killer!”

“What about Rodrigo? Have you thought about him? Do you think he wants to lose you? My God, he adores you.”

“I love him!” Jean wailed.

“And he loves you. Listen, Jean…”

“I’ve been in jail.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“We checked you out when you boarded our plane in Miami. We were just being careful, you understand. There was never a doubt about your innocence. You have been completely cleared.”

“You knew all along?”

“Yes, Jean, listen. What we can do, you in particular, since you know Simon better than anyone, is to figure out who he’s hanging around with. He's been hiding out since the last incident with the prostitute."

Jean sat very still. “He couldn't care less who gets killed. That’s what scares me, Davina. Like I said, he’s a killer.”

The
Aphrodite
moored in Rome’s nearest port for Davina’s next concert. Robini was true to his word, at least his final word. The concert was sold out. The fans and the press followed Davina’s limousine from San Leone Auditorium all the way to the marina. They swamped Davina and her famous diva godmother and they also tried to board the tender that would take them to the
Aphrodite
. The
polizia
had a difficult time containing the crowd. Only after several more autographs from Davina and Eleni, and many more photographs, were they able to safely board the tender.

That night the
Aphrodite
set sail for the Strait of Messina and the Aegean islands. Davina excused herself, pleading exhaustion. It was not so much the physical exhaustion as the emotional turmoil that had run her down, although it was not enough to keep her from making love with Alejandro. Nothing in this world made her happier than her
caballero
.

They awoke the next day cradled in each other’s arms. Refreshed and anticipating another relaxing day on the yacht, they slipped into their swimsuits and headed for breakfast and the Mediterranean sun.

The
Aphrodite
sailed the gentle waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea, stopping for short periods along Italy's western coast so that her passengers could explore Naples and visit Capri and Pompeii. After a full day of sightseeing and shopping, most of the
Aphrodite’s
passengers retired early for the night.

Eric was strolling on the deck when he ran into Penelope, almost knocking her down. “I really don’t feel like going to sleep,” he said, as if by way of apology.

“I don’t either. I’m just going to walk around.”

“Would you like some company?”

“Sure.”

The Irishman folded her arm over his, and they walked the empty upper deck under the stars. They stopped in front of the life-size gold statue of Aphrodite the goddess.

“She’s grand!” Eric said. “I suppose she’s a favorite of your father’s?”

“Not so much the goddess but what she stood for. Love changed my father’s life so profoundly. He’s not the same person he is today that he used to be.”

“What happened?” Eric asked. His eyes shined like emeralds in the beam of a deck strobe.

“He met Eleni and they fell in love. He had never known love before, not like that.”

Eric took Penelope’s hands in his own. “You are very beautiful, but you already know that. May I tell you what I find even more beautiful about you?”

“If you wish.”

“You. The real you. The you deep down inside, the you who’s dying to burst out and give all the love you have to the man who makes you happy and doesn’t want you for your money or your business. And I just happen to know this man.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Me.” He pulled her gently to him, and as their bodies touched, he softly put his lips to hers. They held for a moment until her arms came up around his neck. Their passion had been mounting for days and now it exploded.

Penelope suddenly pulled away.

“What is it?”

“Shh. Listen.”

They went to the railing and peered down to the lower deck. Faydon and Bianca were there in an impassioned embrace.

Penelope laughed. They were twins, after all. Twins managed incomprehensibly to do the same things, to make the same decisions, to have the same emotions at the same time. Had they fallen in love together? In the same place?

When Faydon looked up towards the muffled sound of laughter, he blushed. His sister had never seen him kissing a woman before. But when he saw that Penelope and Eric had an arm around each other, he chuckled too.

The
Aphrodite
continued southward through the Strait of Messina between Italy's 'toe' and the 'soccer ball' known as Sicily. The following day, she sailed into the Ionian Sea and headed toward the Gulf of Corinth and the isthmus that would lead them into the Aegean.

Eric and Penelope and Jean and Rodrigo were on the bridge to watch their trek through the narrow passageway. The
Aphrodite's
master, Stefanos Koulouris, passed the wheel over to the pilot, Captain Haralambos, who had boarded the yacht for the trip through the isthmus.

“Did you know that the isthmus was an idea dreamed up by Periander in the seventh century BC,” Penelope said. “But it wasn’t completed until the end of the nineteenth century.”

“Who’s Periander?” Jean asked.

“A tyrant.”

“And just a few miles from here,” the pilot said, “the Spartans defeated the great Persian army.” He smiled, looking very pleased with himself. He was a short man. Most of his dark curly hair was hidden under a typical Greek fisherman's hat. His dark eyes and olive complexion were accented by a large mustache, handlebar style. "Captain Koulouris, are we ready?” the pilot asked. “My men at the pilot station are awaiting my signal."