‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully. ‘Olivia and I may well take you up on the offer of spending the actual race day up here though.’
Switching off her radio alarm Nanette lay in bed for a few moments, thinking and planning the day ahead. Once she’d got the twins to school she was going shopping for a dress to wear to this evening’s cocktail party and then she had an appointment at the hairdressers.
Knowing how immaculate the women who attended these parties always looked she knew she had to make an effort for Jean-Claude’s sake. She didn’t want to let him down with his business acquaintances.
Slipping her feet into her slippers, she stood up stretching her arms above her head as she did so, only to freeze in mid-action as she glanced out of the window.
Several yachts were about to enter the harbour and one of them looked uncomfortably familiar. Pulling her dressing-gown tight, Nanette stepped out on to her balcony and watched as the boats motored in.
The crew of Pole Position worked quickly and efficiently and it was only a matter of minutes before the yacht was secured on her mooring – directly opposite the block of apartments. Once the boat was tied up and the gangway lowered to the quay, Nanette held her breath waiting to see if Zac would appear.
But a lone crew member was the only person to run down and disappear along the embankment in the direction of the supermarché, reappearing minutes later with several baguettes and a bag of croissants for the crew’s breakfast.
Thoughtfully Nanette ran the water for her bath, adding a generous amount of rose essence. With his yacht back in the harbour, it could only be a matter of time now before Zac, the Heel, appeared in Monaco. Fleetingly she wondered what his reaction to her being in town would be.
Stepping into the tub and sinking into the hot, scented water, Nanette tried to drown out all thoughts of the past and Zac from her mind. Just because his yacht was here didn’t mean he was likely to turn up tonight.
‘Mmm, you smell nice,’ Olivia said, when Nanette entered the sitting-room that evening. ‘And your dress is cool.’
‘Thank you. I hope it’s the sort of thing people wear to cocktail parties. I’m a bit out of touch these days,’ she said, glancing anxiously at Jean-Claude for reassurance.
‘You look fine,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘The taxi is waiting, so shall we go? Is Mathieu home for the twins?’
Nanette shook her head.
‘No. He rang earlier to say it will be late tonight before he gets back. Florence is here. I’ll just tell her we’re leaving.’
Early evening traffic was heavy and the taxi crawled up the hill towards Place du Casino.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Jean-Claude said glancing at her. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. Just a bit nervous. Haven’t done much socializing recently.’
‘Don’t worry. Pole Position may be back on its mooring, but I happen to know Zac Ewart isn’t in town,’ Jean-Claude said quietly.
Nanette looked at him, surprised.
‘When I saw the yacht this morning, I knew you’d be worried, so I made enquiries. Zac is busy testing in Jerez with his team for the next two days.’
‘Oh, JC, thank you for that,’ Nanette said gratefully, feeling the tension drain from her body. ‘Now I can relax and help you with whatever you want me to do. Do you hope to promote your business tonight? Or is it a case of other businesses wanting you to use them…? What’s the matter?’ she asked anxiously, as Jean-Claude stared at her.
‘My late wife was the only person who ever called me JC,’ Jean-Claude said slowly.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It sort of slipped out,’ Nanette said. ‘I’ll stick to your full name in future.’
‘No. It’s fine. It was just the shock of hearing you say it. Please, I’d like you to call me JC, only perhaps not in front of my business associates tonight,’ he said, smiling at her.
As the taxi drew up in front of the Hotel de Paris, the uniformed commissioner opened the door and ushered them up the steps into the opulent foyer with its chandeliers, deep carpets, marble stairs and enough fresh flowers to stock a florist’s shop.
Once inside, where the head commissioner greeted Jean-Claude personally, they made their way to the Salon Berlioz, already buzzing with people.
Accepting glasses of champagne from an attentive waitress, Jean-Claude said, ‘Right. Better start mixing. Let’s start by talking to Robert, one of the wine merchants I use.’
For the next hour Jean-Claude circulated, introducing Nanette to so many people she forgot their names instantly. There was only one person with whom she had any sort of rapport and that was Evie, personal assistant to Luc, a formidable bear-like man who, Evie assured her, ‘is a real sweetie.’
‘Been in Monte long?’ Evie asked, taking a smoked-salmon blini from a passing waiter and gesturing to Nanette to do the same.
‘Just a few weeks,’ Nanette said non-committally. ‘You?’
‘Six months. I love it. It’s all so glamorous. I can’t wait for the Grand Prix.’
Nanette smiled at her infectious enthusiasm, recognizing and remembering similar feelings when she’d first arrived.
‘Are you Jean-Claude’s assistant?’
‘Sort of. Officially I’m his grandchildren’s nanny.’
‘Really? Gosh he doesn’t look old enough to have grandkids,’ Evie said, looking across at Jean-Claude who was saying an animated goodbye to Luc.
‘Fancy meeting up for a coffee sometime?’ Nanette said impulsively. ‘I’m quite missing my girlfriends from back home and could do with some girly chat.’
‘Love to,’ Evie said. ‘Take my card and give me a ring next week. Better go, I think Luc wants me. Ciao.’
‘Ciao,’ Nanette answered smiling.
She was still smiling when Jean-Claude joined her a couple of minutes later.
‘Shall we go? I booked a table for eight o’clock at my favourite fish restaurant on Boulevard Grande Bretagne.’ He stopped suddenly and looked at her anxiously. You do like fish, don’t you? I didn’t think to ask!’
‘Yes, JC, I do,’ Nanette laughingly reassured him.
A crowd of paparazzi had gathered on the pavement outside the hotel and flashbulbs started to pop as they walked past. Nanette, glancing briefly across to see if she recognized the blonde celebrity posing in the Casino entrance, thought ‘rather her than me’ and failed to notice a lone photographer moving backwards.
Jean-Claude’s warning shout, ‘Hey, mind where you’re going,’ and his attempt to pull her out of the way, was too late. The man collided with her heavily and they both fell over the small hedge that separated the pavement from the parkland grass in the middle of the Place du Casino.
Dazed, Nanette sat on the ground taking deep breaths for several moments and trying in vain to ignore the cameras that were now aimed in her direction.
‘Are you all right?’ asked a concerned Jean-Claude. ‘Do you think you’ve broken anything?’
Nanette shook her head. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m just winded. But I could do with a hand to get up.’
Gently Jean-Claude helped her to her feet.
‘Mademoiselle, I am so sorry,’ the photographer said.
‘It’s OK.’ Nanette said. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going either.’
She looked at Jean-Claude. ‘Could we just get to the restaurant please? I’d like some water.’
‘Hey!’ the photographer said suddenly. ‘I recognize you. Aren’t you the woman who nearly killed Zac Ewart?’
CHAPTER THREE
Days later, the words ‘Aren’t you the woman who nearly killed Zac Ewart?’ were still ringing in Nanette’s head as she kept going over and over the incident.
She’d known it was inevitable that someone from the past would recognize her, but somehow she’d expected it to happen during Grand Prix week when people she’d worked with years ago would be in town.
As she’d stared at the photographer, shocked into silence by his words,
Jean-Claude had stopped a passing taxi, helped her into it and taken her back to his villa. He had comforted her, telling her that it was an isolated incident.
‘You might have a certain notoriety for a few days now the press have realized you’re back. Especially’ – he hesitated before continuing – ‘when Zac Ewart arrives. But I promise you it will pass.’
He had poured her a small brandy, encouraging her to sip it, while he phoned the restaurant and cancelled his reservation. He’d then cooked them pasta for supper before driving her back to the apartment.
Mathieu had been in when they arrived and Jean-Claude had quickly told him about the evening’s incident before wishing Nanette ‘Goodnight.’
As Mathieu saw JC out, Nanette opened the patio doors and stepped on to the balcony. Standing there watching the lights and looking over the harbour she was deep in thought when Mathieu joined her.
‘I see Pole Position is back,’ he said, looking down towards the yachts. There was a pause before he added, ‘Zac is planning a big party on board in a couple of weeks I understand.’
‘Of course he is,’ Nanette said shortly, remembering when she’d done the organizing for on-board parties. ‘And, knowing Zac, he won’t stop at the one.’
Mathieu looked at her. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked gently.
Nanette nodded. ‘Yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just that photographer tonight.…’ She sighed, shook her head and didn’t finish the sentence.
‘Don’t let it worry you,’ Mathieu said. ‘A couple more weeks, there will be so many famous people in town the paparazzi will forget about you.’
‘Hope you’re right,’ Nanette answered. She looked at him hesitantly before asking, ‘Are you in touch with Zac?’
Mathieu nodded. ‘He’s getting some pit lane passes for me.’
‘Does he know I’m here?’
‘Yes. I told him you were coming to look after the twins for me.’
‘How did he react?’
Mathieu shrugged. ’He didn’t say anything so I can’t tell you.’
Mathieu was the first to speak again after a short silence.
‘Talking of parties. We’ve got the Vintage Grand Prix this year the weekend before the main one and I’m giving a lunch on the Sunday. Just friends and a few business contacts.’ He glanced at her. ‘I hope you’ll join us?’
‘Thanks. What about the twins though? Pierre will be keen, but Olivia will find the whole thing totally boring.’
Mathieu smiled. ‘Maybe when she hears a certain pop star is on the guest list she’ll come round.’
‘Of course, you’re directly above the start line here,’ Nanette said, leaning on the balcony watching the cars moving along the Boulevard Albert 1st below. ‘You’ll have a great view. People will be begging to come.’
‘The sound effects will be pretty awesome too,’ Mathieu said. ‘Nanette, I meant what I said the other evening about us getting to know each other better – I’m aiming to be home more in the next few weeks so I hope we can spend some time together. I’m sorry I had to cancel our date to see the tennis, but I hope you won’t hold that against me.’
‘Of course not. I was busy helping Jean-Claude sort out his office anyway.’
‘I’ve promised the twins I’ll take them out next Monday as it’s a fête. I’ve got some friends who have a place up in the country near Grasse who’ve invited us for the day. Olivia and Pierre love it up there. Will you come, too?’
Before Nanette could reply his mobile rang and, with an apologetic smile, Mathieu turned from her and answered it. Nanette closed the balcony doors, mouthed ‘goodnight’ to a distracted Mathieu and went to bed with her thoughts.
A dishevelled Mathieu appeared the next morning as Nanette was getting the twins ready to leave for school.
‘Morning,’ he said, helping himself to a cup of coffee and joining the twins as they ate their pains au chocolat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen.
‘I’ve got to go away again this morning for a couple of days,’ he said to the twins.
‘What about our day out to Grasse?’ Pierre demanded. ‘You promised you’d take us. We’re not going to have to cancel again are we?’
‘Definitely not,’ Mathieu said. ‘I’ll be back for that, and the good news is that Nanette is coming with us.’
‘Mathieu, I’ve been thinking about that and I need to talk to you about it,’ Nanette said.
Mathieu glanced at her. ‘Talk later. Right now there are one or two papers I need to find for my trip and you two had better get a move on or you’ll be late for school.’ And Mathieu disappeared into the sitting-room. Seconds later he could be heard talking on his phone.
Nanette stifled a sigh. ‘Come on you two. Dad’s right. Let’s go.’
Once she’d walked the twins to school and seen them into the grounds, Nanette hurried back to the apartment, hoping that Mathieu would still be there.
Because Nanette now had the bedroom Mathieu would normally have used as his office, he’d moved his computer, desk and a two-drawer filing cabinet into a tiny windowless area at the back of the sitting-room that housed a small fridge and a drinks cabinet for when he was entertaining guests on the balcony.
Florence was busy vacuuming as Nanette let herself into the apartment. She walked straight through the sitting-room, surprising Mathieu who was watching his printer waiting for the last piece of paper to join a freshly printed batch whilst mumbling into his phone. He jumped visibly at the sound of Nanette’s voice and hurriedly switched the phone off before turning to face her.
‘Mathieu about the trip to Grasse. Is it the de Oliviers’ farm you’re visiting?’
‘Yes.’
‘In that case I’d rather not go with you.’
‘Why on earth not?’
Nanette looked at him quizzically. ‘Why do you think? Zac and I used to visit them regularly when they lived up at Eze. I’m pretty sure they—’
‘Would be very pleased to see you again,’ Mathieu interrupted.
Nanette shook her head. ‘I’d still rather not go.’
Mathieu looked at her before saying stonily, ‘You are here to look after the twins. It’s not really for you to decide whether you go or not. I could insist you accompany us.’
‘I do look after the twins – when they are not at school I organize their lives,’ Nanette said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ve actually seen more of them than you have in the last few weeks – you’re always dashing off somewhere or other. You certainly weren’t around for Pierre’s after school football match, or Olivia’s music exam,’ she added crossly. ‘Olivia has already told me how much they are both looking forward to having you to themselves on Monday.’ She paused, before adding slowly, ‘But, Mathieu, if you don’t think I’m doing enough for the twins, you can always tell me to go and take over the job yourself. I’d be quite happy to go home – I didn’t want to come back here in the first place!’
She looked him straight in the eyes before adding, ‘I’m not sure how Vanessa would react to you sacking me though.’
That first night in the eco-tourism camp, Vanessa struggled to sleep under the mosquito net in the hammock slung between two beams of the traditional native hut, reliving the last few hours over and over in her mind.
As Ralph had held her in his arms after José had told them about the plane being shot down, saying she could go home to the twins if she wanted, she’d longed in her heart to do just that. But knowing how important this expedition and her presence on it was to Ralph, she’d steeled herself to continue.
Praying that Ralph was right when he assured her, it was extremely unlikely that another innocent plane would be shot out of the sky in the near future, ‘Lessons will have been learnt’, were his words, she’d taken a deep breath and climbed into the small plane.
To her surprise once they were airborne she’d relaxed and enjoyed the long flight. José had flown them over volcanoes, rivers and acres and acres of jungle. Ralph, quickl
y realizing he was extremely knowledgeable about his country, had spent most of the journey quizzing him about life in the jungle.
From her vantage point in the small plane the green jungle canopy below had looked to Vanessa like nothing more than giant knobbly heads of broccoli allowed to grow and grow.
Eventually José had landed on a dirt runway that appeared to be in the middle of a native village. As the door of the plane opened and she’d stepped out, the heat and the humidity had enveloped her completely. Seeing her discomfort, José immediately summoned one of the native women who had clustered around, to take her to the shelter of a small hut and give her a cool drink.
After watching José take off safely for his return journey, Ralph joined Vanessa in the hut. ‘Ready for the next part?’ he asked. ‘The boat is waiting.’ And, taking her by the hand, he helped her down a long length of rickety wooden steps to a small quay where a large motorized wooden canoe was moored.
Once on board, a canopy almost the length of the boat shielded the passengers from the intense heat and, as the canoe began to chug through the water, Vanessa appreciated the light breeze that fanned her face. As they made their way upriver, the noise of the boat’s engine mingled with the squawking of a large flock of parakeets. With the summer rainy season well under way, the river was high and much of the surrounding lowland was flooded.
‘Look,’ Ralph said, laughing, as he pointed to a log floating downstream. It took Vanessa a couple of seconds before she too saw the family of turtles hitching a lift on the water-sodden trunk. Gazing out across the wide expanse of water Vanessa tried to see the way ahead but the river appeared to snake its way forever through lush jungle, giving no hint of what lay beyond.
The river journey took over two hours and by the time they reached the camp where they were due to spend a couple of days acclimatizing themselves to their surroundings, Vanessa’s clothes were damp and sticking uncomfortably to her body. The canoe tied up alongside a small quay and suddenly native Indians were all around, helping them land and then to negotiate a bridged wooden walkway that led to the village.
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