Getting into the driver’s seat was hard but once her seat belt was fastened, Jean-Claude turned the ignition key and waited patiently as Nanette steadied her nerves.
‘Drive to the end of the road and I’ll take over again, if you want me to,’ he said. ‘Just take it slowly.’
By the time she’d steered the car the couple of hundred yards to the end of the road without any mishaps, Nanette had managed to take a couple of deep breaths. As she stopped at the T-junction and pulled the handbrake on she glanced across at Jean-Claude.
‘Can I go a bit further?’ she asked. ‘It actually feels good to be behind the wheel again.’
‘Of course. If you turn left here and then take the next right we’ll be back on the Bord de Mer.’
Nanette eased the car into the stream of traffic and carefully changed gear. By the time she turned on to the Bord de Mer her confidence was returning.
But then a noisy scooter, swerving in and out of the traffic, unnerved her and when the driver clipped her passenger-door wing mirror as he passed too close on the wrong side of the road, she abruptly parked in the first parking space she saw.
She was shaking as she pulled on the handbrake and turned off the ignition before turning to Jean-Claude.
‘That wasn’t your fault,’ he said. ‘You must remember how irresponsible the scooter drivers down here are – they cut everyone up from all angles.’
‘I’d forgotten,’ Nanette said, undoing her seat belt and opening her door. ‘But I’ve had enough. You drive the rest of the way please.’
Twenty minutes later the car was parked and they were strolling along the ancient ramparts in Antibes on their way to one of Jean-Claude’s favourite restaurants. As they settled themselves at a window table Nanette relaxed, she’d been looking forward to spending the day with Jean-Claude from the moment Mathieu had said he was taking the twins out for the day.
‘I’ll be away for most of next week,’ he’d said. ‘So I thought I’d treat them to a day’s sailing in Italy.’
Jean-Claude, who was in the apartment at the time, had immediately insisted Nanette spend the day with him, an invitation she was happy to accept. It would be an ideal opportunity to talk to JC – to ask his advice.
The restaurant, popular with both locals and tourists, was busy but the staff were attentive and within minutes Nanette and Jean-Claude had aperitifs and the bread basket in front of them and the waiter had disappeared to fetch the bottle of wine Jean-Claude had chosen to accompany their main courses.
‘Has the private detective discovered anything?’ Nanette asked as she broke off a piece of bread.
‘Non. Nothing new anyway. Mathieu has had dinner several times at the Automobile Club. Boris was there on one occasion. Zac on another. But my detective wasn’t the only one surveying things. He recognized an ex-gendarmerie colleague who now runs an agency in Nice.’
‘Was he watching Mathieu as well?’
‘Apparently not. He followed Boris when he left. Which makes me wonder, who was paying him to do that?’
‘Your man can’t ask his ex-colleague?’
‘He can ask but he can’t tell me. Client confidentiality and all that,’ Jean-Claude said, shaking his head.
‘Mathieu knows he’s being followed, you know,’ Nanette said. ‘He doesn’t know who’s arranged it, though,’ she added quickly.
Jean-Claude was silent for a few seconds, thoughtfully fingering the stem of his wine glass.
‘What a mess,’ he sighed. ‘If only he’d tell me what was going on I could help. I’m not without connections. I know people in the right places as they say.’ He shrugged and looked at Nanette helplessly.
‘Mathieu thinks I could help,’ she said slowly.
Jean-Claude was instantly alert.
‘How? Has he asked you to do something?’
‘Zac has – and Mathieu thinks it would be a good idea for me to do it. I think I’ve already decided what I’m going to do, but I wanted to talk to you about it first.’
Quickly she explained about Vacances au Soleil and the job offer that Zac had made her.
As she finished speaking, Jean-Claude reached out for her hand and held it tightly.
‘Nanette, listen to me. I can’t forbid you to work for Zac, but please don’t. I don’t care what Mathieu says about it helping him – he is so wrong to try and involve you.’ He looked at her intently. ‘Promise me you won’t even think about it. I don’t want you in any sort of danger. I’d never forgive myself.’
Shocked by the intensity of his words, and the look in his eyes, Nanette could only whisper, ‘I promise, JC,’ as the waiter arrived with their meal.
The news of Zac’s victory in the British Grand Prix was on the car radio late Sunday afternoon as they returned to Monaco.
‘It is possible he makes champion this year,’ Jean-Claude said thoughtfully. ‘He’s driving really well.’
Nanette nodded.
‘He’ll be on a real high when he gets back on Tuesday,’ she said. ‘Making him accept no for an answer to his proposal will be difficult.’
‘Would you like me to tell him for you?’ Jean-Claude asked.
Nanette smiled at him gratefully.
‘Thanks for the offer but I think it’s something I must do myself.’
As Jean-Claude stopped the car outside the apartment, Nanette leant across and kissed him gently on the cheek.
‘I’ve really enjoyed today, JC. Thank you.’
Jean-Claude looked at her steadily before unexpectedly placing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. His kiss was gentle and undemanding and a surprised Nanette was totally unprepared for the emotions it unleashed within her.
As they drew apart she stared at him.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Jean-Claude said, eventually releasing her. Wordlessly Nanette got out and closed the car door. Jean-Claude gave her an enigmatic smile before turning the steering wheel and driving away.
Nanette, her thoughts in turmoil, watched as the car disappeared. Had that kiss meant the same to him as it had to her? Or was she over-reacting to a gesture that was maybe just a gesture of loving friendship from an older man?
The following morning Mathieu left on his business trip and Nanette’s day slipped into its normal routine imposed by the twin’s school timetable.
With the memory of Jean-Claude’s kiss fresh in her mind, Nanette felt strangely shy when she took the twins up to his villa for their routine after-school swim. But she needn’t have worried. Jean-Claude, always the perfect gentleman, greeted her and the twins in his normal manner.
It was only when they were alone for a few minutes as the twins dried and dressed themselves, that he took her in his arms and gently kissed her.
‘How are you today, ma chérie?’ he asked. Nanette smiled at him shyly, as her heart skipped a beat at his use of the endearment. She hadn’t imagined it; the kiss had meant something to him as well.
‘Do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?’ he asked. ‘I thought maybe you’d like some company after the twins are in bed,’ he added.
Realizing that Jean-Claude had remembered that tomorrow was the third anniversary of her accident, Nanette nodded.
‘Please.’
‘I have a business meeting early evening but I should be with you by about nine o’clock,’ Jean-Claude said.
‘The twins have a school play rehearsal. I have to collect them at eight-thirty so by the time we’ve walked back that would be perfect.’
‘Good. I think we have things to talk about, ma chérie.’ Jean-Claude said softly.
The streets were quiet as Nanette walked slowly through Monaco to collect the twins the following evening. It would be another half-hour before the rush of people out to enjoy themselves for the evening began to make their way to the restaurants and nightclubs.
The hall where the twins were rehearsing was part of the modern apartment block where Zac had lived years ago and Nanette found her footsteps
dragging the nearer she got to the building.
Having deliberately avoided this particular area of Monte Carlo since her return, Nanette couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was that it should be this evening of all evenings that she was once again having to come to this particular building.
Nanette tried to push thoughts of the past out of her mind and concentrate on present-day aspects of her life – the twins, Jean-Claude, particularly Jean-Claude – but as she crossed the road towards the apartment block, images from her past began to merge with the present-day ones.
The lights were on in various apartments, including No.5 where she and Zac had spent so much time together. As Nanette glanced up, a glamorous woman came to the window, drawing the curtains, shutting Nanette and the world out.
Standing in the middle of the small service road that led to the underground garage, Nanette stared up at the window. Three years ago she and Zac were in that apartment getting ready to go out and celebrate her birthday before he left for the next Grand Prix.
She remembered how happy she’d been as they left the apartment. Stepping hand in hand with Zac into the lift to go down to the garage. Walking across to her new car and driving slowly up out of the underground exit, making for the auto route and their dinner reservation in Mougins.
The start of what had been a perfect evening with the man she loved – and whom she’d thought loved her.
An unexpected shiver racked her body and Nanette took several deep breaths trying to regain her composure. But images from later on that fateful evening were beginning to crowd into her brain.
Things she’d forgotten until now. The champagne they’d drunk, the friends they’d met up with, the rain that had begun to fall as they left the restaurant. Zac’s insistence—
Nanette jumped as a car horn blared out behind her.
‘Hey, lady, that’s not the best place to stand – unless you want to be run down.’ The man in the expensive sports car leant out of his window and rebuked her.
Nanette smiled weakly and mouthed the word ‘sorry’ in his direction, before moving back on to the narrow pavement, and allowing the man and his car to disappear down the ramp into the depths of the underground garage.
Shaking, she leant against the wall. It was several minutes before she felt strong enough to walk the few remaining yards to the rehearsal hall entrance.
It seemed only a matter of minutes before the twins ran out to join her.
‘Hi, Netty,’ Olivia said, taking hold of her hand as they began to walk, while Pierre ambled along in front.
‘I didn’t forget a single line tonight,’ Olivia said proudly.
‘Well done you,’ Nanette said, struggling to talk normally. ‘And you, Pierre? How did you get on?’
‘OK,’ Pierre said, turning round to look at her. ‘I’ve only got three lines to say anyway. Are you all right? You don’t look very well.’
‘I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ was the only thing she could think of saying. ‘Come on, let’s go home. Shall we have some hot chocolate when we get back?’
Once Nanette had seen the twins into bed she went through to the balcony and looked down at the boats bobbing around on their moorings.
Lights were shining out from the main cabin on Pole Position and as Nanette watched, a crew member came out on deck to check the position of the gangplank. Zac would be arriving on the late flight tonight and the crew knew better than not to have everything just right.
She stared down at the yacht, wondering why her memory had suddenly started to throw pictures of the past at her. Zac’s proposition? Or maybe driving on Sunday had been the trigger? Whatever the catalyst, there appeared to be no stopping the flood of painful reminiscences that were crowding into her mind.
Large droplets of rain blew in unexpectedly under the shelter of the balcony and Nanette grimaced to herself. She gripped the balcony rail tightly as yet another vignette of that evening three years ago flooded into her consciousness.
The rain had started as they left the restaurant. By the time they were on the autoroute and heading for the first tunnel, it was torrential and Nanette expected Zac to decree leaving at the next exit. Instead he simply pressed the play button on the radio and the nostalgic words of ‘Yesterday’ struggled to be heard against the noise of the storm and the rhythmic sweep of windscreen wipers rendered useless by the force of the rain.
As they exited the tunnel, Nanette saw the huge sheet of water that lay in front of them a split second before the car rose up and aquaplaned out of control across this unexpected lake towards the central reservation. The impact jarred every bone in her body and turned the car over, sending it spinning on its roof back across to the hard shoulder where it finally came to rest.
Drifting in and out of consciousness Nanette was dimly aware of the nauseous smell of petrol and of Zac dragging her out and away from the wreckage.
‘I’ve phoned for help. Shouldn’t be too long,’ Zac assured her as she lay on the verge.
The paramedics were kind and gently placed her on a stretcher. As they lifted her into the ambulance, Zac leant over her and whispered something.
Now, three years later, Nanette finally remembered what those words were.
‘Nanette, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nanette jumped as Jean-Claude appeared unexpectedly on the balcony. Lost in her memories she hadn’t heard the apartment door opening.
‘Is everything all right? You look very pale,’ Jean-Claude said, holding her tight as he gave her a greeting kiss on the cheeks.
‘Zac is due back soon. I was trying to work out what I’m going to say to him.’
‘How about a straightforward, No thank you. I don’t want the job with Vacances au Soleil.’
‘It’s no longer as simple as that, JC,’ Nanette said quietly. ‘I also need to talk to him about’ – she took a deep breath before continuing – ‘about the things I’ve started to remember.’
‘Your memory of the accident is returning?’
Nanette nodded. ‘Yes. Something triggered it off tonight as I walked past Zac’s old apartment,’ she said, beginning to shiver. ‘And then when I came out here.…’ Her voice trailed away as she gestured towards Pole Position.
Jean-Claude pulled her back into his arms protectively.
‘These memories have clearly upset you. Do you wish to tell me?’
Standing in the safe circle of his arms, looking up at Jean-Claude’s concerned face, Nanette wished she could confide in him. Ask his advice about how to approach things with Zac, but slowly she shook her head.
‘I think I must talk to Zac first – see if my memory is true or whether it’s playing tricks on me.’
Jean-Claude kissed her gently. ‘D’accord. You tell me when you’re ready to talk about the past. Tonight we’ll talk about us and perhaps the future.’
Nanette smiled at him gratefully as he took her hand and together they left the balcony. Nanette moved away from him to close the balcony doors and draw the heavy curtains across, but was startled by a loud knock on the apartment door.
‘Ah supper,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘I’ll get it. I missed dinner this evening because of my business appointment,’ he explained, returning with several steaming containers which he placed on the dining table.
‘I hope you like Chinese?’
Nanette organized the table, while Jean-Claude deftly turned out lights, lit candles, switched on the CD player and opened a bottle of wine. A few simple actions but Nanette realized that Jean-Claude had somehow introduced an atmosphere of intimacy into the room. Suddenly she felt shy and self-conscious. What was he expecting from her?
As the voice of Charles Aznavour singing a string of romantic melodies floated through the apartment, Jean-Claude turned to her.
‘Voilà! Let’s eat,’ and gallantly he pulled a chair out for her.
The sweet and sour pork was delicious and Nanette was surprised to find how hungry she was. It
wasn’t until Jean-Claude was pouring some wine that he glanced over and asked, ‘Has Mathieu ever said anything to you about his mother? Or about me for that matter?’
Startled Nanette shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Before we talk about the future, I think I need to tell you a little about my past,’ he said replacing the bottle in the terracotta wine cooler. ‘Amelia and I were childhood sweethearts – our birthdays were just two days apart. I was the youngest – a fact which always amused her. Neither of our families thought we were good enough for each other.’ Jean-Claude grinned ruefully. ‘But when she became pregnant they became united in demanding we get married. Mathieu was born on Amelia’s seventeenth birthday.’
He took a sip of his wine.
‘At first everything was fine but when Amelia’s family decided to move to Paris she thought we should go with them. I was all set to work in the family business and didn’t want to move. In the end she decided she wanted to go with them – with or without me – but taking Mathieu.’
‘That must have been hard for you to deal with,’ Nanette said quietly.
‘Oui. I don’t think Mathieu has ever forgiven me. Looking back I think maybe I should have gone to Paris with them, that things could have been different.’ Jean-Claude shook his head. ‘One makes mistakes in life – particularly when one is so young.
‘I visited as often as I could and we had some good times together but our lives were soon going in different directions.’ He sighed. ‘How could it do anything else? I was taking more and more responsibility for the family business and Amelia, well, let’s just say Amelia was enjoying her life in Paris.’
There was a short silence as he swirled the wine in his glass.
‘Mathieu was thirteen when Amelia was killed in a car crash and he came to live with me down here. Until all this blew up I thought I’d made a good job of raising him. We had a small problem with a car and some credit when he was a teenager, but on the whole he seemed to have become a well-adjusted, caring individual and I was proud of him. We had a good relationship. But now I just don’t understand him at all.’ Jean-Claude shook his head.
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