The three of them were having a late supper around the kitchen table and Vanessa was saying how much she’d enjoyed their weekend on Burgh Island.
‘The hotel was wonderful. So luxurious. And its spa treatment room, sheer bliss,’ Vanessa sighed happily. ‘I haven’t ever been spoilt in quite the same way, even in Monaco. Something I could get used to, I warn you.’ Vanessa smiled at Ralph, who gave her an amused glance.
‘I think the Amazon jungle will soon bring you back down to earth,’ Ralph said.
‘Ah,’ Nanette said, pushing her supper plate away and picking up her still half-full glass of red wine. ‘About that.’ She took a mouthful before placing the glass back down on the table and looking at Vanessa. ‘First, are you still certain Mathieu and Jean-Claude can’t manage without me being there?’
‘Mathieu is adamant that he’s got too much on over the next few months for him to guarantee being available on a day-to-day basis. Jean-Claude, I know, will step in and help, but he’s busy with his business too. And, honestly, I’d feel so much happier if you were looking after them while we are away. You’re such a constant in their lives already. And I trust you to put them first whatever the circumstances.’
Nanette took a deep breath. ‘For you and the twins, I will go with them to Monaco and look after them. I can’t say I truly relish the idea of returning there but…’ And she gave a resigned shrug.
Vanessa was on her feet and rushed round to hug Nanette. ‘Thank you, thank you – I know it’s been a difficult decision for you. I promise you Jean-Claude will do everything to make your stay as easy as possible, even if Mathieu is away on business a lot,’ Vanessa said. ‘I can’t thank you enough for agreeing.’
‘Neither can I.’ Ralph quietly added his thanks to Vanessa’s. ‘A toast, I think? To Nanette, for Monaco, and to us, for the Amazon.’
Nanette smiled her acknowledgement of the toast as they all clinked glasses. Inwardly, though, she was terrified and fighting an overwhelming urge to shout out – I was joking. I didn’t mean it. I can’t possibly go back to Monaco.
And she definitely didn’t have an answer to the other major, panic-stricken thought going round and round in her mind: What have I done?
After a couple of weeks of frenzied preparations, Vanessa and Ralph departed for Brazil, leaving Nanette with no option but to fly to France with the twins.
As the plane lost height in preparation for landing at Nice Côte d’Azur airport, Nanette caught a glimpse of the famous giant pyramids complex on the Baie des Anges, in Villeneuve-Loubet. Built to resemble waves, standing seventy metres high above sea level, the apartment blocks overlooked a marina and the Mediterranean Sea. A sight that so many times in the past she’d been happy to see as she’d returned to Monaco after being away working. Today though, she didn’t feel the happiness, just a flood of unwelcome memories.
By the time the plane touched down some minutes later and taxied along the landing strip that ran alongside the edge of the sea, Nanette had taken several deep breaths. For better for worse, she was back in the South of France.
The Mediterranean sparkled under a warm March sun and she remembered how in the past returning had felt like coming home, and she’d always felt content to be back. Not today though. Today she was a bundle of apprehension, wondering what she would be forced to confront in the coming days and weeks. Whatever the next few months had in store for her, she prayed that the turbulence of her past wouldn’t intrude into the future.
She undid her seatbelt and began to gather their things. The twins were already on their feet, excited at the prospect of the next part of the journey. Normally transfer to Monaco for them was via tram from the airport and then a train from Nice, but as a special treat, Vanessa had arranged a helicopter flight for the three of them.
Walking through the arrivals hall, Nanette put on her large sunglasses. She knew from experience that there was always the odd photographer, or even a group of paparazzi, lurking around the airport in the hope of snapping someone famous on their way out to the helicopter pad for transfer to Monaco. She knew she was unlikely to be of any interest, but hiding her eyes and obscuring her face behind the dark glasses made her feel better.
It wasn’t the paparazzi who greeted her, though, as she walked towards the helicopter check-in desk: it was a large billboard advertising the Monaco Grand Prix in May.
But it was the smaller poster featuring a film-star-style close-up of the man regarded as the local hero, with the words ‘Is this Zac’s year?’ emblazoned over it that took her breath away. Seeing Zac’s familiar face smiling out at her made Nanette want to do the impossible: run and catch the next flight back to the UK and safety. Impossible though; she’d given Vanessa and Ralph her word. She just had to spend one summer in Monte Carlo, as she’d agreed, and then she need never return again.
Turning her back on the poster and trying to shut the images and the memories it invoked out of her mind, Nanette handed over the flight reservation tickets to the desk clerk.
‘Great,’ Pierre said excitedly. ‘We’ll be here for the Grand Prix. Do you think Dad will be able to get us some passes for the pit lane?’
‘I shouldn’t be surprised,’ Nanette said, with a sinking feeling. She’d totally forgotten their time in Monaco would clash with the race. That a certain person would obviously be in town. Pierre, being a typical boy, would naturally be fascinated by the racing cars and their drivers and would want to go out and about at race weekend to see as much as possible.
‘Well, I don’t want a pass,’ Olivia said. ‘I hate the noise those cars make. It hurts my ears.’
Inwardly, Nanette agreed with Olivia. Not because of the noise, but the last thing she wanted too, was a ticket to anything that involved contact with Zachary Ewart. Maybe Mathieu would be around at Grand Prix time and would take Pierre down to the pit lane while she and Olivia stayed well away.
The twins clambered happily into their seats in the helicopter, leaving Nanette to sit alongside the pilot. As the turbines screamed and the rotors beat the air, the helicopter took off in a rush of noise, and Nanette took several deep, steadying breaths.
The pilot glanced at her sympathetically. ‘First helicopter trip? You look a bit nervous. It’s only fifteen minutes.’
Nanette shook her head. ‘No. It’s not my first trip, but I am nervous.’
Staring out through the window at the coastline that had once been so familiar to her, Nanette didn’t add that it wasn’t the flight she was nervous about, but the fact that she was returning to Monaco.
After landing at the helipad in Fontvieille, a downtown extension of Monaco which had been built on land reclaimed from the sea, Nanette and the twins took a taxi to Mathieu’s apartment on Boulevard Albert 1er, overlooking the old port. As the taxi took them through one of the many tunnels that made their way, mole-like, under the Principality’s roads, Nanette remembered how surprised she’d been the first time she’d arrived by the existence of this underground road system, hewn out of the rocks that lined the walls. She’d never suspected such a labyrinth of tunnels under Monte Carlo even existed.
Within minutes, they were back above ground and the taxi was stopping outside Mathieu’s apartment block. Moments later and the twins were knocking on the door of his ninth-floor apartment.
To Nanette’s surprise, it was Jean-Claude, Mathieu’s French father, who opened the door to them.
‘Bonjour mes petits and welcome,’ he said, hugging the twins before turning and giving Nanette a light kiss on each cheek.
She liked Jean-Claude and they had always got on well on the few occasions they’d met, although secretly Nanette wondered how on earth he could really be Mathieu’s father. Older brother, yes, but father? He simply did not look or behave old enough.
‘Where’s Daddy?’ Olivia asked, disappointedly.
‘He’ll be here later, ma petite,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘He has to take care of some business this afternoon. You two can take your things through
to your rooms while I show Nanette hers. Lemonade and biscuits on the balcony in ten minutes.’
Once the twins were safely out of earshot, Jean-Claude turned to Nanette hesitantly.
‘Mathieu offers apologies, but something came up that he couldn’t get out of. He hopes to be here later this evening. In the meantime, I take care of things. Help you settle in, give you keys and things. I stay tonight in case he doesn’t return.’ Jean-Claude picked up Nanette’s suitcase. ‘You haven’t been to this apartment before, have you?’
Nanette shook her head. ‘No, Mathieu had a place up near the casino itself the last time I was here. It was a lot smaller than this one.’
‘Come on then, I show you around.’
The apartment, with its five bedrooms, all with en-suite bathrooms, a large sitting room with doors opening out on to the balcony, was as sumptuous as any Nanette had ever been in. Fleetingly, she wondered how Mathieu could afford such luxury, she’d never really known what sort of business he had, but maybe Jean-Claude, who she knew ran a successful wine business, had helped him out.
Her own room was charming – with a mixture of French Provençal furnishings blending in with some more modern pieces, its own balcony with a view out over the harbour and a bathroom with marble and gold fittings.
‘It’s a very grand apartment,’ Nanette said slowly.
Jean-Claude smiled. ‘I have the feeling having the twins living here permanently for a few months rather than simply visiting will turn it into more of a home. Now, I’m sure Florence will have tea and biscuits ready on the balcony. We join the twins?’
‘Who is Florence?’ Nanette asked, as they made their way back to the sitting room.
‘Mathieu’s housekeeper.’
Nanette turned and looked at Jean-Claude in surprise. ‘But that’s partly what I thought I was here to be. Mathieu doesn’t really need me if he’s already got a housekeeper and you to help.’
‘You’re here simply to look after the twins – organise them when they are not at school, including evenings and weekends, of course.’
‘That’s still going to leave me with an awful lot of time on my hands,’ Nanette protested. ‘With nothing to do.’
Jean-Claude didn’t answer. He simply raised his eyebrows at her quizzically. ‘I’m sure you find plenty to do once you settle in. Merci, Florence,’ he said as the housekeeper arrived with a tray. ‘We manage now.’
Distractedly, Nanette accepted the cup of tea Jean-Claude handed her.
‘Vanessa and Ralph got away all right yesterday?’ Jean-Claude asked.
Nanette nodded, forcing herself to focus. ‘The twins and I went to Heathrow to wave them goodbye at the crack of dawn. They should be sleeping off their jet lag right now. Vanessa said she’d try to phone tonight to make sure everything was OK this end.’
‘Netty, Pierre wants to play with his computer game and I want to watch television in my room,’ Olivia said. ‘May we?’
‘Half an hour,’ Nanette agreed, and smiled as the twins dashed away.
‘Nanette, I need to talk to you,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘To explain something.’
Nanette looked at him in surprise.
‘I have to be honest with you. I don’t say anything in front of the twins, but I think you have the right to know. It’s extremely unlikely that Mathieu will be here tonight.’
Nanette waited as a clearly unhappy Jean-Claude ran his hands through his hair.
‘I’ve spent most of this afternoon with my lawyers,’ he said, ‘trying to sort things out, but…’ Jean-Claude shrugged unhappily as he looked at her. There was a pause before he added, ‘Mathieu hasn’t been delayed by business: he’s been arrested.’
5
Three days later, Nanette was enjoying a coffee and a croissant at one of the cafés that edged the La Condamine Monaco flower and vegetable market, when her mobile rang.
‘Hi, Patsy. Everything all right?’ she asked quickly, as her sister’s number flashed on the screen.
‘Yes. Just wondering how you are. Texts are all very well, but I need to hear your voice. I start to worry when we don’t actually speak to each other. I wonder what you’re not telling me,’ Patsy said.
‘Sorry. My silence wasn’t deliberate, it’s just that things have been a bit upside down here since we arrived, but everything’s fine here now.’
‘What do you mean now?’ Patsy demanded. ‘What’s happened? Are the twins all right? Are you?’
‘The twins and I are fine.’ Nanette hesitated. ‘Mathieu wasn’t here when I arrived. He’d been arrested.’ Quickly, before Patsy could draw breath, Nanette continued, ‘He’s out now. They kept him in for twenty-four hours before releasing him on bail. He has to report back once a week.’
‘What’s he done?’
‘I don’t know exactly. Something to do with his business,’ Nanette said. ‘Apparently all he said to Jean-Claude was it’s nothing to worry about and that he’d got it sorted.’
She didn’t add that Jean-Claude was furious with his son for not asking him to put up the bail money. Instead, an unnamed foreign business associate had stood surety. Privately, Nanette thought it sounded more than shifty but she’d kept those thoughts to herself and decided not to mention the incident to Vanessa when she got in touch. Mathieu himself was acting much as normal, which she took as a good sign.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t rung you before, but as you can imagine, trying to occupy the twins and keep the news of their father’s arrest from them hasn’t left much time for anything else. Thankfully, Mathieu has taken them to Marineland in Villneuve-Loubet today to give me a couple of free hours. Jean-Claude is organising an extra computer for them, so they’ll be able to follow Vanessa and Ralph’s progress from this weekend.’
‘Have you heard from them?’
‘Only a quick text to say that she’d tried to phone last night but couldn’t get through for some reason but they’ve arrived safely in Brazil and are enjoying themselves. Their honeymoon will be over next weekend when they fly up into the jungle and meet up with the film crew ready to begin filming the documentary.’
‘When do the twins start school?’
‘Monday, so that’s something else we’ve been busy doing: sorting clothes, buying books and stationery and backpacks big enough to carry everything. Honestly, the amount of stuff they have to carry on a daily basis is unbelievable.’
‘What about you?’ Patsy asked. ‘How are you coping with being back in Monaco? Met up with anyone from your past yet?’
‘If you mean, have I seen Zac, the answer is no. How’s your morning sickness?’ she asked, deftly changing the subject.
‘Slowing down, thank goodness,’ Patsy said. ‘I’d better go – Helen is about to arrive and if she realises I’m on the phone to you, I shall get a lecture about wasting Bryan’s hard-earned money on foreign phone calls – even though its WhatsApp!’
‘I’ll ring you at the weekend,’ Nanette said, laughing. ‘Take care.’
Thoughtfully, she put the phone in her bag and looked around her at the colourful scene. Local housewives and Filipino servants with raffia baskets were busy doing their daily fresh vegetable shop and Nanette could see the walkway up to the palace was crowded with tourists.
It was hard to believe she was back here. If someone had told her last year that she would be living in Monaco again, her immediate reaction would have been outright disbelief. The scars were still too sore then to even contemplate returning. Now, having settled in, and despite the problems of the last few days, Nanette was beginning to enjoy being back. The Principality had always been a special place for her and she’d been sad everything had fallen apart in such a horrendous way.
She realised after she’d finished talking to Patsy that she’d forgotten to tell her about last night when Mathieu had taken her out to dinner after the twins were in bed and Florence was babysitting. Partly to apologise for not being there when she arrived and simply, ‘Because I’d like to,’ he’d said, w
ith a disarming smile when suggesting it. The evening, though, had ended on a strange note.
The small family-run bistro he’d taken her to was a familiar one, hidden in one of the back streets, away from the tourist haunts. Nanette had pushed the thought of the last time she’d been in there with Zac away and tried to ‘live in the moment’, as all the self-help books advised, rather than let that memory cloud the evening.
‘I’m so glad you decided you’d come with the twins,’ Mathieu had said, as they’d waited for their first course to arrive.
‘Can’t understand why you wanted me here really,’ Nanette had replied. ‘Florence lives in, and Jean-Claude seems more than happy to help look after the twins.’
‘Vanessa thought it was important for Pierre and Olivia to have some sort of continuity in their lives. They are used to you looking after them when Vanessa is away. It certainly makes things easier for me, knowing you’re in charge.’ He’d smiled at her and added, ‘And it was definitely less of a worry for me earlier in the week, knowing that you were here with them.’ There was a slight pause before he had said quietly, ‘I have to confess to an ulterior motive too. I also hoped we could get to know each other better. That perhaps you could stop thinking of me simply as the twins’ father and we could become better friends.’
The waiter arriving with their starters at that moment had spared a surprised Nanette from responding. She hoped becoming better friends was all that Mathieu had in mind. There was no way she’d even think about getting involved with him. He was her best friend’s ex-husband, for goodness sake. Thankfully, Mathieu had changed the conversation to more general things once the waiter left them.
‘It’s the Tennis Masters Series soon,’ he had said. ‘I remember you and Zac used to play a lot. I’ve been offered the chance of a couple of tickets for the opening day, would you like to come with me?’
‘Oh please,’ Nanette had replied, ignoring the flicker of pain at the mention of Zac. They had been passionate about tennis, both playing and watching. To actually go to a Tennis Masters match would be wonderful. Zac had always been tied up with racing by April when the event happened and had never managed to schedule it into his programme.
One Summer in Monte Carlo Page 3