One Summer in Monte Carlo

by Jennifer Bohnet

  ‘I’ve got to decide what I want to do. Vanessa’s come back fired up with enthusiasm for starting a Fruits of the Forest cooperative in Brazil. The twins are growing up and don’t need a nanny twenty-four hours a day now, so she’s offering me the job of helping her organise it – getting sponsorship, outlets, all the legal bits and pieces, you know the sort of thing.’

  ‘Sounds like something you’d enjoy,’ Patsy said. ‘I’d guess there would be a few trips to Brazil and the Amazon too.’

  ‘The thing is, the whole business would probably be based in the UK and…’ Nanette sighed.

  ‘Jean-Claude is in Monaco,’ Patsy finished the sentence for her. ‘Is it serious between you two?’

  ‘On Jean-Claude’s part for several weeks,’ Nanette admitted. ‘Now that my memory’s returned and the whole Zac Ewart business has been finished with, I feel free to return his love. You don’t think the age difference – fourteen years – is too much?’ she asked her sister anxiously.

  Before Patsy could answer, Dylan stirred in his pram and Nanette got up to check on her nephew. Picking him up and cradling him in her arms, she sat back down in the shade.

  ‘Lots of people marry with that age gap between them. From what I’ve seen of the two of you, you’re perfect together. He adores you and, no, of course he’s not too old,’ Patsy said. ‘Might be wise to check with him how he feels about babies, if you’re thinking of having a family with him. He might think, been there, done that and just want you to himself.’

  Nanette nodded thoughtfully. Patsy could be right, but she was rather hoping that Jean-Claude would happily embrace the idea of them having a baby together. From the way he’d spoken about Mathieu and Amelia, she suspected he would be. But it was a question only he could answer.

  42

  Nanette picked up a magazine and a paper from the newsagent in the departure lounge on Monday afternoon and settled down to wait for her flight back to Nice.

  She’d enjoyed her few days with Patsy and baby Dylan but had missed Jean-Claude desperately. She smiled happily to herself – a few more hours and they would be together, with no responsibilities to worry about, just time to enjoy each other’s company.

  The newspaper was full of Zac’s performance in the Austrian Grand Prix the previous day. He’d driven a faultless race and won convincingly, according to the reporter. His nearest rival for the championship had only managed ninth place, thus increasing Zac’s lead substantially.

  Nanette stared dispassionately at the photograph of Zac standing jubilantly on the podium, before turning to the women’s pages. Zac Ewart was no longer a part of her life. She wouldn’t waste her time reading about him.

  Three hours later, she stretched her legs as the captain’s voice crackled through the intercom of the 737.

  ‘Welcome to the French Riviera. The temperature in Nice and along the Côte d’Azure is thirty-three degrees and the forecast is good for next few days.’

  Collecting her suitcase from the carousel, Nanette looked through the glass windows towards the arrivals hall. As he’d promised, Jean-Claude was there waiting for her. She smiled happily and waved. Exiting the door from the final customs checkpoint, she walked towards him, looking forward to his welcoming kiss.

  Surrendering herself to his arms, oblivious to the milling crowds, she sensed a tension in his body.

  ‘Is something wrong? Has something happened to Mathieu?’

  ‘Non, it’s not Mathieu. Let’s have a coffee before we drive home,’ Jean-Claude said, taking her suitcase and leading her to the escalator to go to the fourth floor.

  Seated at a window table of La Badiane lounge with its view out over the runways, Jean-Claude ordered two coffees before gently taking both of Nanette’s hands in his.

  ‘Zac drove home after winning the Austrian Grand Prix via his friends the Oliviers, breaking his journey and staying overnight with them. They have a farm up in the hills – do you remember them?’

  Nanette nodded. ‘They live near Entrevaux. We used to visit them a lot. Mathieu took the twins there fairly recently.’

  ‘I have some bad news, ma chérie. Zac left there early this morning and got involved in an incident on one of the isolated mountain roads.’

  ‘What sort of incident?’

  ‘A car had overturned on a hairpin bend. A mother and baby were trapped inside. When Zac came on the scene, the only thing stopping it from tumbling down the gorge was a tree. Zac managed to pull the woman out before going back for the child.’ Jean-Claude was silent for a moment. ‘As he was struggling to undo the baby seat, the car burst into flames.’

  Nanette gave an involuntary gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Did he get the baby out?’

  ‘Yes, wrapped in a blanket. But Zac himself suffered third-degree burns. The doctors are very non-committal about his chances.’

  Nanette turned and stared unseeingly as a plane landed and taxied down the runway, her thoughts in such turmoil, she barely registered Jean-Claude’s next words.

  ‘The thing is, ma chérie, I know things are over between the two of you, but in his delirious state, he’s been crying out for you. Can you bear the thought of holding a vigil at his bedside?’

  Nanette clutched Jean-Claude’s hand tightly as they made their way into the Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco. They found Zac in a small private room, wired up to a large piece of apparatus that was emitting a series of steady bleeps. Nanette swallowed hard as she looked at the heavily bandaged figure in the bed, unable to see any recognisable features and thinking it could be anyone.

  Quietly, Nanette approached the bed.

  ‘Zac?’ she said softly.

  No response.

  Nanette turned questioningly to the nurse making notes of a reading off the machine.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Monsieur Ewart slipped into a coma an hour ago.’

  Nanette glanced across at Jean-Claude.

  ‘Why don’t you sit down here?’ he said, pulling a chair towards the side of the bed. ‘I’ll go and find us some coffee.’

  Sitting there, gazing at Zac’s motionless body, Nanette felt the tears welling up. Through the years they had been together, she had become hardened every time Zac climbed in a racing car, to expect the worst. She’d always known it was a dangerous sport where fatal accidents occurred despite all the modern safety measures and regulations. She’d learned to live with that fear, keeping her worries to herself and never mentioning them to Zac. He was doing a job he loved and living his life the way he wanted to and she’d reasoned it wasn’t up to her to stop him.

  To see him now, lying here in a hospital bed because he’d helped someone else was a cruel irony. Nanette bit her lip, determined not to cry at the unfairness of it all.

  Tentatively, with her fingertips, she gently touched his bandaged hand, hoping against hope that he would open his eyes. However much he had hurt her, however much he had reviled her, she had once loved this man.

  ‘I’m here, Zac,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t die.’

  Jean-Claude returned with coffee and a sandwich for her. Moving away from the bed, Nanette gratefully accepted the plastic cup of steaming coffee but shook her head at the sandwich he offered.

  ‘Thank you, but I couldn’t eat anything.’

  A sudden discordant beep from the machine at Zac’s side brought another nurse hurrying into the room, but seconds later the machine had settled back into its steady bleep, bleep.

  The nurse shook her head in response to Nanette’s worried look but didn’t say anything as she left the room. Nanette gave a deep sigh as she moved back towards the bed, willing herself to think positive thoughts, and praying that Zac would be all right.

  It was late evening before Jean-Claude persuaded Nanette it was time to go home.

  ‘You need to get some sleep, ma chérie. To eat something. If there’s a change in Zac’s condition overnight, the hospital will ring, and we’ll come straight back, I promise,’ Jean-Claude said. �
��There is nothing you can do here.’

  Glancing back as they left the room, Nanette sent a silent prayer winging in Zac’s direction. Please, please wake up tomorrow. I want you to know how brave we all think you were.

  The lights were on in the villa as they drove up and Mathieu’s car was parked in the driveway. Mathieu himself opened the front door to them.

  ‘How’s Zac?’

  ‘He’s been in a coma since this morning,’ Jean-Claude replied quietly. ‘What are you doing here? Do you have some news? A problem?’

  Mathieu shook his head. ‘No problem. I wanted you to know that Boris was finally allowed to post bail today and he’s out on remand. He’s had to surrender his passport, of course, and must report to the police every day.’ He looked at his father. ‘As far as he’s concerned, I’m still helping him, so the pretence goes on for at least a few more days. I’m hoping that he’s finally going to give me the name of his contact in Brazil who organises the diamond smuggling. I can hand the completed file over to the police then.’

  ‘Does Boris know about Zac?’ Jean-Claude asked.

  ‘Yes. He’s asked me to let him know the moment there is any change. He says he and Zac still have some unfinished business.’

  ‘The stuff I put in the safe!’ Nanette gasped. ‘Do you think it’s still there?’

  Mathieu shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe Zac moved it on before he left for the French Grand Prix. The unfinished business could be something to do with setting up Vacances au Soleil.’

  Patsy phoned that evening. ‘I’ve just heard about Zac on the BBC. Is it really as serious as they say?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nanette managed to answer. ‘JC took me straight to the hospital as apparently Zac was asking for me, but he was in a coma by the time I got there,’ Nanette told her. ‘It doesn’t look too good, to be honest. All we can do is pray that he pulls through. I’m going back in the morning, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’

  Nanette spent a restless night in Jean-Claude’s guest suite, unable to sleep, fearful that the phone would ring, summoning her back to Zac’s bedside.

  Early-morning sunlight was streaming in through the French doors of the sitting room when she went downstairs. Jean-Claude was in the kitchen, listening to the news on the radio and preparing a breakfast tray for her.

  ‘After you eat, I take you to the hospital,’ he said, pouring her a large mug of coffee.

  Nanette smiled her thanks and cupped her hands around it. Information about Zac’s accident was dominating the local radio stations’ news bulletins and Nanette tensed as the voice of the woman he’d rescued came on the air. Praising his actions and calling him a hero, the woman sobbed with gratitude as she publicly thanked Zac for saving both her and her baby daughter and wished him a speedy recovery.

  Silently, Jean-Claude leant across and switched off the radio. ‘Breakfast, ma chérie, then we leave for the hospital.’

  There was a small group of journalists hanging around the main entrance to the hospital as they arrived. One of them clearly recognised Nanette, but a glare from Jean-Claude and a sharp warning ‘Non’ stopped him in the act of pointing his camera at her.

  Zac’s room was full of doctors and nurses and a worried Nanette and Jean-Claude had to wait outside for some time before they were allowed in.

  ‘Is there any improvement in his condition?’ Nanette asked.

  ‘Monsieur Ewart had a stable night,’ a young nurse informed them, ‘but he remains unconscious.’

  Nanette sat by his bedside all day, leaving only for a short time when Jean-Claude insisted she needed some fresh air and something to eat.

  It was early afternoon when Zac stirred briefly and returned the gentle pressure as Nanette held his hand. That hardly-felt squeeze filled Nanette with hope, but the rest of the afternoon passed without any further progress in his condition.

  At eight o’clock, as Jean-Claude suggested they should think about preparing to leave for the day, Zac unexpectedly opened his eyes and looked at them.

  Nanette felt her heart skip a beat as she smiled down at him. ‘Hello, Zac.’

  ‘Sorry. Shouldn’t have lied.’ The words were spoken so softly that Nanette could barely hear them. She bent over him, eager to catch his next words. ‘Please forgive me.’

  ‘Of course, Zac. It’s in the past. Just get well.’ Nanette glanced up as the machine started to emit a series of quick beeps and a nurse bustled in to check it.

  ‘Would you mind leaving and coming back tomorrow please?’ The tone of the nurse’s voice suggested it was more an order than a request.

  As she went to leave, Zac murmured her name, ‘Nanette – thank you.’

  Nanette smiled at him and shook her head. ‘Thank you, Zac. There is one very grateful mother and baby out there telling the world what a hero you are.’ Gently she lent down and placed a kiss on his forehead – the only part of his face that wasn’t covered in a bandage. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Zac.’

  Moving towards the door where Jean-Claude was waiting for her, she smiled again and mouthed ‘goodbye’. She just caught the whispered words ‘Be happy, Nanette’ before Zac’s eyes closed again.

  Jean-Claude held her hand tightly as he quickly led her past the journalists still waiting in the foyer.

  ‘Any news?’ one called out.

  ‘Non,’ Jean-Claude answered shortly.

  To Nanette’s surprise, Jean-Claude didn’t drive straight back to the villa, instead he drove down to Cap d’Ail and parked the car.

  ‘Come on, a walk along the beach to blow the cobwebs away,’ he said. ‘You need some fresh air before we go home for supper.’

  Strolling along with Jean-Claude’s arm around her shoulders holding her tight, Nanette felt strangely detached from reality. The last thirty-six hours had passed in a blur. Only now was she beginning to fully comprehend what had happened.

  Zac’s delirious ramblings had taken her to his bedside out of compassion and in remembrance of their past love. Now, as the breeze off the Mediterranean ruffled her hair, she thought about that love. How Zac’s actions had changed it – how she had changed in the aftermath of her accident.

  ‘If – when – Zac comes out of hospital, he will still need a lot of care for some time,’ Jean-Claude said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Round-the-clock attendance probably.’

  Nanette nodded. ‘I’ll find the best for him. We’ll nurse him back to health. Thank goodness he can afford all the care and help we need.’

  At her words, Jean-Claude stopped walking and turned Nanette to face him. ‘You are going to help nurse him?’

  ‘No, not nurse him, but I’ll organise his day-to-day needs. He has no one else. He was an only child and his parents died years ago – long before he became a racing driver.’

  Jean-Claude nodded thoughtfully. ‘How do you think he will react to the scars he is clearly going to have? Modern plastic surgery can do so much, but I’d hazard a guess that Zac’s good looks have gone forever.’

  ‘He’s never been a bitter man – arrogant and self-seeking, maybe,’ Nanette answered slowly. ‘I think once he knows the extent of his injuries, he’ll get on with improving what he can and simply accept what he can’t. He’s always been very strong like that.’

  ‘And you, ma chérie?’ Jean-Claude gazed at her intently. ‘How strong are you? How will you deal with a damaged Zac Ewart in your life?’

  ‘JC, I can’t just walk away from him.’ The thought, like he did to me, she mentally squashed.

  ‘I wouldn’t ask you to. I just don’t want you to be hurt again.’

  ‘I won’t be, I promise.’ Nanette put a hand up and gently stroked Jean-Claude’s face. ‘Can I tell you something? Sitting at Zac’s bedside, I thought about you and me and wondered how I’d feel if it were you in that hospital bed.’ Reaching up, she kissed him. ‘I couldn’t bear it. I would really be hurting then.’

  He hugged her tightly for several seconds before releasing her
. ‘Come on, let’s walk.’

  Dusk was falling as they returned to the villa. Mathieu met them at the door, his face serious.

  ‘The hospital rang. Zac suffered a stroke shortly after you left. Nanette, I’m sorry, they did everything possible, but they couldn’t save him.’

  43

  Nanette lay on the airbed, her fingers dangling in the cool water as she drifted aimlessly around the pool. Jean-Claude had urged her to go for a swim, but she simply didn’t have the energy.

  She’d felt so positive that evening, walking on the beach with Jean-Claude, watching the setting sun, believing against all odds that Zac was going to recover now he’d regained consciousness and making plans for his future care.

  The numbness that had descended over her as Mathieu told them the sad news had drained her of all rational thought and energy. Only Jean-Claude’s quiet, loving presence had kept her focused on the things that needed to be done.

  Nanette knew that the F1 world would want to pay their respects to one of their own, but in the middle of a busy racing season, it would throw up all sorts of logistical problems for drivers and their teams to attend. Jean-Claude had helped her set up the small private funeral service for Zac that would take place tomorrow in the church at the cemetery. They’d announce details of the memorial service they planned to hold in December at the end of the racing season.

  An unknown Monsieur Mille had phoned, wanting an urgent meeting with her that afternoon. Jean-Claude had been strangely reticent about the man, saying simply that the name seemed familiar, but he wasn’t sure, and, as Monsieur Mille had declined to give details over the telephone, she’d have to wait and see what it was all about.

  Reluctantly, Nanette paddled the airbed towards the pool steps. The mysterious Monsieur Mille would be here soon. She needed to shower and get dressed. Maybe she’d start to shake off this stupor after tomorrow when the saga of her and Zac would finally be laid to rest alongside his poor burned body.