Follow Your Star (9 page)

Early Sunday morning and the balcony doors of Mathieu’s apartment were wide open. Nanette stood for a few moments watching the thousands of people making their way to highly prized seats in the harbour side grandstands.

Yacht crews on the luxury boats moored so close to each other their fenders barely able to keep the gleaming hulls apart, were busy serving strong coffee and croissants to guests who had partied the night away on board.

Nanette, glancing towards
Pole Position
knew that Zac would have been up at the crack of dawn to prepare for the day and wasn’t surprised to see just the crew moving around the boat’s fore deck. It had always been one of Zac’s unwritten rules – no guests on board the Saturday night before the Grand Prix.

Looking out across the starting grid, she could see cameramen and journalists milling around eager to get an exclusive early interview with anyone willing to express an opinion on the way they thought the day’s race would go.

She’d been away for so long she’d almost forgotten the excitement Monaco generated on race weekend, both on the track and off, as the jet set indulged themselves with a
combination of high octane living and fast cars.

The sound of highly tuned engines being revved was beginning to fill the air – a sign of the frenzied activity that Nanette knew would already be taking place out of sight in the garages at the back of the pit lane.

She turned as she heard the apartment door open and close. Mathieu.

‘That’s Olivia sorted for the day,’ he said, joining Nanette on the balcony. ‘A day at the Aqua Splash Park with friends is much more to her liking than watching a boring car race.’

He leant on the balcony and surveyed the crowds and the activity down below him.

‘Make you nostalgic for your old life?’ he asked, glancing at her. ‘All those VIP parties and events you and Zac used to go to.’

‘No, not really,’ Nanette answered. ‘It seems a lifetime away, so much has happened. It was fun at the time but things change – I’ve changed.’

‘Things certainly do change,’ Mathieu said, so quietly that Nanette barely heard him. He was silent for a few moments simply staring down into the pits area.

‘Mathieu, is everything all right?’ Nanette eventually asked, gently. ‘Is there anything I can help with?’

‘Thanks, Nanette,’ Mathieu said. ‘Things are a bit difficult at the moment but everything is under control.’ He smiled at her before changing the subject, effectively stopping her from asking any questions.

‘Should be a good race today. Zac did well qualifying for pole yesterday – let’s hope he can stay out in front for the race. Monaco is one circuit he hasn’t won.’

‘A win today would put him well in the lead for the
championship too,’ Nanette said. ‘And we all know he’s desperate to be world champion,’ she added drily. She hesitated before continuing. ‘Mathieu, I have to ask, are you sure it’s OK with Boris that I stay today?’

Mathieu looked at her surprised. ‘Why on earth wouldn’t it be?’

Nanette shrugged. ‘It’s just that I thought Boris wanted the place for him and his cronies. And the plan originally was for me to go to Jean-Claude’s, if you remember.’

‘It’s fine for both you and Pierre to be here. Jean-Claude is coming down too,’ Mathieu said. ‘So relax and enjoy the day.’

The apartment bell rang at that moment and Mathieu turned to greet the first of his guests. Boris acknowledged Nanette with a ‘
Bonjour madam
’ and a tilt of his head before roughly ruffling Pierre’s hair – an action that had the boy dodging out of his way. Within minutes, the rest of Boris’s party had arrived and Nanette and Pierre were ignored for the next hour.

To Nanette’s relief Jean-Claude arrived just as lunch was being served and together they sat at one of the small round tables Florence had set up on the balcony. Pierre, more interested in watching the scenes below than eating his lunch, had the binoculars trained on the pit lane.

The atmosphere on the balcony appeared to be one of general conviviality. Florence was handing food around and Mathieu was busy organizing drinks for everyone.

‘Mathieu seems in good spirits today,’ Jean-Claude said, glancing across at him.

‘Yes,’ Nanette said. ‘Although something is definitely worrying him.’

Jean-Claude raised his eyebrows questioningly.

‘I don’t know what, JC, but he did tell me everything was under control earlier this morning,’ Nanette said quietly with an anxious glance at Pierre.

‘Any news from Vanessa and Ralph?’ Jean-Claude asked, taking the hint and deftly changing the subject.

‘We had a letter from Mum yesterday,’ Pierre said, without removing his gaze from the cars lining up on the grid. ‘She’d given it to someone in the jungle to post when they went to a big town. Wish we could e-mail her but the village they are in doesn’t have electricity.’

‘Did she say how things were going?’ Jean-Claude asked.

‘Just that she was seeing some amazing things and as soon as she could she’d write again.’

The cars took off for their formation lap at that moment and Pierre pulled the official ear-protectors Zac had given him over his ears. By the time the warm-up lap was completed and the cars were back on the grid ready for the off, Boris and his guests were crowded on the balcony waiting for the start.

Everyone gazed as one by one the red starting lights went out and then the earth-shattering sound of high-performance cars making for the Saint Dévote bend at high speed before disappearing up the hill towards the Casino, blasted through the apartment. A loud cheer went up as Zac, making a perfect start, kept his lead, and within seconds had disappeared from view, leaving the cars behind him to juggle for better positions as best they could.

Now everyone’s attention switched to one of the large TV screens set up by the harbour. As she watched Zac fly past the Café de Paris on his way towards the Horseshoe Bend for the first time, Nanette hoped that the race would be trouble free. Monaco Grand Prix might be a firm favourite with the drivers
because of the challenges the street circuit gave them, but Nanette knew that simple fact made it more dangerous than any other racetrack.

Racing out of the tunnel and coming back down towards the harbour Zac was continuing to pull away from the cars behind him and had already put fifteen seconds between himself and the last car when he roared past the apartment again starting his second lap.

Boris and two of his guests moved back into the
sitting-room
soon after the start and began talking quietly amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at the race on the small television on the sideboard. Nanette, fetching a bottle of water from the kitchen, strained to hear what they were saying as she walked past but caught only the words ‘money’ and ‘yacht’.

Zac stayed comfortably ahead for the race, his team providing him with two perfect pit stops to keep him in the lead. Nanette, watching him climb the hill past the Hérmitage Hotel on his sixty-ninth lap knew that with just nine laps left, he was finally on target to win the Monaco Grand Prix with a nineteen second lead over the car in second place.

But then on lap seventy-two disaster struck. The driver in fourth position misjudged La Rascasse corner and drove into the wall. The uninjured, but frustrated driver, climbed out of his car, shaking his head sadly at the crowds. Yellow flags were waved and the safety car was soon out on the track and the drivers were forced to slow down. Under racing rules all cars had to keep to their current position – overtaking was not allowed whilst the safety car was out in front.

By the time the track was cleared of the crashed car and its debris, there were only two laps of the race left and all the
remaining cars had bunched up behind each other. As the safety car left the track everyone watching held their breath willing Zac to stay out of danger – and out front.

As he negotiated the chicane before the old swimming pool complex for the final time, the second and third cars were just seconds behind him but it was Zac who rounded La Rascasse and roared across the finishing line first to take the chequered flag.

Nanette joined in the spontaneous cheering that erupted along the balcony. Despite all that had happened between them she couldn’t help but be pleased for him.

‘Can I go down and watch the presentation?’ Pierre asked, excitedly.

‘We’ll come with you,’ Jean-Claude answered knowing Nanette wouldn’t let Pierre go alone.

Downstairs, the mechanics and other team members were crowding around and Prince Albert and the rest of his family had appeared, ready to present the trophies.

Nanette, Jean-Claude and Pierre managed to squeeze into a small space alongside the presentation stand. Standing there watching the ceremony as a jubilant Zac received his trophy from Prince Albert and held it aloft, Nanette felt a certain sense of
déjà vu
washing over her.

How many times had she watched similar ceremonies and then been at Zac’s side as he’d partied through the night? Now, as the champagne was shaken and sprayed everywhere, she joined in with the general noise of the victory celebrations, but her feelings were somehow detached from what was going on around her.

Running across to give the champagne bottle to his mechanics, Zac waved to Pierre and saw Nanette standing
alongside him.

Immediately he changed course and came over to them.

‘Congratulations, Zac,’ Jean-Claude said.

‘Thanks.’

Zac turned to Nanette. ‘Dinner tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. No excuses. I need to talk to you urgently.’

And he was gone back to his mechanics, leaving Nanette speechless – and angry with his assumption that of course she would obey his order.

A loud bang outside the apartment block woke Nanette with a jolt early Monday morning. Startled, it took her a second or two to realize it was the workmen starting the long process of dismantling barriers and stands and returning Monaco to its normal state for the next ten months.

Lying in bed for a few moments Nanette thought about Zac and his dinner ‘invitation’. She had talked about it to Jean-Claude last night before he returned to his villa.

‘I still have questions I’d like Zac to answer,’ she’d said. ‘Maybe he’s decided to talk to me.’

‘Perhaps he just wants to take you out to dinner and knew you wouldn’t willingly consider it,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘But in my experience Zac Ewart never does anything without a reason,’ he added quietly.

All day, as she went about her normal routine Nanette found herself thinking about Jean-Claude’s remark. By 8.00 p.m. though, when Zac rang the apartment bell, she’d convinced herself that their shared past was the reason Zac wanted to take her out for dinner.

‘Where are we going?’ Nanette asked, as the lift took them down to the ground floor.

‘We’re eating on board
Pole Position
,’ Zac said. ‘I’ve got a terrific chef this year and he’s promised me a meal to remember.’

Once on board, the yacht’s crew sprang into action, ensuring everything went smoothly. Sipping her champagne and nibbling canapés, Nanette looked around the main saloon as Zac pressed a couple of hidden buttons on the wall. Simultaneously the side windows opened letting in a gentle sea breeze and romantic piano music filtered through the sound system.

Zac, still on a high from his win, seemed determined to wine and dine himself back into Nanette’s favour.

When Nanette tried to ask him something about the accident, he placed a gentle finger against her lips.

‘Not this evening, Nanette. Tonight is a new beginning.’ He clicked his champagne glass against hers. ‘
Santé
’

Nanette looked at him, exasperated. ‘But I still have questions I want answered and you said you wanted to talk to me urgently.’

‘I do. Later. Now come and eat. We’ve got lobster especially for you.’

As he helped her to a generous portion of her favourite dish, Nanette’s thoughts drifted back three years, to a time when evenings like this with Zac had been the norm.

Candles in elaborate candelabra casting shadows, seductive music playing in the background, the moon shining on the Mediterranean. A perfect setting for romance. Nanette glanced at Zac. What exactly was he playing at tonight?

‘Are you doing anything special for your birthday this year?’ Zac asked.

Nanette shook her head. ‘No, nothing planned.’ She didn’t
add she hadn’t celebrated her birthday properly in the years since the accident. The two anniversaries were too close together.

‘I remember we always used to celebrate it early as I was racing. I’m going to Canada straight after the UK Grand Prix this weekend so I’ll miss it again. You’ll have to think of this as an early birthday treat,’ Zac said.

‘So long as you don’t plan on presenting me with a car later,’ Nanette said shortly. ‘Because—’ She stopped in
mid-sentence
and stared at him.

‘Because what?’ Zac asked, glancing at her curiously.

‘Because I’d have to decline of course,’ Nanette said. Carefully she placed her napkin on the table and stood up.

‘Zac, I’ve had a lovely meal, but I think I’d like to leave now if you don’t mind.’

Surprised, Zac followed her as she went to leave the saloon, and caught her by the hand.

‘At least dance with me for old times’ sake,’ he said.

And before she realized what was happening, Nanette was in his arms and the two of them were on deck swaying to ‘Lady in Red’ a favourite of theirs from the past.

As Zac held her close it was as if the last three years apart had never happened. He appeared to have conveniently forgotten the trauma, the hurt and the broken heart he’d left her with. But Nanette hadn’t and even if old emotions that she’d thought were dead forever were rising to the surface, she wasn’t about to give in to them.

When Zac began placing gentle kisses on her head a tremor of anger flooded through her body.

‘Zac, stop it now.’ Nanette pushed him away. ‘I’m leaving – don’t try and stop me again!’

Zac shrugged. ‘I just thought maybe you’d like to forget the past – put it behind us.’