Follow Your Star

by Jennifer Bohnet

  Zac, Nanette noted, had the grace to look upset at her outburst.

  ‘You still don’t remember any details of the accident then?’ he asked, stirring his coffee, not looking at her.

  ‘No. Other than it was only the second time I’d driven the car,’ Nanette said.

  She didn’t tell him, she remembered vividly all the details of the afternoon when Zac had presented her with the racy convertible – an early birthday present. She’d loved it and had immediately jumped into it and driven Zac around Monaco, showing the car off to all her friends.

  Nine hours later the car was a mangled wreck on the autoroute and she was in intensive care in the Princess Grace Hospital.

  Nanette stared at him.

  ‘And no-one has ever explained why I was flown back to the UK within forty-eight hours of coming out of intensive care. Why wasn’t I just allowed to stay here and recover?’

  ‘Everyone thought you’d be better off at home,’ he said evasively.

  ‘This was my home. And who’s this everyone?’ Nanette demanded.

  There was a brief silence as Zac pulled his croissant apart before turning to face her.

  ‘It was my decision,’ he said quietly. ‘I made all the arrangements.’

  ‘Didn’t want the responsibility of caring for me, is that it? Scared I was going to be permanently scarred or disabled?’

  Zac shook his head. ‘I just thought you’d be better off where Patsy could administer some tender loving care. Nurse you back to health. Come on, Nanette, you know what my racing schedule is like from June to October, I’m never in town for more than two or three days at a time. There was no way I could play doctors and nurses all summer.’

  ‘But why—’

  Zac held up his hands. ‘Stop. Enough questions. All I can say is, I’m sorry I hurt you in the past, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s history. I’m glad you’re back in Monaco looking so well and I hope we can be friends.’

  As he said this, he looked at her quizzically before adding, ‘Or at the very least be civil to each other when we meet.’

  When she didn’t answer, he sighed before reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket and taking out a brown envelope.

  ‘Pit lane passes. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you on Sunday – and please think about coming to my party. Pole Position has been refurbished recently – she’s looking really smart, I’d like you to see the changes. Right, thanks for breakfast— Stay there. I’ll see myself out. Ciao.’

  As the apartment door slammed behind him, Nanette sank down trembling on to a chair, relief flooding through her body. The meeting she’d been dreading was over and she could only be grateful that it had taken place privately, not in public. At least now that it had happened she wouldn’t have to skulk around Monaco worrying she was about to bump into him and wondering what his reaction would be. He was right, of course, they were bound to meet up from time to time and it was far better all round if they were civil to each other.

  Not that she felt very civil towards him right now, after that casual remark about forgiving and forgetting the past. As if it was that easy. He still hadn’t explained why he had not been in touch once he’d shipped her back to Patsy.

  Sitting there, trying to analyse her feelings about the meeting and for Zac Ewart, Nanette frowned. There were still questions to which she needed answers and until her memory returned fully, Zac Ewart was the only person who could give them, which clearly he had no intention of doing.

  Smothering a sigh, she picked up the breakfast tray and returned it to the kitchen. For how much longer was the legacy of her past to haunt her future?

  After Nanette had collected the twins from school on Wednesday afternoon they walked up to Jean-Claude’s villa where Mathieu had said he would join them in the swimming pool.

  There was no sign of anyone when they arrived, but Nanette could hear raised voices coming from Jean-Claude’s study.

  ‘You two go on down to the pool room and get changed but do not get into the pool until I, or Daddy, get there. Understand? I’ll just go and tell Papa Jean-Claude we’re here and see where your father is.’

  Nanette recognized Mathieu’s angry voice as she got close to the window of the ground-floor study.

  ‘Get off my back, Papa. I know what I’m doing and I don’t need your advice.’

  ‘The last time you shouted that at me you ended up needing me though – and my money, remember?’

  ‘Never going to let me forget that, are you? I was nineteen for god’s sake!’

  ‘Whether you want my advice or not, I’m telling you you’re getting involved in dangerous waters. These people you’re involved with will cast you aside when they have no further use for you. They’ll throw you to the lions without a second thought.’

  ‘I don’t happen to agree with you, but if it happens – it’s my problem not yours.’

  ‘The fact that you’re my son and you’re besmirching the family name makes it my problem.’

  Nanette could hear the tension in Jean-Claude’s voice as she edged nearer the study door.

  ‘Just remember the twins too. They need their father around. Not languishing in jail for some unrealistic get-rich-quick crime he was stupid enough to get involved with. And, Mathieu, never forget, you can be thrown out of the Principality. If the Grimaldis can do it to one of their own, then it can happen to anyone.’

  To Nanette’s ears, the silence following Jean-Claude’s last remark seemed to last forever. She was just about to knock on the door and call out, when Mathieu spoke again. This time he appeared to be measuring his words carefully.

  ‘Papa, please trust me on this. I do actually know what I’m doing and in a couple of months you, and everyone else, will realize it too.’

  ‘I hope so, Mathieu. I sincerely hope so,’ Jean-Claude said quietly.

  Both men turned as Nanette opened the study door.

  ‘Hi. The twins are waiting for you down by the pool, Mathieu,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry – I forgot the time. I’ll see you later, Dad,’ and Mathieu left.

  Jean-Claude looked at her. ‘How much did you overhear?’

  Nanette shrugged. ‘Enough to realize how worried you still are about Mathieu. Has something else happened?’

  ‘No – other than I have now met Boris and took an instant dislike to the man. Also’ – he hesitated – ‘there are rumours flying around about an illegal cartel involving several high-profile personalities.’

  ‘But you don’t know for sure that Mathieu is involved in that?’

  Jean-Claude shook his head. ‘No. But I have reason to believe Zac Ewart is – and, as you and I both know, he and Mathieu are very close.’

  Vanessa stumbled over some exposed roots of an immense tree that towered above her as she followed their machete-wielding guide along the muddy track, taking them deeper and deeper into the forest.

  All day they had hacked their way into the depths of the steamy, lush forest. Now their destination, a native village, was only an hour away.

  Trudging in single file behind Ralph and the others, Vanessa felt both tired and exhilarated. The clean oxygen-filled air, heavy with moisture, had initially somehow bestowed a feeling of euphoria and excitement on her, but now her clothes were beginning to smell and feel damp from all the humidity.

  Her skin was itching where unknown insects had bitten her. Her head was sweaty from the wide brimmed hat she was wearing to deflect the sun and to stop the legions of creepy crawlies above her in the rain forest’s canopy, from falling into her hair. She longed for the day to end.

  Their trek had taken them between columns of trees so tall their tops disappeared from view, with long liana vines hanging and wrapping themselves around the trunks. Vast spider-webs had spanned the green vegetation, where some leaves were as huge as the parasol Vanessa dreamily imagined sitting under and relaxing.

  At ground level everything appeared to be in a state of flux. Strange smells wafted up from wh
ere plants were growing, decaying, dying, surrounded by lots of bugs, snakes and other things that Vanessa just knew were waiting to take a bite out of her.

  As the day wore on, the sounds of the jungle had become familiar. Sloths shaking the treetops looking for a resting spot, the echoing cries of the howler monkeys as they swung through the trees and the ever-present noise of the cicadas mingling with birdsong became background noises to the group as they hacked their way through the rain forest.

  The village clearing appeared unexpectedly. One minute the guide was leading them along a muddy track beneath the jungle canopy, the next they came to an abrupt standstill as their way was barred by a group of native Indians holding their hunting spears at arm’s length.

  For one heart-stopping moment, Vanessa thought they were about to be attacked, but it was simply the welcoming party come to escort them into the village.

  The primitive palm thatched huts on their stilts stood around the edge of the clearing, where the village animals, including a fat pig and several roosters, were roaming freely scouring the land for scraps.

  Walking to the centre of the encampment with curious villagers eyeing them from a distance, Vanessa noticed a small child standing close to her mother watching the strangers with wide brown eyes.

  Vanessa smiled at her and was rewarded with a shy smile in return before the little girl turned and ran after a baby pig, before settling down in the dust to stroke and play with it. Looking at her, naked and beautifully brown, with her bare feet planted firmly on the earth, the phrase ‘being at one with nature’ came into Vanessa’s mind. This little girl was definitely in harmony with the natural world that she lived in.

  Briefly Vanessa envied her the simplicity of her childhood – and her life to come.

  The chief shaman came forward to welcome them and showed them to the hut reserved for visitors.

  They’d barely had time to sling their hammocks between the beams and change their damp clothes before a young woman appeared inviting them to come and eat the special meal the villagers had prepared in their honour.

  There were bowls of yucca soup, rice, fish, fruit and, to Vanessa’s horror, large white live grubs and what was clearly organ meat from various animals, all laid out in their honour. She looked at Ralph in dismay.

  ‘I don’t want to upset anyone but I can’t eat those things,’ she whispered, pointing to the wriggling white grubs and the meat.

  ‘Stick to the rice and fish,’ Ralph advised quietly. ‘And have some fruit.’

  As Vanessa began to peel a banana a small monkey who had been wandering around scratching the earth, suddenly ran up to her, snatching the banana from her, before jumping on to her lap and settling down to eat it. Vanessa looked at him in amazement. She must remember to tell the twins about this.

  Listening to fragments of the conversation around her as she watched the monkey, Vanessa realized the village was struggling to survive.

  Angela, the mother of the little girl Vanessa had seen earlier, was shaking her head sadly as she spoke to Ralph in fragmented Spanish.

  ‘It is terrible with the forest – so much destruction. People need to find a way of surviving, of helping the jungle to grow back. Much is being done but the bandits, they still spoil things.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘The drugs and the gold smuggling is taking over our culture even here in this tiny village. We have a school now, but the children – what future do they have? The government want our people to report anyone who abuses the forest but we’re not going to risk our lives, are we?’

  Angela looked at Ralph in distress.

  ‘How would my children survive if I ended up with a rifle in my mouth?’

  Early on Sunday morning, pit lane passes hanging around their necks, Nanette and the twins crossed the Boulevard Albert 1st at a designated crossing place between the barriers, and made their way to the area where Jean-Claude was fine-tuning his Lotus before the race.

  Pierre was excited at seeing all the old cars close up, but Olivia was already bored. Mathieu and Florence were busy preparing the apartment for the lunch party and had gently suggested Nanette took the twins out of the way. Olivia had protested saying she’d rather stay in her room, but Mathieu had insisted.

  ‘Papa Jean-Claude’s down there getting ready. Go and wish him good luck. He’d love to see you all,’ and Mathieu had practically pushed them out of the apartment.

  Along the pit lane the cars with their curiously old-fashioned looks were the star attractions. Pierre was fascinated to see a car that had raced in the very first Monaco Grand Prix over sixty years ago on display at the end of the pit lane enclosure.

  And even Olivia was impressed when Jean-Claude told them how well his qualifying laps had gone.

  ‘Can’t believe the old girl went so well. Fourth on the grid. Just have to hope she keeps going now.’ He patted the dark green bonnet of the car gently. ‘Imagine I’m alongside Stirling on the third row,’ he said, looking at Nanette.

  Nanette smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. ‘Good luck,’ she said, leaving Jean-Claude and his mechanic to finish their adjustments to the car.

  Strolling along the pit lane with the twins, Nanette remembered the countless times she’d been involved in preparations for Grand Prix races with Zac all over the world, but there was something different about this pit lane. It took her several minutes to realize exactly what it was.

  There were crowds of people milling around and there was the usual frenzy of mechanics preparing cars for racing but it was all rather subdued and, like the cars, old-fashioned. The razzamatazz atmosphere of a modern Formula 1 grand prix was missing. Next week Monaco would be in the grip of twenty-first-century racing car fever as the modern Formula 1 road-show took over and Monaco turned itself into the most glamorous race-track in the world, but this Sunday morning, it was all about nostalgia.

  Knowing that once the racing started they wouldn’t be able to leave the pit lane, Nanette ushered the twins across the road and they made their way slowly home.

  Back in the apartment, Pierre grabbed Mathieu’s binoculars and took up his position on the balcony where he had a good view of both the starting grid and the pit lane exit. Guests were starting to arrive, at one of whom, a tall lanky teenager, Olivia took one look and gasped.

  ‘Dad didn’t say he was coming,’ she said. Nanette laughed at the expression on her face.

  ‘Who is he?’

  Olivia looked at her in disbelief. ‘You must recognize him. It’s Foxey. He’s the lead singer with a really, really cool band. Les Grenouille’s.’

  ‘Oh,’ Nanette said, watching as Olivia ran to her room to change into her ‘best’ jeans – the ones with the tear in the knee – and to fetch her autograph book.

  ‘Be really cool if he’d sign it for me,’ she said. ‘Do you think he will?’

  ‘Don’t see why not,’ Nanette said.

  Nanette was less than thrilled to see the next person who arrived – Boris. Accompanied by a group of six men and the blonde woman Nanette had seen with him in the restaurant, he walked confidently into the apartment. After a cursory glance in her direction and a polite ‘Bonjour’, he went through to join Mathieu.

  Nanette stood undecided. She didn’t fancy going out on to the balcony and making small talk to Boris and his cronies until other guests arrived. When the doorbell rang, she quickly called out to Florence, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it,’ and opened the door to find Evie and her boss, Luc, standing there.

  Together they went through to the balcony where Mathieu was supervising pre-lunch nibbles and drinks. Accepting a glass and taking an hors d’oeuvre Nanette and Evie edged their way along towards Pierre.

  ‘It’s Papa Jean-Claude’s race next,’ he said. ‘Look here he comes out of the pits,’ and he trained the binoculars down on the pit lane exit.

  ‘Gosh, from up here they look like the Dinky toys my kid brother used to play with,’ Evie said, leaning over to get a better look.

  Several of the ca
rs were already on the grid having driven around the circuit to get to their starting positions and their mechanics were once again thronging around giving them final checks in the last twenty minutes before the formation lap.

  Nanette watched as Jean-Claude took his Lotus up the hill before disappearing from view along the part of the track that went past the Casino.

  By the time he emerged from the tunnel and was negotiating the bends by the swimming pool, most of Mathieu’s guests had arrived and the balcony was buzzing.

  Nanette, looking out across the harbour, saw Zac on Pole Position and breathed a small sigh of relief. He was obviously not planning on joining them for lunch. Since the morning he’d come to the apartment expressing the desire that they should be civil to each other in public, Nanette had been wondering where and when their next encounter would be.

  Evie saw her looking at the yachts.

  ‘Is that Pole Position? I’ve been invited to a party on board tomorrow. Do you know Zac Ewart?’

  Nanette smiled. Evie was exactly the kind of girl Zac liked to surround himself with. She nodded.

  ‘Yes I’ve known Zac for years.’

  She glanced at Evie as she said this. Evie, being new in town, clearly had no idea of her past relationship with Zac.

  Nanette, knowing the way the grapevine worked, knew it wouldn’t be long before someone told Evie all the gory details. She hesitated, perhaps she should get in first with her version – the details she could remember anyway.

  ‘Oh great, you’ll be going to the party then,’ Evie said, and the opportunity was gone.

  ‘Not sure,’ Nanette said evasively.

  A party on board the boat on which she had organized many a party in the past, full of people who had ostracized her after the accident wasn’t a scenario she fancied. Could she really face it?

  ‘It’s about to start,’ Pierre said excitedly. ‘The lights are on.’

  Watching the old cars take off, Nanette hoped Jean-Claude would do well – or at least finish the race and not break down. In the event he came in second, managing to pass Stirling on the third lap which Nanette knew was a real triumph as the Monaco circuit was a difficult one for overtaking. Watching him take the chequered flag, Nanette and the twins cheered loudly before joining the others at lunch.