It was mid-afternoon before a happy Jean-Claude joined them. ‘Any food left? I’m starving,’ he said.
Nanette, helping Florence in the kitchen, quickly made up a plate of food for him and then followed him into the sitting-room where he was receiving congratulations from everyone.
As Jean-Claude tucked into his late lunch, Mathieu turned to Nanette.
‘Are you still planning on spending Grand Prix Sunday up at the villa? Or now that you and Zac have kissed and made up, are you going to watch from the pit lane?’
‘Mathieu, I don’t know what Zac has told you, but we certainly haven’t kissed and made up – I’ve still got a lot of questions I’d like him to answer,’ Nanette said sharply. ‘Does it matter where I am next Sunday then?’
‘I’ve just agreed that Boris can use the apartment next weekend,’ Mathieu said. ‘Apparently the apartment he was hoping to use isn’t available. I’ve told him Pierre and I will be here and possibly you and Olivia, which isn’t a problem for him.’
‘Pierre definitely wants to watch the race and Olivia would prefer not to,’ Nanette said. ‘So, I’ll take her up to the villa for the day and leave Pierre with you, if that’s OK with you JC?’
‘Fine by me,’ Jean-Claude assured her. He glanced at Mathieu ‘Are you going to Zac’s party tomorrow night?’
‘Of course, and I’m hoping Nanette is coming as my partner,’ Mathieu answered looking at her.
‘Thanks, Mathieu, but I’ve decided not to go,’ Nanette said.
Mathieu looked disappointed but merely said, ‘That’s a shame, but if you change your mind I’ll be leaving here about nine thirty. You know Zac’s parties never take off until late.’
The night of Zac’s party on board his yacht, Monaco Old Port was a mass of twinkling lights from the yachts and the restaurants that lined the harbour. Grand Prix fever was definitely in the air as Monaco slipped into play mode for the biggest week of the year. After the laid back atmosphere of the weekend, it was clear the big boys were now in town ready to party.
Music from several parties already in full swing on various boats floated up on the sultry air. Couples strolled nonchalantly past the luxury yachts, stopping occasionally to gaze inboard in the hope of seeing a famous face or two amongst all the glamorous people.
Standing on the balcony surveying the scene below her, Nanette took in the atmosphere. Whereas it had once been commonplace in her life she was now so detached from the social scene, that watching it held something of a surreal quality for her.
‘I’m off. Sure you won’t change your mind?’ Mathieu asked, appearing unexpectedly at her side.
Nanette shook her head.
‘Enjoy yourself. You look very smart, by the way, in your tuxedo.’
‘Thanks.’ Mathieu hesitated for a second, as though about to say something else, changed his mind and left.
Nanette heard him open the door and was surprised to hear Jean-Claude’s voice saying hello.
‘What are you doing here, Papa?’ Mathieu asked. ‘Aren’t you coming to Zac’s party either?’
‘Thought Nanette might like some company tonight,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Enjoy the party,’ and he closed the door behind Mathieu.
Joining Nanette on the balcony, Jean-Claude smiled at her.
‘Great atmosphere down there.’
Nanette nodded. ‘Yes. Can I get you a drink or anything?’
‘Maybe in a minute, but first I would like to talk to you.’
Jean-Claude glanced at her before continuing quietly, ‘I think you should make an appearance at Zac’s party tonight. If only for five minutes.’
‘Oh, JC,’ Nanette sighed.
‘Seeing Zac recently was difficult and upset you I know,’ Jean-Claude said, ‘but going tonight would be another step to getting the past behind you. Zac has expressed a desire to be friends, and his guests are unlikely to create a scene or be rude to you in front of him.’
There was silence as Nanette gazed out unseeingly over the harbour. Knowing that Jean-Claude was right didn’t help and she shrugged helplessly as she turned to face him.
‘Why don’t you go and put on a party dress and we’ll go together?’ Jean-Claude said gently. ‘We don’t have to stay long and I promise not to leave your side.’
As Nanette still hesitated, he added, ‘It will be fine. Go and change. I’ll have a word with Florence to keep an ear out for the twins, but I’m sure they’ll be fast asleep by now anyway.’
In her room, Nanette stood uncertainly in front of her wardrobe wondering which dress to wear. She rejected the one she’d worn to accompany Jean-Claude to the Café de Paris as being too dressy and chose instead a sleeveless white one with a lace bolero jacket over the shoulders.
‘Do I look OK?’ she asked Jean-Claude anxiously as she rejoined him in the sitting-room.
‘Nanette, you always look lovely to me whatever you’re wearing,’ Jean-Claude said quietly.
Struck by the sincere intensity in his voice, Nanette looked at him in surprise before smiling at him shyly and leading the way out of the apartment.
Together they walked past yacht after yacht, each one positively humming with revellers. Everywhere there was noise, laughter, music and glamorous women.
The sudden strident noise of police sirens as several police cars streaked their way along the Boulevard Hercules 1st frightened Nanette and she looked around quickly.
‘Probably heading for the auto-route,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Hope it’s nothing too serious.’
Slipping her shoes off at the end of the gangplank and stepping on to the teak deck of Pole Position, Nanette had a sudden attack of nerves and would have run back down to the embankment, if Jean-Claude hadn’t unexpectedly taken her hand at that moment, making escape impossible.
The main cabin of the boat was bursting with people and, as they squeezed their way through the throng, Nanette saw several people she knew. She returned a quiet ‘hello’ to the ones who acknowledged her and did her best not to mind the ones who deliberately turned their backs.
Jean-Claude took two glasses of champagne from the steward at the small bar and handed her one.
Nanette looked around her curiously as she sipped her drink.
‘What do you think of the makeover Zac had done earlier this year?’ Jean-Claude asked.
‘Umm not sure,’ Nanette replied evasively. ‘Bit too ostentatious for my taste. Wonder where Zac is?’
‘Probably out on deck. Shall we go and look?’ When Nanette nodded, Jean-Claude took her by the hand again and they made their way through one of the open doors on to the side deck.
Outside they could see Zac and Mathieu up in the bow talking to Boris. By mutual, unspoken consent, Nanette and Jean-Claude stayed where they were. Neither of them wanted to have to make small talk with Boris.
As they stood sipping their drinks and watching the other party guests, Nanette slowly relaxed. Just as they were about to return to the main cabin, Evie came up to speak to them.
‘Hi. I thought it was you. Isn’t it a great party? I’ve been talking to one of the racing drivers, but now he’s looking for Zac. He’s got a message for him from his technical support team. Apparently the police have stopped the Formula 1 car transporters up on the auto-route for a random search.’
‘Nothing unusual in that,’ Nanette said. ‘It happens quite a lot. Never found anything yet.’
‘Oh, but this time they reckon they’ve had a tip-off and they’re searching them all from top to bottom. They seem pretty certain of finding something.’ Evie said. ‘Look my friend is telling Zac the news now.’
Nanette looked across in time to catch the concerned look Zac exchanged with Boris and Mathieu. Mathieu moved away from the others and began to push his way towards the stern.
Nanette felt a sudden knot of apprehension tighten in her stomach and she moved closer to Jean-Claude. Gently she felt for his hand and held it tightly as they watched Mathieu run down the gangplank before being swa
llowed up by the crowds still thronging the harbour side, and disappearing from view.
CHAPTER FIVE
Standing on the deck in silence watching Mathieu running away into the night, Nanette felt Jean-Claude’s tension as he held her hand.
Nanette glanced around. The party seemed to have come to a premature end with the news of the police raid on the Formula 1 transporters. The deck was still vibrating from the disco music playing in the main cabin but people were leaving, including Boris and his entourage.
‘Shall we go?’ Nanette asked Jean-Claude quietly.
He nodded in answer and they turned to make their way back to the gangplank.
Nanette, hoping that they would be able to leave unnoticed, was disconcerted to see Zac standing in the stern saying goodnight to people.
‘Nanette, Jean-Claude, I’m sorry you’re leaving. Can’t you both stay longer? I haven’t even had a chance to dance with you yet, Nanette. Another glass of champagne perhaps?’
Nanette glanced at him sharply. The last thing she wanted was to dance with Zac.
‘Non,’ Jean-Claude said brusquely. ‘I need to find Mathieu. Perhaps you can tell me where he’s gone?’ And Jean-Claude glared at Zac.
‘How would I know?’ Zac said.
‘Because I believe you’ve involved my son in one of your suspect business enterprises,’ Jean-Claude said angrily.
Zac looked at him steadily. ‘Mathieu is a businessman – he makes his own decisions as to the deals he gets involved in. No-one twists his arm.’
‘So, is he is mixed up with you and the Russian in something then?’ Jean-Claude demanded.
Zac sighed.
‘Jean-Claude, if Mathieu has chosen not to confide in you about his business, I can’t help you. Now, are you sure I can’t persuade you to stay?’ and he looked at Nanette hopefully.
She shook her head and moved away to retrieve her high-heeled sandals from the jumble of footwear in the basket placed at the head of the gangplank.
Slipping them on, she saw Jean-Claude move closer to Zac and place a hand on his shoulder before leaning towards him and saying something that was clearly intended for his ears alone.
Zac’s face darkened and he vehemently shrugged Jean-Claude’s hand off his shoulder before turning away and making for the bar in the main cabin.
Both Nanette and Jean-Claude were silent as they made their way along the embankment to the apartment, each lost in their own thoughts. Jean-Claude took her arm as they prepared to cross the road.
‘Let’s have a coffee before I see you home,’ he said.
The pavement café at the bottom of Rue Princess Caroline was noisy with late night revellers as Nanette and Jean-Claude sat at a small table and ordered their café noisettes.
‘Try not to worry too much about Mathieu,’ Nanette said gently. ‘Didn’t he tell you that things would be clearer to everyone in a couple of months?’
Jean-Claude nodded.
‘Well then, try and trust him for a bit longer. Difficult I know.’
As Nanette looked at him sympathetically, he reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘I know you’re right.’ He shook his head as he looked at her. ‘I just wish I didn’t have this fear in the pit of my stomach.’
Mathieu wasn’t home when Nanette took the twins to school the next morning.
Strolling back Nanette wondered where Mathieu was. When her mobile rang she answered it quickly, half expecting it to be him, but it was Jean-Claude.
‘Have you seen Mathieu?’
‘No. And according to Florence his bed hadn’t been slept in,’ Nanette said. ‘Have you heard anything more about the raid?’
‘Apparently the police did find something, but nobody knows what exactly – although rumour has it as a case full of money.’
‘Did they arrest anyone?’
‘A couple of the truck drivers have been spoken to but the motor-homes and transporters were all allowed to park up without any problems. The Formula 1 circus keeps to a very tight schedule as you know, and nothing must interfere with race week. The police are still up on site searching some of them.’
There was a short pause before Jean-Claude continued, ‘Will you let me know when Mathieu returns?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Replacing the phone in her bag, Nanette wandered slowly along a side street filled with various stalls selling Formula 1 racing paraphernalia and fast food.
Even at this early hour there were fans strolling around, mixing with the locals trying to go about their normal lives despite the inconvenience of barriers and streets filled with seating stands. Tomorrow, a practice day, the road around town and along the harbour would be closed to traffic as the drivers began to get to grips with driving around the narrow winding street circuit at over a hundred miles an hour.
Although it was several years since Nanette had been in Monaco for the Grand Prix, it was still all so familiar. Walking past the souvenir stands and the touts already up and about trying to sell tickets for lunch on practice day at restaurants with views of the circuit, she even recognized one or two people and smiled briefly in their direction.
Ferrari red was the dominant colour of the bunting hanging from balconies and the smell of crêpes cooking on a mobile catering stall on the corner competing with the usual breakfast smell of fresh croissants from the boulangerie, was hard to resist.
Nanette pushed open the glass door of the foyer to the apartment building and pressed the lift button. The two concierges behind the reception desk stopped in mid conversation as she entered, but not before Nanette heard the words ‘Monsieur Mathieu’.
As she walked into the sitting-room, Florence appeared and pointed to Mathieu’s bedroom. ‘Mathieu has returned. He is sleeping and asked not to be disturbed,’ she said quietly.
Quickly, Nanette rang Jean-Claude to tell him the news.
‘I’ll be there in five minutes,’ he said.
It was lunchtime before Mathieu appeared in the sitting-room and both Jean-Claude and Nanette stared at him.
Jean-Claude immediately started to fire questions at him about the raid.
‘So, they found a suitcase of money? It’s not a crime to keep your money in cash,’ Mathieu said, going to the fridge and pouring a glass of milk.
‘Depends on where the money came from – and where it’s going,’ Jean-Claude replied.
‘One of the mechanics apparently had a lucky bet on the Spanish Grand Prix. He simply hadn’t had time to bank his winnings.’
‘OK,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘We’ll accept that story. Now, tell us why you ran from Zac’s party when you heard about the police raid.’
His face was impassive as he watched Mathieu, waiting for his reply.
‘Coincidence. I was about to leave anyway. I’d arranged to meet someone at the Automobile Club and I was late.’
Mathieu simply shrugged as Jean-Claude stared disbelievingly at him. ‘Interrogation finished? I need a shower and then I promised Pierre I’d meet him from school, take him down to the pits and Zac would introduce him to a couple of the drivers.’
‘Non. It is not finished,’ Jean-Claude shouted at his son. ‘Not until you tell me the truth about what is going on.’
Mathieu shook his head as he looked at his father. ‘I can’t tell you anything. But if it’s the family reputation you’re worried about, don’t.’
‘It’s you, I’m worried about, not the family name,’ Jean-Claude said angrily. ‘Scandals can be lived through, but the repercussions are never nice.’
‘Oh believe me,’ Mathieu said grimly, ‘the repercussions in this case will hit a lot of people in Monaco.’ And with that cryptic remark, he disappeared back into his room to get ready to go out.
Jean-Claude looked at Nanette, worry lines etched on his face.
‘At least he’s finally admitted to being involved in something,’ he sighed. ‘Did you believe him – about the money and the Automobile Club?’
‘He could have had an appoint
ment I suppose but.…’ Nanette shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ve got an appointment of my own tomorrow,’ Jean-Claude said quietly, glancing at Mathieu’s closed bedroom door. ‘I’m meeting a private detective to have Mathieu followed for a couple of weeks. I need to know what is going on.’
‘Oh JC – be careful. If Mathieu discovers what you are up to he’ll be furious.’
‘I’ll have to risk it. I’m not convinced he’s not in real trouble. I just want some reassurance that he’s not getting out of his depth with the wrong crowd. I also want to be prepared in case of.…’ Jean-Claude left the sentence unfinished, as he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in despair.
Life in the jungle settled into a pattern for Vanessa as she and Ralph became absorbed into the routine of village life. Ralph, busy helping and recording the building of a small dam on a river near the village, disappeared early every morning with the men, leaving Vanessa to spend her days with Angela and the other women.
Evenings were spent in the large communal hut where, as honoured guests, they were fêted with the best the villagers could provide and entertained with traditional songs and music.
In their hammocks at night in the small hut allocated to them, Ralph told Vanessa about his worries for the village.
‘They seem to think this dam we’re building to help with the gold panning is going to be their path to untold riches. And now some sleaze from Rio has appeared on the scene telling them his boss will help to fund enlarging the mine and sell the gold on for them – all for a big fat rake off, of course.’ He shook his head. ‘They know the mercury he’s going to provide for separating the gold is poisonous and so bad for the forest, but they hear of other villages prospering and they want to do the same. The fact that they’ll probably end up polluting their water supply, poisoning the fish and eroding the forest even more doesn’t seem to be an issue with them.’
Follow Your Star Page 7
