Page 11 of One Summer in Monte Carlo
‘No thanks. I’ll go for a wander around the garden if that’s all right,’ she said. ‘Then maybe I’ll join Olivia in the pool.’
Strolling around the garden, Nanette found herself thinking about the race Zac had always called his home Grand Prix. Although there were two more races before the Formula 1 circus arrived in town for the most glamorous race on the calendar, Monaco streets were already in the process of being barricaded into a race circuit. During the next few weeks, the streets would be transformed with steel safety barriers and huge tiers of seating would appear around the racetrack.
Nanette knew that day-to-day living would become increasingly difficult as everything became geared to the smooth running of the biggest money-spinning event of the year. She also knew that the chances of her avoiding people from her past were slim when she went out and about during the week leading up to and including Grand Prix weekend. Returning to the terrace, she sank down onto one of the wicker chairs and tried to banish her negative thoughts about being in town for the Grand Prix.
Moments later Jean-Claude appeared on the terrace with cups of coffee for them both. ‘Thanks. How’s the race going?’
‘Usual procession,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Need a few pit stops to start changing the order of cars and liven things up a bit.’ He glanced at her. ‘Nanette, I know it’s none of my business, but are you going to be okay being in town for the Grand Prix next month? You know, better than most people I suspect, how invasive the whole Formula 1 thing is. It takes the Principality over completely. Escaping certain people will be difficult.’
Nanette nodded, knowing that what he was saying was true. Hordes of people descended on the place, not just the drivers and their teams, but also the TV crews, the hospitality caravans, the photographers, journalists and, of course, tens of thousands of fans. She gave Jean-Claude a grateful smile, realising that he was looking out for her. He really was a lovely man. Before she could say anything, Jean-Claude continued.
‘Vanessa tells me you have the nightmares. You also still have no memory of how the accident happen. Perhaps you should not be in town for the Grand Prix. If you want to stay up here, or even go back to the UK for a few days, I can take care of the twins if Mathieu happens to be away.’ Jean-Claude regarded Nanette anxiously as she took a sip of her coffee
‘Thank you,’ Nanette said, ‘but I think I have to stay.’ She was silent for a few seconds before adding quietly. ‘It’s the third anniversary of my accident the week after the Grand Prix. I still have no clear recollection of what exactly happened that evening. Perhaps coming back to the scene of the crime will jerk my memory into action. Like the police doing reconstruction scenes in the hope of finding new witnesses.’ She hoped her words sounded optimistic and didn’t betray the fear she felt inwardly at the prospect.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Nanette,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘It could do more harm than good to put yourself through something like that. All I can say is, if you ever need a… I think the English say a shoulder to cry on? Then I’m here.’
‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully. He really was one of the kindest men and she knew instinctively that if she was ever in trouble, he would be the first to come to her aid.
‘Olivia and I may well take you up on the offer of spending the actual race day up here.’
8
Vanessa trembled as she stood in the circle of Ralph’s arms, longing to whisper, ‘Yes, I do want to go home right now – with you. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us. I want to stay safe for the twins.’ As Ralph’s calm voice assured her that it was extremely unlikely another plane would be shot out of the sky in the near future because ‘lessons will have been learnt,’ she prayed that he was right.
Back in the UK nothing had daunted her enthusiasm at the thought of joining the expedition, not the poisonous bites from insects or snakes, twisted or broken bones from a fall due to the uneven jungle floor, the heat, torrential rain, or fever, Ralph had mentioned. But the reality was very different and they weren’t even in the jungle proper yet. She knew how important this expedition and her presence on it was to Ralph though – could she really let him down at the first hint of danger? No.
She took a deep breath and steeled herself to continue as planned on their adventure. Clutching his hand tightly, she climbed into the small plane.
To her surprise, once they were airborne, she relaxed and began to enjoy the long flight. José flew them over volcanoes, rivers and acres and acres of jungle. Ralph, quickly realising he was extremely knowledgeable about his country, spent most of the journey quizzing him about life in the jungle.
From her vantage point in the small plane high above, the green jungle canopy below looked to Vanessa like nothing more than giant knobbly heads of broccoli that had been allowed to grow and grow.
Eventually, José landed on a dirt runway that appeared to be in the middle of a native village. As the door of the plane opened and she stepped out, the heat and the humidity enveloped Vanessa completely and a sudden wave of nausea threatened to overcome her. Horrified and embarrassed, Vanessa knew if she didn’t find some shade quickly, she was in danger of being publicly sick.
Seeing her discomfort, José immediately summoned one of the native women who had clustered around to take her to the shelter of a small hut and give her a cool drink. Ten minutes later, after watching José take off safely for his return journey, Ralph joined Vanessa in the hut.
‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked anxiously.
Vanessa nodded. ‘I think I’m fine now. It was just the heat.’
‘Ready for the next part?’ Ralph asked. ‘The boat is waiting.’
Taking her hand, he helped her down a short flight of rickety wooden steps to a small jetty, where a large motorised wooden canoe was moored.
Once on board, a canopy almost the length of the boat shielded the passengers from the intense heat and, as the canoe began to chug through the water, Vanessa appreciated the light breeze that fanned her face. As they made their way upriver, the noise of the boat’s engine mingled with the squawking of a large flock of parakeets. With the rainy season well underway, the river was high and much of the surrounding lowland was flooded.
‘Look,’ Ralph said, laughing, as he pointed to a log floating downstream. It took Vanessa a couple of seconds before she too, saw the family of turtles hitching a lift on the water-sodden trunk. Quickly, she held up her new satellite phone and took a picture for the twins, wondering as she did so whether the charge on her phone would last until the solar charger was set up in the next camp.
Gazing out across the wide expanse of water, Vanessa tried to see the way ahead, but the river appeared to snake its way forever through lush jungle, giving no hint of what lay beyond.
The journey took over two hours and by the time they reached the camp where they were due to spend a couple of days acclimatising themselves to their surroundings, Vanessa’s clothes were damp and sticking uncomfortably to her body. The canoe was tied up alongside a small quay and suddenly native Amazonians were all around, helping them to climb out of the boat and then to negotiate a bridged wooden walkway that led to the village.
Built by the villagers using traditional materials and techniques, there were several thatched wooden structures of various sizes, all on stilts, giving the appearance of an authentic and indigenous rainforest village. It was only when she saw the western touches that had been added in the form of private bathrooms with sun-heated showers to the guest cabins that Vanessa realised the place was purpose-built for tourists. So civilised.
Exhausted, Vanessa climbed into the hut allocated to her and Ralph, determined to at least shower and change her clothes before joining the others for a meal.
Served in the communal dining-room, they met the other guests, who were amazed to learn of Ralph’s plans to take his new wife on a trek through the unchartered, inhospitable jungle.
