Page 19 of One Summer in Monte Carlo
‘You will have to meet him face to face one day, Nanette. What will you do then?’ Jean-Claude asked gently.
Nanette shook her head before looking at him and saying slowly, ‘I honestly have no idea, JC.’
‘Perhaps it would be better for you to make the arrangement to meet him first,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘That way it will be easier, I think, for you to cope.’
Nanette bit her lip as she looked at him. Maybe Jean-Claude was right, but the mere thought of having to contact Zac to arrange a meeting made her feel ill.
13
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 with its dense undergrowth. After that one night in the eco-camp they’d left the relative comforts it offered behind and set off for the remote village in the jungle that was to be the focal point of Ralph’s documentary.
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 feasted on 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 rainforest’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 down and wrapping themselves around the trunks. Vast spiderwebs 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 where plants were growing, decaying, dying, surrounded by 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 rainforest.
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 Amazonians 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 ground 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 the little girl rewarded her with a shy smile in return as she turned to run after a piglet, before settling down in the dust to stroke and play with it. A memory came to Vanessa of Olivia at a similar age on a visit to a small animals farm, where she’d fallen in love with a baby goat and begged and begged for one. Looking at the child now in front of 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. A sudden longing to throw her arms around Pierre and Olivia and hold them tight engulfed her and she had to take several deep breaths to steady herself. Hugging her children close again wouldn’t happen for nearly five months. Hopefully, once they were settled in this village, the solar charger for the satellite phone would work and she’d be able to phone and at least hear their voices.
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 before them. 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. ‘Have some fruit.’
As Vanessa began to peel a banana, a small monkey, who had been wandering around scratching the earth, suddenly ran up, snatching the banana from her, before jumping on to her lap and settling down to eat it. The little girl she’d seen earlier giggled as Vanessa looked at the monkey 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 realised the village was struggling to survive. Angela, the mother of the little girl, 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 will my daughter, Maya, survive if I end up with a rifle barrel in my mouth?’
Vanessa almost choked on the exclamation of horror that she tried desperately to stop escaping. Suddenly she was glad her own children were thousands of miles away. How could any mother live with the knowledge that not only was her own life in danger but that of her children as well?
14
Half a world away, Monaco continued to gear itself up for the busiest, noisiest and most extravagant event of its year. The needs of the vintage Grand Prix held the weekend before the main event complicated things, as everything had to be ready a week early, which added a manic frenzy to the normal annual busy preparations.
Walking to school every day, Nanette and the twins got used to dodging around obstacles on the pavement, lorries parked unloading yet more essential street furniture and the inevitable crowds of tourists being disembarked into the Principality for the day from the cruise ships moored in the harbour.
Every street had an army of workmen busy hammering and fixing things into place. Terraces of stands had taken over the hillside and the harbour, large television screens had appeared in strategic places and the barriers were in place around the length of the circuit. Fresh white paint detailed the starting grid on the road below Nanette’s balcony.
The main players in the Formula 1 circus, the teams and their large motorhomes, had yet to arrive, but the supporting sideshow of trucks, traders and hangers-on were already making their presence felt. The harbour was jam-packed with luxury yachts whose owners were all determined to be a part of the glamorous scene.
