Page 28 of One Summer in Monte Carlo
The sudden strident noise of police sirens as several police cars streaked their way along the Boulevard Albert 1er frightened Nanette and she looked around quickly.
‘Probably heading for the autoroute,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Hope it’s nothing too serious.’ He gestured to her to go ahead of him as a crew member waited at the head of the gangway to welcome them aboard.
Slipping her shoes off and placing them in the woven wicker basket provided, before stepping on to the teak deck ofPole Position, Nanette’s nerves almost got the better of her and she would have run back down to the embankment, if Jean-Claude hadn’t unexpectedly taken her hand at that moment, making escape impossible. It was as if he sensed her wanting to run as he squeezed her hand in a comforting, reassuring way, letting her know he was there for her.
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 curiously as she sipped her drink. Over three years since she’d stepped foot on the yacht that had been her and Zac’s private bolt hole. In those days the interior had been a mixture of off-white furniture with Zac’s growing collection of original art on the wall spaces between the windows and a cream carpet on the floor. This evening she saw that while the fitted furniture was the same, the carpet had been replaced by wooden parquet flooring, several of the paintings had disappeared and a large Lalique glass panel depicting a F1 racing car had taken their place. Vaguely, Nanette wondered what had happened to the paintings.
‘What do you think of the makeover Zac had done earlier this year?’ Jean-Claude asked.
‘Umm, not sure,’ Nanette replied evasively. ‘I liked it the way it was. Wonder where Zac is?’ The sooner he realised she was on board and they could get over any awkwardness in their greeting and move on, the better.
‘Probably out on deck. Shall we go look?’
When Nanette nodded, Jean-Claude took her by the hand again and they made their way through one of the open doors out 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 joined 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 autoroute 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 certain of finding something.’ Evie said. ‘My friend is telling Zac the news now.’
Nanette glanced 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 and the gangway.
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 together they watched Mathieu jump offPole Positionbefore being swallowed up by the crowds still thronging the harbourside and disappearing from view.
Standing on the deck in silence watching Mathieu running away into the night, Nanette felt Jean-Claude’s tension as she held his hand and hoped against hope that his worry was groundless.
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 gangway 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 tell me where he’s gone?’ 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. Nobody twists his arm.’
‘So, 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 now in the basket at the head of the gangway.
