Page 67 of One Summer in Monte Carlo
* * *
Nanette clutched Jean-Claude’s hand tightly as they made their way into the Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco. They found Zac in a small private room, wired up to a large piece of apparatus that was emitting a series of steady bleeps. Nanette swallowed hard as she looked at the heavily bandaged figure in the bed, unable to see any recognisable features and thinking it could be anyone.
Quietly, Nanette approached the bed.
‘Zac?’ she said softly.
No response.
Nanette turned questioningly to the nurse making notes of a reading off the machine.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Monsieur Ewart slipped into a coma an hour ago.’
Nanette glanced across at Jean-Claude.
‘Why don’t you sit down here?’ he said, pulling a chair towards the side of the bed. ‘I’ll go and find us some coffee.’
Sitting there, gazing at Zac’s motionless body, Nanette felt the tears welling up. Through the years they had been together, she had become hardened every time Zac climbed in a racing car, to expect the worst. She’d always known it was a dangerous sport where fatal accidents occurred despite all the modern safety measures and regulations. She’d learned to live with that fear, keeping her worries to herself and never mentioning them to Zac. He was doing a job he loved and living his life the way he wanted to and she’d reasoned it wasn’t up to her to stop him.
To see him now, lying here in a hospital bed because he’d helped someone else was a cruel irony. Nanette bit her lip, determined not to cry at the unfairness of it all.
Tentatively, with her fingertips, she gently touched his bandaged hand, hoping against hope that he would open his eyes. However much he had hurt her, however much he had reviled her, she had once loved this man.
‘I’m here, Zac,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t die.’
Jean-Claude returned with coffee and a sandwich for her. Moving away from the bed, Nanette gratefully accepted the plastic cup of steaming coffee but shook her head at the sandwich he offered.
‘Thank you, but I couldn’t eat anything.’
A sudden discordant beep from the machine at Zac’s side brought another nurse hurrying into the room, but seconds later the machine had settled back into its steady bleep, bleep.
The nurse shook her head in response to Nanette’s worried look but didn’t say anything as she left the room. Nanette gave a deep sigh as she moved back towards the bed, willing herself to think positive thoughts, and praying that Zac would be all right.
* * *
It was late evening before Jean-Claude persuaded Nanette it was time to go home.
‘You need to get some sleep,ma chérie. To eat something. If there’s a change in Zac’s condition overnight, the hospital will ring, and we’ll come straight back, I promise,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘There is nothing you can do here.’
Glancing back as they left the room, Nanette sent a silent prayer winging in Zac’s direction.Please, please wake up tomorrow. I want you to know how brave we all think you were.
The lights were on in the villa as they drove up and Mathieu’s car was parked in the driveway. Mathieu himself opened the front door to them.
‘How’s Zac?’
‘He’s been in a coma since this morning,’ Jean-Claude replied quietly. ‘What are you doing here? Do you have some news? A problem?’
Mathieu shook his head. ‘No problem. I wanted you to know that Boris was finally allowed to post bail today and he’s out on remand. He’s had to surrender his passport, of course, and must report to the police every day.’ He looked at his father. ‘As far as he’s concerned, I’m still helping him, so the pretence goes on for at least a few more days. I’m hoping that he’s finally going to give me the name of his contact in Brazil who organises the diamond smuggling. I can hand the completed file over to the police then.’
‘Does Boris know about Zac?’ Jean-Claude asked.
‘Yes. He’s asked me to let him know the moment there is any change. He says he and Zac still have some unfinished business.’
‘The stuff I put in the safe!’ Nanette gasped. ‘Do you think it’s still there?’
Mathieu shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe Zac moved it on before he left for the French Grand Prix. The unfinished business could be something to do with setting up Vacances au Soleil.’
Patsy phoned that evening. ‘I’ve just heard about Zac on the BBC. Is it really as serious as they say?’
