Page 72 of One Summer in Monte Carlo
‘Oh, Vanessa,’ Nanette said. ‘I’m sorry, the answer is still no. Jean-Claude has plans for us to do some travelling together. I do know someone who needs a job though and who would be perfect. Evie. Her boss got caught up in all this smuggling business and she lost her job recently.’
‘This Boris Takyanov certainly spread his business tentacles widely, didn’t he?’ Vanessa said. ‘Unbelievable that so deep in the jungle, we should cross the same worldwide criminal organisation masterminded by Boris that Mathieu was investigating.’ She shivered, remembering Ralph’s accident. ‘The only time I was truly scared was when the villagers accused us of putting the evil eye on them because of Boris’s son’s failure to honour their deal.’
‘I find the fact that Zac got taken in unbelievable,’ Nanette said. ‘Trying to involve me in Vacances au Soleilto give it respectability was despicable.’ She shook her head. ‘I just took it as the final proof that he didn’t give a hoot about me, but then, this happens,’ and she looked up reflectively at the apartment building where they were now standing. ‘So I realise he did care in his own way.’
The concierge welcomed them politely, pointed out which lift they needed to take for Apartment 210 on the twelfth floor and returned to tending the vast pots of lilies that graced the foyer.
Stepping out of the lift and inserting the key in the apartment door, Nanette shivered.
Vanessa glanced at her and asked, ‘You okay?’
‘I’m fine. Probably a reaction to the last few days. This whole Zac thing still feels unreal.’
‘We don’t have to do this today, do we?’ Vanessa asked. ‘You don’t have to rush into sorting things out.’
‘No, but I do need to make a start,’ Nanette said, before resolutely turning the key. ‘This is surreal,’ she murmured, looking around the sparsely furnished sitting room. It was full of things she recognised from Zac’s old apartment – things they had chosen together. The two white leather settees facing each other across the glass-topped coffee table, the music centre, the Persian rug, the grand piano from Zac’s grandmother. She recognised too, the art work on several walls which had come fromPole Positionwhen the yacht had been refurbished, It all brought back poignant memories of her time with him.
She brushed away a tear before walking across and picking up a silver-framed photo standing on the piano. It was one of Zac standing in the cockpit ofPole Positionlooking relaxed and happy.
‘I’ve never thanked you properly for having the twins for me and coming back to Monaco,’ Vanessa said unexpectedly. ‘I know it was a difficult decision for you to return.’
‘I’m glad I came. Getting my memory back, clearing things up between Zac and me – imagine how I would have felt if Zac had died and we’d never talked about the accident.’ Nanette took one last look at the photo and gently replaced it on the piano before turning to face Vanessa.
‘You did me several favours by going up the Amazon for five months.’ Nanette smiled at her friend as she moved towards the master bedroom door. ‘It’s thanks to you I’ve now got Jean-Claude in my life.’
‘The rainforest was such a great experience. I can’t tell you how much it changed the way I look at things,’ Vanessa said quietly.
Nanette barely heard her friend as she looked at Zac’s bedside table. Two things had caught her attention. Yet another silver-framed photo – and this time Nanette couldn’t stop the tears from coursing down her cheeks as she looked at it. Taken the night they got engaged at a party in the Automobile Club in Monaco, she and Zac were standing with their arms entwined in the traditional manner, toasting each other with champagne, her engagement ring sparkling in the camera flash.
She hesitated before picking up the small white box that stood alongside the photo. Surely not? The large square sapphire surrounded by diamonds glinted in the sunlight as she opened the box. Her engagement ring. The one she’d had couriered back to Zac from Devon when she’d realised he’d abandoned her. She snapped the box shut and replaced it on the bedside table.
‘Do you think Zac’s got any tea? I think we could both do with a cup,’ Vanessa said. ‘Come on, let’s inspect the kitchen.’ Gently, she led Nanette out of the bedroom.
By the time Vanessa had found and made a pot of tea, Nanette had stopped crying.
‘I’m sorry. I thought I was all cried out over Zac Ewart, but apparently not.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Such a waste but life moves on. At least his reputation as a brilliant racing driver will remain intact. He’ll never have to face the criminal charges that Boris and the others will.’ Nanette took a sip of tea.
‘This is a great apartment,’ Vanessa said, looking around. ‘Are you going to keep it and live here?’
‘I’ll probably sell it. Can’t see myself living here somehow. If I keep it, I’ll rent it out. Oh!’ Nanette said, looking at Vanessa. ‘Why don’t you and Ralph make it your base when you move down here?’
45
After Vanessa had gone back to the UK and he’d had his business meeting with Mathieu, Jean-Claude insisted they enjoyed the few remaining days of Nanette’s official holiday doing things together.
On the last day, they drove up into the back country and had lunch in a village square, sitting beneath the shade of an ancient plane tree. As the waiter placed their tomato and mozzarella salad starters in front of them, Jean-Claude glanced across at her.
‘I’m so happy you decided not to rush back to the UK with Vanessa. I love having you around.’
Nanette smiled at him as he picked up her hand and squeezed it.
‘Have you thought about what you are going to do with your legacy yet?’
‘I’ve done nothing but think about it,’ Nanette answered. ‘There is one idea floating around in my brain I want to talk to you about.’
‘Do you still want to give it all away?’
Nanette shook her head. ‘No, that was a silly idea. I’ll keep it, but I do want to do something useful with it if I can.’ She poured herself a glass of water from the carafe the waiter had placed on the table before continuing. ‘I was wondering aboutPole Position. We could have some fun with her, or I could sell her and maybe invest the money. What do you think? Are you a keen sailor? Have to admit I’m veering towards selling her.’
