Follow Your Star, Jennifer Bohnet [best fiction novels to read txt] 📗

by the sitting-room window she glanced out at the harbour and froze as she saw a figure sitting at a table on the stern deck of Pole Position. Even from her viewpoint, nine floors up she had no difficulty in recognizing Zac. Or the man he was now standing up to welcome on board – Boris.

Hoping she was shielded from view by the lemon tree in its pot on the balcony, Nanette watched as the two men were served coffee by a stewardess before Boris handed Zac what looked like a large packet.

Ten minutes later, both men stood up, shook hands and Boris took his leave of Zac, making his way slowly along the gangway back to a large black car waiting for him on the harbour road.

On board Pole Position Nanette could see Zac punching a number into his mobile phone before holding it up to his ear, and moving his head so that it was obvious he was looking directly up at the apartment. Nanette stepped slowly away from the window. Had he seen her after all? Realized she’d been watching him and Boris?

The unexpected shrill buzz of the apartment doorbell made her jump and she hurried to open it.

‘Bonjour, Nanette. Happy May Day.’ Jean-Claude lightly kissed her on both cheeks before handing her a pot of Lilies of the Valley.

‘Thank you, JC,’ Nanette said, surprised. She’d forgotten all about the tradition of giving the highly scented flowers on 1 May as a sign of friendship – and love.

‘You look a little flustered,’ Jean-Claude said, looking at her anxiously. ‘Nothing wrong is there?’

‘Zac is in town. I’ve just been watching him and his friend Boris meeting on Pole Position,’ she explained.

‘Is this Boris still there? I would be interested in seeing what he looks like,’ Jean-Claude said, walking out on to the balcony quickly.

‘No. He left a few minutes ago. But Zac is still on board.’

Joining him out on the balcony, Nanette could see Zac now in the cockpit gesticulating at one of his crew. As they watched, Zac turned and glanced upwards, raising his hand in greeting as he saw Jean-Claude. Rather than acknowledge him, Nanette turned and went back into the sitting-room.

‘I thought we’d have lunch at the Automobile Club,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Or anywhere you like,’ he added quickly, seeing the look on her face.

‘It’s just that Zac’s in town,’ Nanette apologized. ‘I know it’s his favourite place for lunch. And I’m not quite ready to meet him socially yet. Could we go somewhere else please?’

‘Why don’t we walk up to Saint Nicholas Square?’ Jean-Claude said. ‘It’s a bit touristy, but on the plus side I doubt that Zac will venture up that way on a fête day.’

Nanette looked at him gratefully. ‘I’ll just get my bag.’

To Nanette’s relief, and by mutual unspoken agreement, they left the apartment block by the quieter exit on to a back street so she didn’t have to walk past Pole Position.

The weather for the May Day holiday was perfect – blue sky, a gentle breeze and warm sunshine. Joining the throngs of tourists they began making their way up towards the Palace.

Saint Nicholas Square was in the labyrinth of busy narrow streets that clustered around the cathedral in the old town. Choosing an outside table at one of the restaurants, they sat down under a gaily stripped umbrella. Snatched conversations in French, English, Italian and the inevitable Japanese floated in the air around them. An attentive waiter handed them a menu.

‘Vous faites décider … ah, pardon Nanette. I forgot. I will speak English.’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Have you decided what you’d like to eat?’

‘JC, please speak in French,’ Nanette answered. ‘Not using it for three years mine’s a bit rusty, but I do still understand. I need to start speaking it again too.’

She glanced at the menu. ‘I think I’ll have the plat du jour, s’il vous plait.’

Sipping her glass of ice-cold rosé Nanette looked at Jean-Claude.

‘Something else I haven’t used for three years arrived today,’ she said quietly.

Jean-Claude looked at her in puzzlement.

Nanette pictured the envelope in the drawer before saying quietly, ‘My driving licence has been returned. My driving ban is finished.’

‘But that is good, isn’t it?’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Now you can truly put the past behind you and start driving again.’

‘I’m not sure that I have the confidence to get behind the wheel of a car again.’

‘If you are nervous I can come with you for the first few times,’ Jean-Claude offered.

‘I don’t know that it’s that simple, JC.’ Nanette fiddled with her cutlery. ‘What if—?’

Jean-Claude stopped her in mid sentence.

‘Non. No what ifs Nanette. You’ve been punished for the accident. Now you must put it behind you and get on with your life. I forbid you to let it blight the future.’

In spite of herself Nanette smiled at the stern look on Jean-Claude’s face.

‘I know you’re right, but I don’t have a car at the moment anyway, so’ – she shrugged – ‘I shall avoid the issue for at least a few more weeks.’

After an exasperated ‘Tch’ Jean-Claude changed the subject.

‘I hope Mathieu has invited you to the lunch he’s hosting Vintage Grand Prix weekend?’

‘Yes, I’m looking forward to it. Will you be there?’

‘Yes and no. I’ve been persuaded to get my Lotus out of mothballs and give it an outing, so I shall be spending most of my Sunday with the mechanics. Be interesting to drive on a circuit again after so long. Especially this one.’

‘I didn’t know you’d been a racing driver,’ Nanette said.

‘Only very briefly. It was at the time the sport was changing rapidly into big business with the manufacturers taking over. It simply became too expensive without a sponsor; I found myself priced out of the market.’ He shrugged. ‘And if I’m honest I lacked the competitive edge that people like Mansell and Senna had. So, the car has been under wraps for the last few years. I’ve got the next couple of weeks to finish checking it over mechanically and prepare