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the village they are in doesn’t have electricity.’

‘Did she say how things were going?’ Jean-Claude asked.

‘Just that she was seeing some amazing things and as soon as she could she’d write again.’

The cars took off for their formation lap at that moment and Pierre pulled the official ear-protectors Zac had given him over his ears. By the time the warm-up lap was completed and the cars were back on the grid ready for the off, Boris and his guests were crowded on the balcony waiting for the start.

Everyone gazed as one by one the red starting lights went out and then the earth-shattering sound of high-performance cars making for the Saint Dévote bend at high speed before disappearing up the hill towards the Casino, blasted through the apartment. A loud cheer went up as Zac, making a perfect start, kept his lead, and within seconds had disappeared from view, leaving the cars behind him to juggle for better positions as best they could.

Now everyone’s attention switched to one of the large TV screens set up by the harbour. As she watched Zac fly past the Café de Paris on his way towards the Horseshoe Bend for the first time, Nanette hoped that the race would be trouble free. Monaco Grand Prix might be a firm favourite with the drivers because of the challenges the street circuit gave them, but Nanette knew that simple fact made it more dangerous than any other racetrack.

Racing out of the tunnel and coming back down towards the harbour Zac was continuing to pull away from the cars behind him and had already put fifteen seconds between himself and the last car when he roared past the apartment again starting his second lap.

Boris and two of his guests moved back into the sitting-room soon after the start and began talking quietly amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at the race on the small television on the sideboard. Nanette, fetching a bottle of water from the kitchen, strained to hear what they were saying as she walked past but caught only the words ‘money’ and ‘yacht’.

Zac stayed comfortably ahead for the race, his team providing him with two perfect pit stops to keep him in the lead. Nanette, watching him climb the hill past the Hérmitage Hotel on his sixty-ninth lap knew that with just nine laps left, he was finally on target to win the Monaco Grand Prix with a nineteen second lead over the car in second place.

But then on lap seventy-two disaster struck. The driver in fourth position misjudged La Rascasse corner and drove into the wall. The uninjured, but frustrated driver, climbed out of his car, shaking his head sadly at the crowds. Yellow flags were waved and the safety car was soon out on the track and the drivers were forced to slow down. Under racing rules all cars had to keep to their current position – overtaking was not allowed whilst the safety car was out in front.

By the time the track was cleared of the crashed car and its debris, there were only two laps of the race left and all the remaining cars had bunched up behind each other. As the safety car left the track everyone watching held their breath willing Zac to stay out of danger – and out front.

As he negotiated the chicane before the old swimming pool complex for the final time, the second and third cars were just seconds behind him but it was Zac who rounded La Rascasse and roared across the finishing line first to take the chequered flag.

Nanette joined in the spontaneous cheering that erupted along the balcony. Despite all that had happened between them she couldn’t help but be pleased for him.

‘Can I go down and watch the presentation?’ Pierre asked, excitedly.

‘We’ll come with you,’ Jean-Claude answered knowing Nanette wouldn’t let Pierre go alone.

Downstairs, the mechanics and other team members were crowding around and Prince Albert and the rest of his family had appeared, ready to present the trophies.

Nanette, Jean-Claude and Pierre managed to squeeze into a small space alongside the presentation stand. Standing there watching the ceremony as a jubilant Zac received his trophy from Prince Albert and held it aloft, Nanette felt a certain sense of déjà vu washing over her.

How many times had she watched similar ceremonies and then been at Zac’s side as he’d partied through the night? Now, as the champagne was shaken and sprayed everywhere, she joined in with the general noise of the victory celebrations, but her feelings were somehow detached from what was going on around her.

Running across to give the champagne bottle to his mechanics, Zac waved to Pierre and saw Nanette standing alongside him.

Immediately he changed course and came over to them.

‘Congratulations, Zac,’ Jean-Claude said.

‘Thanks.’

Zac turned to Nanette. ‘Dinner tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. No excuses. I need to talk to you urgently.’

And he was gone back to his mechanics, leaving Nanette speechless – and angry with his assumption that of course she would obey his order.

A loud bang outside the apartment block woke Nanette with a jolt early Monday morning. Startled, it took her a second or two to realize it was the workmen starting the long process of dismantling barriers and stands and returning Monaco to its normal state for the next ten months.

Lying in bed for a few moments Nanette thought about Zac and his dinner ‘invitation’. She had talked about it to Jean-Claude last night before he returned to his villa.

‘I still have questions I’d like Zac to answer,’ she’d said. ‘Maybe he’s decided to talk to me.’

‘Perhaps he just wants to take you out to dinner and knew you wouldn’t willingly consider it,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘But in my experience Zac Ewart never does anything without a reason,’ he added quietly.

All day, as she went about her normal routine Nanette found herself thinking about Jean-Claude’s remark. By 8.00 p.m. though, when Zac rang the apartment bell, she’d convinced herself that their shared past was the reason Zac wanted to

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