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

‘I wouldn’t ask you to. I just don’t want you to be hurt again.’

‘I won’t be, I promise.’

Nanette put a hand up and gently stroked Jean-Claude’s face. ‘Can I tell you something? Sitting at Zac’s bedside I thought about you and me and wondered how I’d feel if it were you in that hospital bed.’ Reaching up she kissed him. ‘I couldn’t bear it. I would really be hurting then.’

He hugged her tightly for several seconds before releasing her. ‘Come on, let’s walk.’

Dusk was falling as they returned to the villa. Mathieu met them at the door, his face serious.

‘The hospital rang. Zac suffered a stroke shortly after you left. Nanette, I’m sorry, they did everything possible but they couldn’t save him.’

Nanette lay on the airbed, her fingers dangling in the cool water as she drifted aimlessly around the pool. Jean-Claude had urged her to go for a swim but she simply didn’t have the energy.

She’d felt so positive that night walking on the beach with Jean-Claude, watching the setting sun, believing against all odds that Zac was going to recover now he’d regained consciousness and making plans for his future care.

The numbness that had descended over her as Mathieu told them the sad news, had drained her of all rational thought and energy. Only Jean-Claude’s quiet, loving presence had kept her focused on the things that needed to be done.

Together they had arranged the small immediate funeral service for Zac that would take place tomorrow in the church at the cemetery. They’d also begun to set the plans in motion for a big memorial service to be held in October at the end of the racing season.

And now an unknown Monsieur Mille had phoned wanting an urgent meeting with her that afternoon. Jean-Claude had been strangely reticent about the man, saying simply the name seemed familiar but he wasn’t sure, and, as Monsieur Mille had declined to give details over the telephone, she’d have to wait and see what it was all about.

Reluctantly Nanette guided the airbed towards the pool steps. The mysterious Monsieur Mille would be here soon. She needed to shower and get dressed. Maybe she’d start to shake off this stupor after tomorrow when the saga of her and Zac would finally be laid to rest alongside his poor burned body.

Monsieur Mille, when Jean-Claude introduced them half an hour later, turned out to be a lawyer. Zac’s lawyer.

‘Mademoiselle Weston, I am here to offer my condolences and to tell you that you are the only beneficiary of Monsieur Ewart’s estate.’ He handed Nanette a legal document and an envelope containing a set of keys.

A stunned Nanette looked at him in disbelief as Jean-Claude took charge and began to question him.

‘There is no mistake. Monsieur Ewart lodged his will with me three years ago with the instructions that in the event of his demise, I was to contact Mademoiselle Weston, with the news and offer her my services.’

‘But three years ago.…’ Nanette’s voice trailed off.

‘I believe you had a bad car accident about that time,’ the lawyer said. ‘Monsieur Ewart was concerned for you.’

He stood up and held out his business card. ‘I will leave you to read Monsieur Ewart’s will. If you have any questions this is my number. These things take time, but you will need to come to my office to sign papers – perhaps next month.’

Nanette stayed in the sitting-room while Jean-Claude saw the lawyer out, her thoughts in turmoil. Why hadn’t Zac changed his will? Was it his way of trying to make amends? Or was it just a mistake on his part? Whatever the reason, it was too late now.

Her fingers were shaking as she unfolded the heavy document. There was no mistaking her name in bold letters six or seven lines down the page identifying her as the beneficiary of Zac Ewart’s estate. Silently she handed the paper to Jean-Claude when he returned.

Pole Position, the apartment in Fontvieille – those were the keys the lawyer had thoughtfully put in the envelope – and a bank account were now hers.

‘You’re going to be a wealthy woman,’ Jean-Claude said.

‘I don’t deserve this,’ she said, looking up at Jean-Claude. ‘I certainly don’t want it.’

‘I don’t think you can refuse,’ Jean-Claude said gently. ‘But once you’ve signed all the legal documents you can do what you like with it.’

‘I’ll give it away then.’

John-Claude regarded her thoughtfully.

‘The package you put in the safe – I think we should take a look and see if it’s still there. I don’t want you implicated in Zac’s criminal activities simply because you now own the yacht.’

‘I need some fresh air – shall we go now?’ Nanette asked. ‘Get it over with. I’ll just get my bag.’

Nanette’s mobile phone rang as they were leaving the villa. It was Vanessa.

‘I just wanted you to know that I’m coming down for the funeral tomorrow. Mathieu is meeting me at Nice tonight and I’ve booked a room at the Columbus.’

‘Are the twins coming too?’

‘No. Ralph is taking them down to his parents in the country for a couple of days. I thought they were a bit young – although Pierre in particular is terribly upset about Zac. I think he was looking forward to boasting that the Formula One World Champion was a friend.’

There was a pause before Vanessa said, ‘You coping? We’ll have a long talk tomorrow.’

‘Yes,’ Nanette answered. ‘I’m coping and there’s a lot to talk about when you get here.’

The harbour was busy as Nanette and Jean-Claude made their way to the yacht. As they walked, they saw Mediterranean Wanderer negotiating its way to a quayside berth, scores of cruise passengers lining her decks for their first look at Monaco.

Several police cars were parked along the embankment road effectively blocking a lane of traffic. Aloud blaring of car horns from exasperated drivers forced into gridlock competed with the noisy siren from the liner as it warned smaller craft to get out of its way.

Nanette nudged Jean-Claude. ‘Isn’t that