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

‘He refuses to talk to me about it at all,’ Jean-Claude said, shaking his head. ‘Just tells me not to worry. Everything has been sorted out. I just wish I knew what was going on. Friends tell me he’s mixing with some bad company.’

Nanette was silent, not knowing what to say.

The last time Mathieu had been home, he’d been in a very upbeat mood saying that life and business was good, but, like Jean-Claude, she was concerned about who he was doing business with. And what sort of business was he dealing in anyway?

‘I’m a go between,’ he said, when she’d casually asked him about his business before he left on this latest trip. ‘A broker if you like. I find what people need, who’s got it and put them together. I keep most of the info in my head so very little paperwork.’

And conveniently untraceable, Nanette couldn’t help thinking.

Looking at Jean-Claude, Nanette asked, ‘Do you know a man called Boris?’

‘Only by reputation. I’ve never met him,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Why?’

Nanette hesitated before answering.

‘I think he was the business acquaintance who paid Mathieu’s bail. He has some sort of connection with Zac, too.’

Before Jean-Claude could respond, his housekeeper appeared to say that lunch was ready.

‘Five minutes, Anneke. We need to round up the twins,’ Jean-Claude said.

The games room where Pierre and Olivia were playing a noisy game of table tennis was next to Jean-Claude’s office. Nanette knew he ran a hugely successful corporate hospitality business, but she was amazed to see piles of papers and folders littering the desk and spilling on to the floor as she walked past. He obviously didn’t follow his son’s business philosophy of keeping paperwork to a minimum.

Jean-Claude saw her looking and said, ‘My secretary left a few months ago and I haven’t had a chance to find a replacement. Wouldn’t have time to give me hand sorting things out, would you?’

‘Of course,’ Nanette said. ‘I’d like to. Florence takes care of everything at the apartment and politely refuses all my offers of help. I’ll come up tomorrow after I’ve taken the twins to school and make a start.’

‘I also have another favour to ask,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘I have to go to a business cocktail party at the Hotel de Paris in the week and I need a partner. It’s just a couple of hours. We could go for dinner somewhere afterwards if you like.’

Nanette hesitated, not sure she wanted to get involved in the Monte Carlo social scene again. But it was only a cocktail party, not the Red Cross Ball, one of the major social events of the season’s calendar. And with over a month to go to the Monaco GP it was extremely unlikely that there would be anyone from the motor-racing world at the party.

She smiled at Jean-Claude. ‘I’d love to come with you.’

‘Très bien. Now let’s have lunch.’

Nanette had forgotten it was the first European Grand Prix of the season that afternoon until Pierre mentioned it as they were eating dessert.

‘Papa Jean-Claude, can I watch the San Marino Grand Prix please? Zac is on pole position.’

Olivia gave an exaggerated groan.

‘Sure you can, and I’ll keep you company for a while,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘But if you want to watch the introduction and driver interviews you’d better hurry up and finish your crème bruleé. The programme starts in five minutes,’ he added, looking at his watch.

‘Can I go swimming?’ Olivia said. ‘I don’t want to watch the stupid race.’

‘You can’t go swimming straight after lunch. You’ll have to wait for a bit,’ Nanette said.

‘That’s OK. I’ll read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe until then.’

‘How about you, Nanette? Are you going to watch the race with us?’ Jean-Claude asked.

Nanette shook her head. It was years since she’d watched a Grand Prix, her interest in Formula 1 having hit an all time low when Zac had walked out on her. Silly really, when it was what had brought them together in the first place.

‘No thanks. I’ll go for a wander around the garden if that’s all right,’ she said. ‘And then maybe I’ll join Olivia in the pool.’

Strolling around the garden, Nanette found herself thinking about the race Zac had always called his home Grand Prix.

Although there were two more races before the Formula 1 circus arrived in town for the most glamorous race on the calendar, Monaco streets were already in the process of being barricaded into a race circuit. During the next few weeks the streets would be transformed with steel safety barriers and huge tiers of seating would appear around the racetrack.

Nanette knew that day-to-day living would become increasingly difficult as everything became geared to the smooth running of the biggest moneyspinner of the year. She also knew that the chances of her avoiding people from her past were slim.

She turned as Jean-Claude appeared on the terrace with cups of coffee for them both.

‘Thanks. How’s the race going?’

‘Usual procession,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Need a few pit stops to start changing the order of cars and liven things up a bit.’ He glanced at her. ‘Nanette, I know it’s none of my business, but are you going to cope with being in town for the Grand Prix? You know, better than most people I suspect, how invasive the whole Formula 1 thing is. The way it takes over completely. There’ll be no escaping certain’ – he paused – ‘people.’

Nanette sipped her coffee as he continued, ‘Vanessa tells me you have the nightmares. You also have no memory of what happened to you before the accident. Perhaps you should not be in town for the Grand Prix. If you want to stay up here with Olivia – or even go back to the UK for a few days – I can take care of Pierre if Mathieu happens to be away.’ Jean-Claude regarded Nanette anxiously.

‘Thank you,’ Nanette said, ‘but I think I have to stay.’ She was silent for a few seconds before adding quietly, ‘It’s the third