Follow Your Star (20 page)

The newspaper was full of Zac’s performance in the French Grand Prix the previous day. He’d driven a faultless race and won convincingly, according to the reporter. His nearest rival for the championship had only managed ninth place thus increasing Zac’s lead substantially.

Nanette stared dispassionately at the photograph of Zac standing jubilantly on the podium, before turning to the women’s pages. Zac Ewart was no longer a part of her life. She wouldn’t waste her time reading about him.

Three hours later she stretched her legs as the captain’s voice crackled through the intercom of the 737.

‘Welcome to the French Riviera. The temperature at Nice and along the Côte d’Azure is 33 degrees and the forecast is good for the next few days.

Collecting her suitcase from the carousel, Nanette looked through the glass windows towards the Arrivals Hall. As he’d promised, Jean-Claude was there waiting for her. She smiled happily and waved. Exiting the door from the final Customs Checkpoint she walked towards him looking forward to his welcoming kiss.

Surrendering herself to his arms, oblivious to the milling
crowds, she sensed a tension in his body.

‘Is something wrong? Has something happened to Mathieu?’

‘
Non
, it’s not Mathieu. Let’s have a coffee before we drive home,’ Jean-Claude said, taking her suitcase and leading her to the escalator to go to the fourth floor. Seated at a window table of La Badiane lounge with its view out over the runway, Jean-Claude ordered two coffees.

Taking both of Nanette’s hands in his he said grimly, ‘Zac drove home from the French Grand Prix via his friends the Oliviers. They have a farm up in the hills – do you remember them?’

Nanette nodded. ‘We used to visit them a lot.’

‘He left early this morning and got involved in an incident on one of the isolated mountain roads.’

‘What sort of incident?’

‘A car had overturned on a hairpin bend. A mother and baby were trapped inside. When Zac came on the scene the only thing stopping it from tumbling down the gorge was a tree. Zac managed to pull the woman out before going back for the child.’

Jean-Claude was silent for a moment. ‘As he was struggling to undo the baby seat, the car caught fire.’

‘Did he get the baby out?’

‘Yes, wrapped in a blanket. But Zac himself suffered
third-degree
burns. The doctors are very non-committal about his chances.’

Nanette turned and stared unseeingly as a plane landed and taxied down the runway, her thoughts in such turmoil she barely registered Jean-Claude’s next words.

‘The thing is,
ma chérie
, I know things are over between the
two of you but in his delirious state he’s been crying out for you. Can you bear the thought of holding a vigil at his bedside?’

Nanette clutched Jean-Claude’s hand tightly as they made their way into the Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco.

They found Zac in a small private room, wired up to a large piece of apparatus that was emitting a series of steady bleeps. Nanette swallowed hard as she looked at the heavily bandaged figure in the bed, unable to see any recognizable features and thinking it could be anyone.

Quietly, Nanette approached the bed.

‘Zac?’ she said softly. No response. Nanette turned questioningly to the nurse making notes of a reading off the machine.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Monsieur Ewart slipped into a coma an hour ago.’

Nanette glanced across at Jean-Claude.

‘Why don’t you sit down here?’ he said, pulling a chair towards the side of the bed. ‘I’ll go and find us some coffee.’

Sitting there, gazing at Zac’s motionless body, Nanette felt the tears welling up.

Through the years they had been together she had become hardened every time Zac climbed in a racing car, to expect the worst. She’d always known it was a dangerous sport where
fatal accidents occurred despite all the modern safety measures and regulations. She’d learned to live with that fear, keeping her worries to herself and never mentioning them to Zac. He was doing a job he loved and living his life the way he wanted to and she’d reasoned it wasn’t up to her to stop him.

To see him now, lying here in a hospital bed because he’d helped someone, was a cruel irony. Nanette bit her lip, determined not to cry at the unfairness of it all.

Tentatively, with her fingertips, she gently touched his bandaged hand, hoping against hope that he would open his eyes. However much he had hurt her, however much he had reviled her, she had once loved this man.

‘I’m here, Zac,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t die.’

Jean-Claude returned with coffee and a sandwich for her. Moving away from the bed she gratefully accepted the plastic cup of steaming coffee, but shook her head at the sandwich he offered.

‘Thank you, but I couldn’t eat anything.’

A sudden discordant beep from the machine at Zac’s side brought another nurse hurrying into the room, but seconds later the machine had settled back into its’ steady bleep, bleep. The nurse shook her head in response to Nanette’s worried look.

It was late evening before Jean-Claude persuaded Nanette it was time to go home.

‘You need to get some sleep,
ma chérie
. And to eat something. If there’s a change in Zac’s condition overnight, the hospital will ring, and we’ll come straight back, I promise,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘There is nothing you can do here.’

Glancing back as they left the room, Nanette sent a silent prayer winging in Zac’s direction. ‘Please, please wake up tomorrow. I want you to know how brave we all think you were.’

The lights were on in the villa as they drove up and Mathieu’s car was parked in the driveway. Mathieu himself opened the front door to them.

‘How’s Zac?’

‘He’s been in a coma since this morning,’ Jean-Claude replied quietly. ‘What are you doing here? Do you have some news? A problem?’

Mathieu shook his head. ‘No problem. But I wanted you to know that Boris was finally allowed to post bail today and he’s out on remand. He’s had to surrender his passport, of course, and must report to the police every day.’

He looked at his father. ‘As far as he’s concerned I’m still helping him so the pretence goes on for at least a few more days. I’m hoping that he’s finally going to give me the name of his contact in Brazil who organizes the diamond smuggling. I can hand the completed file over to the police then.’

‘Does Boris know about Zac?’ Jean-Claude asked.

‘Yes. He’s asked me to let him know as soon as there is any change. He says he and Zac still have some unfinished business.’

‘The stuff I put in the safe!’ Nanette gasped. ‘Do you think it’s still there?’

Mathieu shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe Zac moved it on before he left for the French Grand Prix. The unfinished business could be something to do with setting up
Vacances au Soleil
.’

Nanette spent a restless night in Jean-Claude’s guest suite, unable to sleep, fearful that the phone would ring summoning her back to Zac’s bedside.

Early morning sunlight was streaming in through the French doors of the sitting-room when she went downstairs. Jean-Claude was in the kitchen, listening to the news on the radio and preparing a breakfast tray for her.

‘After you eat, I’ll take you to the hospital,’ he said, pouring her a large mug of coffee.

Nanette smiled her thanks and cupped her hands around the bowl. Information about Zac’s accident was dominating the local radio stations’ news bulletins and Nanette tensed as the voice of the woman he’d rescued came down the air. Praising his actions and calling him a hero, the woman sobbed with gratitude as she publicly thanked Zac for saving both her and her baby daughter and wished him a speedy recovery.

Silently, Jean-Claude leant across and switched off the radio. ‘Breakfast,
ma chérie
, then we leave for the hospital.’

There was a small group of journalists hanging around the main entrance to the hospital as they arrived. One of them clearly recognized Nanette, but a glare from Jean-Claude and a sharp warning ‘
Non
’ stopped him in the act of pointing his camera at her.

Zac’s room was full of doctors and nurses and a worried Nanette and Jean-Claude had to wait outside for some time before they were allowed in.

‘Is there any improvement in his condition?’ Nanette asked.

‘Monsieur Ewart had a stable night,’ a young nurse informed them, ‘but he remains unconscious.’

It was early afternoon when Zac stirred briefly and returned the gentle pressure as Nanette held his hand. That hardly felt squeeze filled Nanette with hope, but the rest of the afternoon passed without any further progress in Zac’s condition.

At eight o’clock, as Jean-Claude suggested they should think about preparing to leave for the day, Zac unexpectedly opened his eyes and looked at them. Nanette felt her heart skip a beat as she smiled down at him.

‘Hello Zac.’

‘Nanette. Sorry. Shouldn’t have lied.’

The words were spoken so softly that Nanette could barely hear them. She bent over him, anxious to catch anything else he might say.

‘Please forgive me.’

‘Of course, Zac. It’s in the past. Just get well.’

Nanette glanced up as the machine started to emit a series of quick peeps and a nurse bustled in to check it.

‘Would you mind leaving and coming back tomorrow please?’

As she turned to go, Zac murmured her name.

‘Nanette – thank you.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Zac.’

Moving towards the door where Jean-Claude was waiting for her, she turned to smile and mouthed ‘goodbye’ at Zac and caught the whispered words ‘Be happy, Nanette’ before his eyes closed again.

Jean-Claude held her hand tightly as he quickly led her past the journalists still waiting in the foyer.

‘Any news?’ one called out.

‘
Non
,’ Jean-Claude answered shortly.

To Nanette’s surprise Jean-Claude didn’t drive straight back to the villa instead he drove down to Cap D’Ail and parked the car.

‘Come on, a walk along the beach to blow the cobwebs away,’ he said. ‘You need some fresh air before we go home for supper.’

Strolling along with Jean-Claude’s arm around her shoulders holding her tight, Nanette felt strangely detached from reality. The last thirty-six hours had passed in a blur. Only now was she beginning to comprehend what had happened.

Zac’s delirious ramblings had taken her to his bedside out of compassion and in remembrance of their past love. Now, as the breeze off the Mediterranean ruffled her hair, she thought about that love. How Zac’s actions had changed it – how she had changed in the aftermath of her accident.

‘If – when – Zac comes out of hospital, he will still need a lot of care for some time,’ Jean-Claude said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Round the clock attendance probably.’

Nanette nodded. ‘I’ll find the best for him. We’ll nurse him back to health. Thank goodness he can afford all the care and help we need.’

At her words, Jean-Claude stopped walking and turned Nanette to face him. ‘You are going to help nurse him?’

‘No, not nurse him, but I’ll organize his day-to-day needs.’

‘How do you think he will react to the scars he is clearly going to have? Modern plastic surgery can do so much, but I’d hazard a guess that Zac’s good looks have gone forever.’

‘He’s never been a bitter man – arrogant and self-seeking maybe,’ Nanette answered slowly. ‘I think once he knows the
extent of his injuries, he’ll get on with improving what he can and simply accept what he can’t. He’s always been very strong like that.’

‘And you,
ma chérie
?’ Jean-Claude gazed at her intently. ‘How strong are you? How will you cope with a damaged Zac Ewart in your life?’

‘JC, I can’t just walk away from him.’ Like he did to me, she added mentally.

‘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.’