Authors: Jennifer Bohnet
‘Are you all right?’ asked a concerned Jean-Claude. ‘Do you think you’ve broken anything?’
Nanette shook her head. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m just winded. But I could do with a hand to get up.’
Gently Jean-Claude helped her to her feet.
‘
Mademoiselle
, I am so sorry,’ the photographer said.
‘It’s OK.’ Nanette said. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going either.’
She looked at Jean-Claude. ‘Could we just get to the restaurant please? I’d like some water.’
‘Hey!’ the photographer said suddenly. ‘I recognize you. Aren’t you the woman who nearly killed Zac Ewart?’
Days later, the words ‘Aren’t you the woman who nearly killed Zac Ewart?’ were still ringing in Nanette’s head as she kept going over and over the incident.
She’d known it was inevitable that someone from the past would recognize her, but somehow she’d expected it to happen during Grand Prix week when people she’d worked with years ago would be in town.
As she’d stared at the photographer, shocked into silence by his words, Jean-Claude had stopped a passing taxi, helped her into it and taken her back to his villa. He had comforted her, telling her that it was an isolated incident.
‘You might have a certain notoriety for a few days now the press have realized you’re back. Especially’ – he hesitated before continuing – ‘when Zac Ewart arrives. But I promise you it will pass.’
He had poured her a small brandy, encouraging her to sip it, while he phoned the restaurant and cancelled his reservation. He’d then cooked them pasta for supper before driving her back to the apartment.
Mathieu had been in when they arrived and Jean-Claude had quickly told him about the evening’s incident before
wishing Nanette ‘Goodnight.’
As Mathieu saw JC out, Nanette opened the patio doors and stepped on to the balcony. Standing there watching the lights and looking over the harbour she was deep in thought when Mathieu joined her.
‘I see
Pole Position
is back,’ he said, looking down towards the yachts. There was a pause before he added, ‘Zac is planning a big party on board in a couple of weeks I understand.’
‘Of course he is,’ Nanette said shortly, remembering when she’d done the organizing for on-board parties. ‘And, knowing Zac, he won’t stop at the one.’
Mathieu looked at her. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked gently.
Nanette nodded. ‘Yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just that photographer tonight.…’ She sighed, shook her head and didn’t finish the sentence.
‘Don’t let it worry you,’ Mathieu said. ‘A couple more weeks, there will be so many famous people in town the paparazzi will forget about you.’
‘Hope you’re right,’ Nanette answered. She looked at him hesitantly before asking, ‘Are you in touch with Zac?’
Mathieu nodded. ‘He’s getting some pit lane passes for me.’
‘Does he know I’m here?’
‘Yes. I told him you were coming to look after the twins for me.’
‘How did he react?’
Mathieu shrugged. ’He didn’t say anything so I can’t tell you.’
Mathieu was the first to speak again after a short silence.
‘Talking of parties. We’ve got the Vintage Grand Prix this
year the weekend before the main one and I’m giving a lunch on the Sunday. Just friends and a few business contacts.’ He glanced at her. ‘I hope you’ll join us?’
‘Thanks. What about the twins though? Pierre will be keen, but Olivia will find the whole thing totally boring.’
Mathieu smiled. ‘Maybe when she hears a certain pop star is on the guest list she’ll come round.’
‘Of course, you’re directly above the start line here,’ Nanette said, leaning on the balcony watching the cars moving along the Boulevard Albert 1st below. ‘You’ll have a great view. People will be begging to come.’
‘The sound effects will be pretty awesome too,’ Mathieu said. ‘Nanette, I meant what I said the other evening about us getting to know each other better – I’m aiming to be home more in the next few weeks so I hope we can spend some time together. I’m sorry I had to cancel our date to see the tennis, but I hope you won’t hold that against me.’
‘Of course not. I was busy helping Jean-Claude sort out his office anyway.’
‘I’ve promised the twins I’ll take them out next Monday as it’s a fête. I’ve got some friends who have a place up in the country near Grasse who’ve invited us for the day. Olivia and Pierre love it up there. Will you come, too?’
Before Nanette could reply his mobile rang and, with an apologetic smile, Mathieu turned from her and answered it. Nanette closed the balcony doors, mouthed ‘goodnight’ to a distracted Mathieu and went to bed with her thoughts.
A dishevelled Mathieu appeared the next morning as Nanette was getting the twins ready to leave for school.
‘Morning,’ he said, helping himself to a cup of coffee and
joining the twins as they ate their
pains au chocolat
at the breakfast bar in the kitchen.
‘I’ve got to go away again this morning for a couple of days,’ he said to the twins.
‘What about our day out to Grasse?’ Pierre demanded. ‘You promised you’d take us. We’re not going to have to cancel again are we?’
‘Definitely not,’ Mathieu said. ‘I’ll be back for that, and the good news is that Nanette is coming with us.’
‘Mathieu, I’ve been thinking about that and I need to talk to you about it,’ Nanette said.
Mathieu glanced at her. ‘Talk later. Right now there are one or two papers I need to find for my trip and you two had better get a move on or you’ll be late for school.’ And Mathieu disappeared into the sitting-room. Seconds later he could be heard talking on his phone.
Nanette stifled a sigh. ‘Come on you two. Dad’s right. Let’s go.’
Once she’d walked the twins to school and seen them into the grounds, Nanette hurried back to the apartment, hoping that Mathieu would still be there.
Because Nanette now had the bedroom Mathieu would normally have used as his office, he’d moved his computer, desk and a two-drawer filing cabinet into a tiny windowless area at the back of the sitting-room that housed a small fridge and a drinks cabinet for when he was entertaining guests on the balcony.
Florence was busy vacuuming as Nanette let herself into the apartment. She walked straight through the sitting-room, surprising Mathieu who was watching his printer waiting for the last piece of paper to join a freshly printed batch whilst
mumbling into his phone. He jumped visibly at the sound of Nanette’s voice and hurriedly switched the phone off before turning to face her.
‘Mathieu about the trip to Grasse. Is it the de Oliviers’ farm you’re visiting?’
‘Yes.’
‘In that case I’d rather not go with you.’
‘Why on earth not?’
Nanette looked at him quizzically. ‘Why do you think? Zac and I used to visit them regularly when they lived up at Eze. I’m pretty sure they—’
‘Would be very pleased to see you again,’ Mathieu interrupted.
Nanette shook her head. ‘I’d still rather not go.’
Mathieu looked at her before saying stonily, ‘You are here to look after the twins. It’s not really for you to decide whether you go or not. I could insist you accompany us.’
‘I do look after the twins – when they are not at school I organize their lives,’ Nanette said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ve actually seen more of them than you have in the last few weeks – you’re always dashing off somewhere or other. You certainly weren’t around for Pierre’s after school football match, or Olivia’s music exam,’ she added crossly. ‘Olivia has already told me how much they are both looking forward to having you to themselves on Monday.’ She paused, before adding slowly, ‘But, Mathieu, if you don’t think I’m doing enough for the twins, you can always tell me to go and take over the job yourself. I’d be quite happy to go home – I didn’t want to come back here in the first place!’
She looked him straight in the eyes before adding, ‘I’m not sure how Vanessa would react to you sacking me though.’
That first night in the eco-tourism camp, Vanessa struggled to sleep under the mosquito net in the hammock slung between two beams of the traditional native hut, reliving the last few hours over and over in her mind.
As Ralph had held her in his arms after José had told them about the plane being shot down, saying she could go home to the twins if she wanted, she’d longed in her heart to do just that. But knowing how important this expedition and her presence on it was to Ralph, she’d steeled herself to continue.
Praying that Ralph was right when he assured her, it was extremely unlikely that another innocent plane would be shot out of the sky in the near future, ‘Lessons will have been learnt’, were his words, she’d taken a deep breath and climbed into the small plane.
To her surprise once they were airborne she’d relaxed and enjoyed the long flight. José had flown them over volcanoes, rivers and acres and acres of jungle. Ralph, quickly realizing he was extremely knowledgeable about his country, had spent most of the journey quizzing him about life in the jungle.
From her vantage point in the small plane the green jungle canopy below had looked to Vanessa like nothing more than giant knobbly heads of broccoli allowed to grow and grow.
Eventually José had landed on a dirt runway that appeared to be in the middle of a native village. As the door of the plane opened and she’d stepped out, the heat and the humidity had enveloped her completely. Seeing her discomfort, José immediately summoned one of the native women who had clustered around, to take her to the shelter of a small hut and
give her a cool drink.
After watching José take off safely for his return journey, Ralph joined Vanessa in the hut. ‘Ready for the next part?’ he asked. ‘The boat is waiting.’ And, taking her by the hand, he helped her down a long length of rickety wooden steps to a small quay where a large motorized wooden canoe was moored.
Once on board, a canopy almost the length of the boat shielded the passengers from the intense heat and, as the canoe began to chug through the water, Vanessa appreciated the light breeze that fanned her face. As they made their way upriver, the noise of the boat’s engine mingled with the squawking of a large flock of parakeets. With the summer rainy season well under way, the river was high and much of the surrounding lowland was flooded.
‘Look,’ Ralph said, laughing, as he pointed to a log floating downstream. It took Vanessa a couple of seconds before she too saw the family of turtles hitching a lift on the
water-sodden
trunk. Gazing out across the wide expanse of water Vanessa tried to see the way ahead but the river appeared to snake its way forever through lush jungle, giving no hint of what lay beyond.
The river journey took over two hours and by the time they reached the camp where they were due to spend a couple of days acclimatizing themselves to their surroundings, Vanessa’s clothes were damp and sticking uncomfortably to her body. The canoe tied up alongside a small quay and suddenly native Indians were all around, helping them land and then to negotiate a bridged wooden walkway that led to the village.
Built by the natives using traditional materials and techniques, there were several thatched wooden structures of
various sizes, all on stilts, all giving the appearance of an authentic and indigenous rainforest village. It was only when she saw the western touches that had been added in the form of private bathrooms with sun-heated showers to the guest cabins that Vanessa realized the place was purpose built for the tourists.
Exhausted, Vanessa climbed up into the hut allocated to her and Ralph, determined to at least shower and change her clothes before joining the others for a meal. Served in the communal dining-room they made the acquaintance of the other guests who were amazed to learn of Ralph’s plans to take his new wife on a trek through unchartered, inhospitable jungle.
As they tucked into a hearty local soup followed by fish baked in vine leaves, Vanessa heard one earnest man tell Ralph quietly, ‘Remember, all the money in the world, won’t get you out of the jungle in a hurry.’
Making their way back to their hut at the end of the evening, Vanessa had asked Ralph what the man was warning him about.
‘Usual stuff about drug barons and gold smugglers.’ Ralph shrugged. ‘He didn’t seem to grasp the fact that my interest is in what remains of the ecological system, not the people who have ruined it. I have no intention of crossing swords with the local bandits.’
Vanessa shifted in her hammock trying to shut out the jungle’s night-time noises of howler monkeys and raucous insects. Briefly she wondered what other animals were out there, unheard, going about their nocturnal lives close to the encampment.
She shivered apprehensively. In twenty-four hours she wouldn’t even have the comfort of a native hut between her and the jungle inhabitants.
Ralph had decided to bring their departure from the camp forward by a day.
‘Harry and Nick have everything organized, so no point in hanging around in this pseudo environment,’ he’d said disparagingly, waving his hand around the campsite. ‘I know it is helping to remedy years of destruction to the jungle, but I want to get to where the real jungle is. See some natives living in the traditional way.’
Tomorrow they would leave the comforts of the camp behind them and then ‘Our adventure really will begin,’ Ralph had said excitedly, as they’d kissed each other goodnight.
‘You sure you won’t change your mind and come with us?’ Mathieu asked, as he and the twins left for their day out in the country. The outing hadn’t been mentioned since their argument a few days before and Nanette was relieved that Mathieu had allowed the subject to drop. This morning he seemed to have forgotten his earlier accusations and was happy to be going with the twins on his own after all.
‘It will be quiet here on your own all day.’
Nanette shook her head. ‘Quite sure, thanks. Besides, I won’t be on my own all day – I’m meeting Jean-Claude later. Enjoy yourselves.’
She was just closing the door behind them when Mathieu called out, ‘Nanette, there’s a package for you in my office. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you yesterday when it came. It’s on my desk.’
Nanette recognized Patsy’s handwriting on the large envelope. Taking a paperknife out of the desk tidy she carefully slit open the envelope. Replacing the paperknife, a crumpled piece of paper beside the wastepaper basket caught her attention. Picking it up she saw it was a detailed map of the Amazon clearly torn out of an atlas.
The twins were following Vanessa’s progress so there was nothing unusual in Mathieu having a map of the trip – in fact there was a large-scale one pinned to the wall – but this one had some of its place names circled in red and haphazardly linked together with numbers written against them. Puzzled, Nanette tried to work out what they could possibly represent, before deciding that it was probably a piece of scrap paper that Mathieu had been doodling on and threw it into the wastepaper basket where Mathieu had obviously intended it to go.