The following morning, Mathieu left on his business trip and Nanette’s day slipped into its normal routine imposed by the twin’s school timetable.
With the memory of Jean-Claude’s kiss fresh in her mind, Nanette felt strangely shy when she took the twins up to his villa for an after-school swim. She needn’t have worried. Jean-Claude, as always, the perfect gentlemen, greeted her and the twins in his normal manner. It was only when they were alone for a few minutes, as the twins dried and dressed themselves, that he took her in his arms and gently kissed her.
‘How are you today, ma chérie?’ he asked.
Nanette smiled at him shyly, as her heart skipped a beat at his use of the endearment. She hadn’t imagined it; the kiss had meant something to him as well.
‘Do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?’ he asked. ‘I thought maybe you’d like some company after the twins are in bed,’ he added.
Realising that Jean-Claude had remembered that tomorrow was the third anniversary of her accident, Nanette nodded. ‘Please.’
‘I have a business meeting early evening, but I should be with you by about nine o’clock,’ Jean-Claude said.
‘The twins have a school play rehearsal. I have to collect them at eight thirty, so by the time we’ve walked back, that would be perfect.’
‘Good. I think we have things to talk about, ma chérie,’ Jean-Claude said softly.
The following evening, the streets were quiet as Nanette walked slowly through Monaco to collect the twins. It would be another half-hour before the rush of people out to enjoy themselves for the evening began to make their way to the restaurants and nightclubs.
The hall where the twins were rehearsing was part of the modern apartment block where Zac had lived years ago and Nanette found her footsteps dragging the nearer she got to the building.
Having deliberately avoided this particular area of Monte Carlo since her return, Nanette couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was that it should be this evening of all evenings that she was again having to come to this particular building.
Nanette tried to push thoughts of the past out of her mind and concentrate on present-day aspects of her life – the twins, Jean-Claude, particularly Jean-Claude – but as she crossed the road towards the apartment block, images from her past began to merge with the present-day ones.
The lights were on in various apartments, including No.5 where she and Zac had spent so much time together. As Nanette glanced up, a glamorous woman came onto the small balcony to look out over the street, before going back inside and closing the French doors, shutting Nanette and the world out.
Standing in the middle of the small service road that led to an underground garage, Nanette stared up at the window. Three years ago, she and Zac were in that apartment getting ready to go out and celebrate her birthday before he left for the next Grand Prix.
She remembered how happy she’d been as they left the apartment. Stepping, hand in hand with Zac, into the lift to go down to the garage. Walking across to her new car and driving slowly up out of the underground exit, making for the autoroute and their dinner reservation in Mougins. The start of what had been a perfect evening with the man she loved – and whom she’d thought had loved her.
An unexpected shiver racked her body and Nanette took several deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. Images from later on that fateful evening were beginning to crowd into her brain.
Things she’d forgotten until now. The champagne she’d drunk, the friends they’d met up with, the heavy rain that had begun to fall as they were in the restaurant. Zac’s insistence…
Nanette jumped as a car horn blared out behind her.
‘Hey, lady, that’s not the best place to stand – unless you want to be run down.’ The man in the expensive sports car leant out of his window and rebuked her.
Nanette smiled weakly and mouthed the word ‘sorry’ in his direction, before moving back on to the narrow pavement, and allowing the man and his car to disappear down the ramp into the depths of the underground garage.
Shaking, she leant against the wall. It was several minutes before she felt strong enough to walk the few remaining metres to the rehearsal-hall entrance.
It seemed only a matter of minutes before the twins ran out to join her.
‘Hi, Netty,’ Olivia said, taking hold of her hand as they began to walk, while Pierre ambled along in front.
‘I didn’t forget a single line tonight,’ Pierre said proudly.
‘Well done, you,’ Nanette said, struggling to talk normally. ‘And you, Olivia? How did you get on?’
‘OK,’ Olivia said, turning to look at her. ‘I’ve only got three or four lines to say anyway. Are you all right, Netty? You don’t look very well.’
‘I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ was the only thing Nanette could think of saying. ‘Come on, let’s go home. Shall we have some hot chocolate when we get back?’
Once Nanette had seen the twins into bed, she went through to the balcony and looked down at the boats bobbing around on their moorings. Lights were shining out from the main cabin on Pole Position, and as Nanette watched, a crew member came out on deck to check the positioning of the fenders. Even though Zac wasn’t on board, the crew knew to keep everything in tiptop shape. Zac had been known to arrive unexpectedly even when on a tight schedule between races.
She stared down at the yacht, wondering why her memory had suddenly started to throw pictures of the past at her. Zac’s proposition? Or maybe driving on Sunday had been the trigger? Whatever the catalyst, there appeared to be no stopping the flood of painful reminiscences that were unexpectedly crowding into her mind.
Large droplets of rain blew in unexpectedly under the shelter of the balcony and Nanette grimaced to herself. She gripped the balcony rail tightly as another vignette of that dreadful evening three years ago flooded into her consciousness…
It was raining heavily as they left the restaurant. By the time they were on the autoroute and heading for the first tunnel, it was torrential and Nanette expected Zac to decree leaving at the next exit. Instead, he simply pressed the play button on the radio and the nostalgic words of ‘Yesterday’ struggled to be heard against the noise of the storm and the rhythmic sweep, sweep of windscreen wipers rendered useless by the force of the rain.
It was calmer in the tunnel, but a few metres after they’d they exited it, Nanette saw the huge sheet of water that lay in front of them a split second before the car rose up, aquaplaning out of control across this unexpected lake before narrowly missing another car and hitting the central reservation with a bang and coming to rest in a tangled wreck.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, Nanette had been dimly aware of the nauseous smell of petrol and of Zac dragging her out and away from the wreckage.
‘I’ve phoned for help. Shouldn’t be too long,’ Zac assured her as she lay on the verge.
The paramedics were kind and gently placed her on a stretcher. As they lifted her into the ambulance, Zac leant over her and whispered something.
Now, three years later, Nanette finally remembered what those words had been.
‘Nanette, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.’