Follow Your Star by Jennifer Bohnet (best value ebook reader .TXT) 📗

Nanette picked up a magazine and a paper from the newsagent in the departure lounge Monday afternoon and settled down to wait for her flight back to Nice.

She’d enjoyed her few days with Patsy and baby Dylan but had missed Jean-Claude desperately. She smiled happily to herself – a few more hours and they would be together with no responsibilities to worry about, just time to enjoy each other’s company.

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?’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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