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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 withcups 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 anniversary of my accident the week after the Grand Prix. Perhaps coming back to the scene of the crime will jerk my memory into action. Like the police doing reconstruction scenes in the hope of finding new witnesses.’
    ‘Oh, I don’t know, Nanette,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘But if you ever need a … I think you English call it a shoulder to cry on? Then I’m here.’
    ‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully. ‘Olivia and I may well take you up on the offer of spending the actual race day up here though.’
     
    Switching off her radio alarm Nanette lay in bed for a fewmoments, thinking and planning the day ahead. Once she’d got the twins to school she was going shopping for a dress to wear to this evening’s cocktail party and then she had an appointment at the hairdressers.
    Knowing how immaculate the women who attended these parties always looked she knew she had to make an effort for Jean-Claude’s sake. She didn’t want to let him down with his business acquaintances.
    Slipping her feet into her slippers, she stood up stretching her arms above her head as she did so, only to freeze in mid-action as she glanced out of the window.
    Several yachts were about to enter the harbour and one of them looked uncomfortably familiar. Pulling her dressing-gown tight, Nanette stepped out on to her balcony and watched as the boats motored in.
    The crew of Pole Position worked quickly and efficiently and it was only a matter of minutes before the yacht was secured on her mooring – directly opposite the block of apartments. Once the boat was tied up and the gangway lowered to the quay, Nanette held her breath waiting to see if Zac would appear.
    But a lone crew member was the only person to run down and