Free Follow Your Star by Jennifer Bohnet Page A

ready. Go and wish him good luck. He’d love to see you all,’ and Mathieu hadpractically pushed them out of the apartment.
    Along the pit lane the cars with their curiously old-fashioned looks were the star attractions. Pierre was fascinated to see a car that had raced in the very first Monaco Grand Prix over sixty years ago on display at the end of the pit lane enclosure.
    And even Olivia was impressed when Jean-Claude told them how well his qualifying laps had gone.
    ‘Can’t believe the old girl went so well. Fourth on the grid. Just have to hope she keeps going now.’ He patted the dark green bonnet of the car gently. ‘Imagine I’m alongside Stirling on the third row,’ he said, looking at Nanette.
    Nanette smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. ‘Good luck,’ she said, leaving Jean-Claude and his mechanic to finish their adjustments to the car.
    Strolling along the pit lane with the twins, Nanette remembered the countless times she’d been involved in preparations for Grand Prix races with Zac all over the world, but there was something different about this pit lane. It took her several minutes to realize exactly what it was.
    There were crowds of people milling around and there was the usual frenzy of mechanics preparing cars for racing but it was all rather subdued and, like the cars, old-fashioned. The razzamatazz atmosphere of a modern Formula 1 grand prix was missing. Next week Monaco would be in the grip of twenty-first-century racing car fever as the modern Formula 1 road-show took over and Monaco turned itself into the most glamorous race-track in the world, but this Sunday morning, it was all about nostalgia.
    Knowing that once the racing started they wouldn’t be able to leave the pit lane, Nanette ushered the twins across theroad and they made their way slowly home.
    Back in the apartment, Pierre grabbed Mathieu’s binoculars and took up his position on the balcony where he had a good view of both the starting grid and the pit lane exit. Guests were starting to arrive, at one of whom, a tall lanky teenager, Olivia took one look and gasped.
    ‘Dad didn’t say he was coming,’ she said. Nanette laughed at the expression on her face.
    ‘Who is he?’
    Olivia looked at her in disbelief. ‘You must recognize him. It’s Foxey. He’s the lead singer with a really, really cool band. Les Grenouille’s.’
    ‘Oh,’ Nanette said, watching as Olivia ran to her room to change into her ‘best’ jeans – the ones with the tear in the knee – and to fetch her autograph book.
    ‘Be really cool if he’d sign it for me,’ she said. ‘Do you think he will?’
    ‘Don’t see why not,’ Nanette said.
    Nanette was less than thrilled to see the next person who arrived – Boris. Accompanied by a group of six men and the blonde woman Nanette had seen with him in the restaurant, he walked confidently into the apartment. After a cursory glance in her direction and a polite ‘ Bonjour ’, he went through to join Mathieu.
    Nanette stood undecided. She didn’t fancy going out on to the balcony and making small talk to Boris and his cronies until other guests arrived. When the doorbell rang, she quickly called out to Florence, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it,’ and opened the door to find Evie and her boss, Luc, standing there.
    Together they went through to the balcony where Mathieuwas supervising pre-lunch nibbles and drinks. Accepting a glass and taking an hors d’oeuvre Nanette and Evie edged their way along towards Pierre.
    ‘It’s Papa Jean-Claude’s race next,’ he said. ‘Look here he comes out of the pits,’ and he trained the binoculars down on the pit lane exit.
    ‘Gosh, from up here they look like the Dinky toys my kid brother used to play with,’ Evie said, leaning over to get a better look.
    Several of the cars were already on the grid having driven around the circuit to get to their starting positions and their mechanics were once again thronging around giving them final checks in the