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from Rio has become involved some of the men have become wary of me filming the village activities. Particularly the dam,’ Ralph explained quietly.

‘Is that because of the mercury they’re going to be using? Will the profits from the gold still go to the village?’ Vanessa asked.

Ralph’s fingers squeezed hers before saying slowly, ‘Not as much as the villagers hope.’

Vanessa was silent, remembering how worried Angela was about the future of the village and its people, how they desperately needed to find a reliable way of sustaining their way of life.

‘There must be another way,’ Vanessa said thoughtfully. ‘Something legal they can do to survive.’

‘If we could think of another option, I’d be only too happy to help them set it up,’ Ralph said quietly, ‘but as far as I can see there is nothing we can do. There’s something else. They want us to leave.’

‘Are we going to?’

‘Not immediately no. I’ve still got a couple of things I’d like to film. But I’ve promised to stay away from the dam – which suits me. The less I know about it the better.’

Vanessa stroked his forehead gently.

‘How much longer do you think we’ll be here?’ she asked quietly.

‘A week, maybe a bit less – depends on how quickly I get better from this little incident,’ Ralph said. ‘Could I have another drink please?’

As she held the water to Ralph’s lips, Vanessa thought about Ralph’s ‘little incident’. It was typical of him to play down the seriousness of the accident but Vanessa knew it could have turned out so differently. She could have been a widow before they’d been married even six months.

She smothered a sigh. Another week and then the trek back out of the jungle, back to civilization and proper doctors.

Ralph was regarding her anxiously.

‘If you want to leave and wait for me in the eco-camp I’m sure Angela could arrange for a guide.’

‘I’m not leaving you,’ Vanessa said fiercely. ‘We came together and we’ll leave together. OK?’

Ralph nodded weakly and closed his eyes. ‘Love you,’ he whispered as he drifted exhausted back into sleep.

Vanessa sat at his side, still holding his hand, and wishing they were already in the comparative safety of the eco-camp.

Nanette took a deep breath, gripped the steering wheel tightly, and gently pressed the accelerator pedal. As the car began to move forward she found herself hardly daring to breathe.

‘Relax,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Nothing is going to happen.’

It was Sunday mid-morning and the two of them were on their way to Antibes for lunch, when Jean-Claude had taken an unexpected detour before stopping the car and insisting it was time for Nanette to start driving again.

Getting into the driver’s seat was hard but once her seat belt was fastened, Jean-Claude turned the ignition key and waited patiently as Nanette steadied her nerves.

‘Drive to the end of the road and I’ll take over again, if you want me to,’ he said. ‘Just take it slowly.’

By the time she’d steered the car the couple of hundred yards to the end of the road without any mishaps, Nanette had managed to take a couple of deep breaths. As she stopped at the T-junction and pulled the handbrake on she glanced across at Jean-Claude.

‘Can I go a bit further?’ she asked. ‘It actually feels good to be behind the wheel again.’

‘Of course. If you turn left here and then take the next right we’ll be back on the Bord de Mer.’

Nanette eased the car into the stream of traffic and carefully changed gear. By the time she turned on to the Bord de Mer her confidence was returning.

But then a noisy scooter, swerving in and out of the traffic, unnerved her and when the driver clipped her passenger-door wing mirror as he passed too close on the wrong side of the road, she abruptly parked in the first parking space she saw.

She was shaking as she pulled on the handbrake and turned off the ignition before turning to Jean-Claude.

‘That wasn’t your fault,’ he said. ‘You must remember how irresponsible the scooter drivers down here are – they cut everyone up from all angles.’

‘I’d forgotten,’ Nanette said, undoing her seat belt and opening her door. ‘But I’ve had enough. You drive the rest of the way please.’

Twenty minutes later the car was parked and they were strolling along the ancient ramparts in Antibes on their way to one of Jean-Claude’s favourite restaurants. As they settled themselves at a window table Nanette relaxed, she’d been looking forward to spending the day with Jean-Claude from the moment Mathieu had said he was taking the twins out for the day.

‘I’ll be away for most of next week,’ he’d said. ‘So I thought I’d treat them to a day’s sailing in Italy.’

Jean-Claude, who was in the apartment at the time, had immediately insisted Nanette spend the day with him, an invitation she was happy to accept. It would be an ideal opportunity to talk to JC – to ask his advice.

The restaurant, popular with both locals and tourists, was busy but the staff were attentive and within minutes Nanette and Jean-Claude had aperitifs and the bread basket in front of them and the waiter had disappeared to fetch the bottle of wine Jean-Claude had chosen to accompany their main courses.

‘Has the private detective discovered anything?’ Nanette asked as she broke off a piece of bread.

‘Non. Nothing new anyway. Mathieu has had dinner several times at the Automobile Club. Boris was there on one occasion. Zac on another. But my detective wasn’t the only one surveying things. He recognized an ex-gendarmerie colleague who now runs an agency in Nice.’

‘Was he watching Mathieu as well?’

‘Apparently not. He followed Boris when he left. Which makes me wonder, who was paying him to do that?’

‘Your man can’t ask his ex-colleague?’

‘He can ask but he can’t tell me. Client confidentiality and all that,’ Jean-Claude said, shaking his head.

‘Mathieu knows he’s being followed, you know,’ Nanette said. ‘He doesn’t know who’s arranged it, though,’ she added quickly.

Jean-Claude was silent for a

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