The Affair (16 page)

They kissed, said ‘Happy Christmas’ to each other and then she started preparing the turkey for the oven.

Chad arrived at two-thirty and his presence provided a welcome distraction. He was big and lanky, with chestnut hair and a broad freckled face. He and Trevor had a playful relationship in which they teased each other about the differences between Britain and America.

‘Do you know, Chad thought his name was an original American one? I had to disabuse him and direct him to read about the seventh-century Anglo-Saxon bishop Chad of Mercia.’

Chad grinned. ‘Is Mer-see-a another of those strange English places with misspelled names, like Gl-ow-cess-ter and Eddin-burra?’ He pronounced them phonetically. ‘Why don’t you just try to get the spellings right in the first place? Maybe you should invite an American over to correct them for you.’

This was fuel to the fire and they had a lively debate which culminated in Trevor suggesting that Britain should recolonise the United States in order to teach them how to speak the English language correctly and how to understand irony. Chad retorted that England was a defunct colonialist power, and Trevor snorted at the fact that Americans mistakenly used the term ‘England’ rather than ‘United Kingdom’.

Chad ate three helpings of Christmas dinner and Diana could tell he was having a good time. ‘Why don’t you stay over?’ she suggested when she heard he would have to walk several miles to his lodgings since the buses weren’t running. Having a third person there made it easier because there was no chance of uncomfortable topics being raised.

They listened to a rather good play on the radio that evening and drank gin and orange, then Diana made up a bed for Chad and lent him a toothbrush.

When she and Trevor got to bed, neither attempted to initiate sex. Diana felt hesitant about making the approach after her rejection that morning and was waiting for a sign from him that he felt up to it. It would be good to make love; it would make things feel normal again. But Trevor didn’t make any advances. Perhaps he felt inhibited with Chad next door. Instead they cuddled and chatted quietly about their plans for the following day. No mention was made of Diana’s imminent return to Rome, or Trevor’s colleague’s paper, or any subject that might threaten the equilibrium. They both wanted things to be fine and by striving to make it so, created an atmosphere that felt artificial and forced.

On Boxing Day, after driving Chad back to his student accommodation, they visited Trevor’s parents. His sister was there with her three young children, and Trevor instantly became the fun uncle they could climb all over. Diana had a lump in her throat as she watched him ‘skin the rabbit’ with the littlest one by pulling her hands through her legs until she twirled round in a backwards somersault. He wanted children so badly and he’d be a great father; there was no question about it. It wasn’t fair of her to make him wait. As soon as she got back from Rome, they should begin trying again. Unfortunately, her period started while they were at the house and Trevor’s sister had to lend her a sanitary towel and belt. Diana told her the story of Liz Taylor’s dog needing one, and they both had a chuckle.

For the rest of the holiday, Trevor and Diana steered clear of controversial topics. They visited friends for supper one evening, at which Diana carefully played down all mention of Rome, and on another evening they attended a recital at the Royal Academy of Music. Diana mended Trevor’s clothes and bought him some new ones in the post-Christmas sales. They were affectionate, and often held hands as they listened to the radio in the evening or cuddled up in bed, but her period precluded any love-making. Diana was glad, because when she looked at Trevor she didn’t feel desire. She enjoyed his company, but it still felt odd that he wouldn’t let her tell him anything about her role on the film set and this exciting new chapter in her life. Was this how their marriage would be from now on? Is that what marriage was like for other people: companionship without passion?

The atmosphere became chillier as her departure date, the 4th of January, approached. Trevor shut himself in his study when she began to pack her case. She tried asking once more if he would join her for a weekend – or longer, if he could be spared – but he claimed it was entirely out of the question given his workload.

On the morning of her departure, they stood with their arms around each other in the hall, her head on his shoulder, absorbing each other’s body warmth and inhaling the scent. She knew he felt sad and resentful that she was holding him back in his work, but she was hurt that he showed no interest in something that meant so much to her. Was that the behaviour of someone who loved her? Or had Trevor only cared about her when she was being the wife he wanted her to be? It felt like the end of an era.

Diana started crying as soon as the plane lifted off British soil and tears kept rolling down her cheeks throughout the flight. An air hostess brought her some paper handkerchiefs and a glass of water but that just made her cry more. Being so distant from Trevor was a form of bereavement. There were three more months before she would return home and she had no hope that he would relent and join her. He barely spoke when she telephoned him from Cinecittà. Once she got back to London, the distance between them would be even greater and she began to question how they would ever overcome it.

It’s not over yet
, she told herself.
You can still save your marriage if you try your hardest.

But she had been trying her hardest all Christmas and it had been a terrible strain. How could she stay with Trevor if he wouldn’t let her be herself and talk about the subjects she was interested in? How could she stay with him when she was no longer attracted to him? She wished there were someone wise she could discuss it with. If only her mother were alive; that’s what mothers were for. She had women friends in London, of course, but none of them knew there was the slightest question mark over her marriage and it would seem disloyal to say so. Many were married to friends of Trevor’s and she couldn’t risk word getting back to him. Maybe she would confide in Hilary if the moment arose, but Hilary was always frightfully busy.

The flight landed at Leonardo da Vinci airport at four in the afternoon and she made her way through to arrivals, expecting to see one of the studio drivers. Instead, there was Ernesto, standing with a cheeky grin and holding a card with her name on it.

‘Mrs Bailey? Your car is waiting,’ he said in a mock-formal voice.

‘What are you doing here?’ she laughed.

He noted her red swollen eyes and pulled her in for a hug. ‘I was trying to make up for the fact that no one met you last time you arrived, but now I have a second mission. I am going to take you for some Bellinis to cheer you up. No arguments now.’

‘I wasn’t going to argue. I’d
love
a drink,’ she said.

He drove her to Trastevere, a district of narrow twisting streets and pretty church squares that she hadn’t visited before. The bar he pulled up in front of wasn’t grand. Empty beer casks served as tables, with small leather stools to sit on, and every inch of wall space was covered in drawings, many of them nudes.

‘Artists swap them for a drink when they run out of money,’ Ernesto explained. ‘It’s an old European tradition.’

She gulped thirstily at her first Bellini and Ernesto raised his finger to order another round. By halfway down the second glass, Diana found herself telling him about her Christmas. She was careful not to exaggerate the difficulties and grateful that Ernesto let her talk rather than leaping in with his own opinions, but when she had finished he simply said ‘Your husband sounds like a fool.’

His words made Diana start to cry. ‘But I love him,’ she sobbed. ‘I do.’

Ernesto put his arm around her and pulled her head to his shoulder. ‘You deserve someone who loves you with passion, someone who will do whatever it takes to make you happy. I think you will find that person if you just allow yourself to look.’

‘I can’t think about finding someone else when I’m married. Why is everything so complicated?’

The barman brought them each a bowl of pasta, with forks rolled in serviettes, and Diana was surprised because she hadn’t thought it was a restaurant.

‘It’s not,’ Ernesto told her. ‘This is what his wife has made for the family this evening and they are sharing it with us. It’s why I like Trastevere. This is the food everyone should eat in Rome.’

The pasta was simply coated in butter and Parmesan cheese and it melted in the mouth. Soon after they finished eating, the third round of Bellinis arrived and Diana could feel the alcohol taking the edge off her despair and making her light-headed.

‘How was Christmas with your family?’ she asked. ‘Was it as busy and chaotic as you predicted?’

‘I was sad,’ Ernesto told her. ‘I missed someone.’

‘Do you mean that girlfriend you told me about who married a richer man?’ She frowned. Hadn’t he said that happened years earlier?

He leaned towards her. ‘No, someone closer to me.’ He whispered in her ear. ‘I missed
you
, Diana.’

The words took her completely by surprise, but when Ernesto took her chin between his fingers and placed his lips on hers, she didn’t resist. The kiss was just a touch at first but soon grew more intense, and at the same time he stroked her head, running his hand back over her hair again and again, as if petting a kitten. For a moment she allowed herself to surrender to the sensations, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that said
I’m married. I should stop this now
,
but then guilt overcame her and she pulled away.

‘You mustn’t do this.’

Ernesto stroked her cheek. ‘You’re so beautiful, Diana. You have the kind of face that doesn’t need makeup or artifice. I’d like to look at you first thing in the morning, with sleepy eyes and a crease on your cheek from the pillow.’

Her lips were still tingling from his kisses but she managed to find some reserves of willpower. ‘Please take me home. I’m a little tipsy or I would never have let you kiss me. I do hope I didn’t mislead you.’

‘As you wish,’ he whispered and raised his hand to signal for the bill.

Driving back in the car, he stroked her kneecap with a firm, sensual touch, and she didn’t try to stop him. It felt lovely. Outside her
pensione
, Ernesto pulled her close for another hug but she resisted when he tried to kiss her on the lips.

‘Thank you for picking me up,’ she said, pulling away, ‘and for the drinks and supper, but I must go now.’

He jumped out of the car to carry her suitcase up the stairs to her landing. At the doorway, she took it from him and began to say goodnight but he reached out to embrace her.

‘One goodnight kiss. Only a little one,’ he insisted, and she surrendered to the luxury of his lips before pulling away.

‘I must go inside,’ she insisted, with a firmness she didn’t feel.

‘I shall dream of you,’ he said, looking at her intensely before turning to walk down the stairs.

She shut the door and threw herself onto her bed, feeling more aroused – and more confused – than she had ever been in her life.

Scott took Rosalia for dinner early in the New Year. She’d bought him a shirt as a Christmas present and he didn’t have anything for her, so that was the first awkward moment.

‘You shouldn’t have,’ he told her. ‘Really, it’s too much.’

The evening became more and more difficult, with long silences and tears obviously not far off, and he regretted that he hadn’t simply suggested a coffee instead. He could have done the deed and been on the way home by now, instead of which he was forced to make small talk about his parents, his work and her family.

‘It looks like this year is going to be very busy,’ he began, after the main course had been cleared. ‘The editor wants me to travel more and I don’t know when I’m going to be in Rome. Under the circumstances, it doesn’t seem fair to ask you to wait for me.’
Coward
, he thought to himself.
Why can’t you just be honest?

‘But of course I’ll wait!’ she exclaimed.