The Affair (22 page)

Trevor had never replied to the letter she wrote to him the previous September, and he wasn’t very communicative during their twice-weekly phone calls, so Diana was astonished when she received a letter from him just two days later, via the courier from London. She sat at her desk and opened it to find a devastatingly honest love letter. The blood drained from her face.

I’m an idiot
.
I’ve been hurt and depressed beyond measure that you were able to leave me for so many months but I realise I haven’t expressed those feelings to you. Maybe you think I am quite content in your absence, but I believed you would understand how miserable I am when you saw me at Christmas. I miss you more than I would ever have thought possible. I find our telephone calls excruciating because I hear your voice sounding cheerful and excited and then you are gone again and I am alone. Do you know, you never say you miss me? I don’t believe you do. The only thing that’s kept me going has been counting the weeks till Easter when we can be together again. I still want all the things we planned before: I love you and want you to be the mother of our children. I want to live with you by my side and for us to grow old together. Please tell me you still want this too.

We’ve been apart too long, Diana, and I feel you slipping further and further away. Let me come out to Rome for the Easter holidays and we can spend time together, touring the sights and remembering why we got married in the first place. Please let us do that with open hearts. I want my wonderful wife back.

Diana couldn’t move. Her hands shook as she stared in anguish at the pages covered in his familiar handwriting.

‘Bad news?’ Hilary asked.

Diana bit her lip. ‘Trevor wants to come out here for Easter,’ she whispered.

‘But I thought you two must have separated? I … forgive me, but I saw you with Ernesto and assumed you must have ended your marriage when you were back at Christmas.’

Diana blushed scarlet. ‘No, I’m afraid I’ve got myself into rather a mess. How can I stop Trevor coming? What reason could I give? I simply don’t know what to do.’ What had she expected? That he would accept the extra months’ delay without complaint? Him coming to Rome would be a disaster on all counts.

‘You’ll have to tell Ernesto to stand aside. He’ll understand.’ She caught the fear in Diana’s expression. ‘You haven’t fallen for him, have you? It’s all happened at lightning speed. You must take care, my dear.’ She frowned as she patted Diana on the shoulder. ‘Affairs on film sets never last.’

Diana turned her head away. That might be true of actors and actresses but Hilary didn’t know how much she and Ernesto were in love. How could she?

She was working at her desk that day checking through requisition forms and trying to resolve oddities such as why thirty-six dark blue nuns’ wimples had been ordered for the Nubian slaves. The words and figures swam in front of her eyes as she imagined Trevor and Ernesto coming face to face. She felt sure Ernesto would give the game away. Somehow she had to keep them apart. Oh, it was all such a mess. Previously she had considered herself a decent person, but now she would be forced to hurt the two men she loved most in the world.

That evening Diana was invited to a party to celebrate Elizabeth Taylor’s thirtieth birthday. Eddie Fisher had popped in to ask everyone in the production office, smiling from ear to ear and obviously jubilant. He’d won the competition; his rival had been vanquished.

Elizabeth was said to be furious with him for confronting Sybil Burton about the affair but she hadn’t thrown him out and now he was planning to give her the best birthday party ever. It would show the world they were still united, still in love.

Diana would have to wear her lilac dress again because she didn’t have anything else that was suitably dressy. She asked Helen for help with her makeup but Helen claimed to have another engagement.

‘Is it a date?’ Diana smiled, and Helen shook her head.

‘No, nothing like that, just a friend.’ She didn’t volunteer any more information.

‘You’re looking much better. Have you got your appetite back?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to pay you back yet. I’m still sorting out my debts.’

‘Just forget about it,’ Diana told her. ‘Consider it a gift.’

‘Thanks,’ Helen beamed. ‘That will help a lot. Have a good time tonight.’

She felt guilty that she couldn’t invite Helen to the party. Eddie had said they could each bring a partner, so she was taking Ernesto but she knew Helen would have loved to attend and hoped she wasn’t hurt not to be invited.

They took a taxi to the Hostaria del Orso, a fourteenth-century building between the Piazza Navona and the Tiber. The party was being held in an enclosed loggia, the so-called Borgia Room, beyond which you could see stone columns with Corinthian capitals. She told Ernesto that Corinthian was the most ornate type of order, with fluted acanthus leaves and scroll decorations, and he gazed at her in admiration.

‘I love it that you know these things.’

‘You’re not spying tonight, are you?’ she asked. ‘I’m not going to be left alone while you rush off to report on proceedings to your journalist friend or to call Paolo?’

‘Of course not.’ He sounded hurt, but she could tell from a flicker of the eyes that’s exactly what he had been planning. She was learning to read him. Now he would have to think of a convincing excuse if he wanted to slip away and she would do her best to detain him.

They were offered glasses of Dom Pérignon champagne and led to a table on the far side of the room. Everyone chatted, listened to the music drifting through from the nightclub where they would dance later, and waited for Elizabeth and Eddie to arrive. She was late, of course, but she looked stunning in a white fur jacket over an ice-blue satin dress, her hair piled high in an elaborate style. She sat beside Rex Harrison and Rachel Roberts, with Joe and Walter opposite. There was no sign of the Burtons. Eddie clapped his hands and asked for silence while he presented his birthday gifts.

First, there was an antique mirror set with emeralds, and Elizabeth exclaimed with pleasure when she unwrapped it.

‘I just love presents, but this is rather big,’ she announced theatrically. ‘Don’t you have anything smaller, dear?’

Eddie grinned and produced a jewellery box from his top pocket. He opened it, presented it to his wife, and she gasped and put it on her finger. It was a huge diamond ring that caught the light of the Murano glass chandeliers, producing beams that shot around the room.

‘She’s acting,’ Diana whispered to Ernesto. ‘What a peculiar scene. It looks as though they rehearsed it. Why didn’t he give her such a special present in private?’

‘You know a lot of things, my treasure,’ Ernesto took her hand, ‘but you don’t yet understand the ways of the rich and famous. This is all about making a statement. Eddie is trying to tell the world that he’s back in his place as the husband of the most famous woman in the world.’

‘I don’t understand. Why does he need the world to know? Isn’t it enough that they have each other without such embarrassing public pronouncements?’

‘Ah, but the point is that it is not actually true. He knows it, she knows it and most people here know it. You are the rare exception. I love your naïvety.’

Diana was slow to catch his meaning. ‘Are you implying it’s not true?’

‘Yeah, she’s back with Richard again. I saw them myself. She had a shawl over her head as she hurried into his trailer this afternoon and minutes later the entire vehicle was rocking on its wheels. They’re addicted. They can’t give up now.’

‘Oh no, poor Eddie.’ Diana glanced over to where he was toasting his wife with raised glass.
And poor Trevor
, she thought to herself.
Poor old Trevor
.

It was Diana’s birthday just a couple of weeks after Elizabeth Taylor’s but she planned to keep it as quiet as possible. Twenty-six wasn’t an age to celebrate. She felt ancient compared to all the gorgeous young actresses and makeup artists and assistants working at Cinecittà. Ernesto wasn’t about to let it pass without marking the day, though, and when she awoke in the morning she found he had slipped out to buy some flowers – yellow roses surrounded by white baby’s breath – and one of the chocolate-filled
cornetti
she especially liked.

‘This is just the start. I will bring your real present later, when we have dinner,’ he promised, as she kissed him in thanks.

Her second surprise of the day came with the arrival of the courier from London. There was a large brown envelope addressed to her and she recognised Trevor’s handwriting. What on earth could it be? She sat down at her desk to open it and pulled out a book –
Pale Fire
, by Vladimir Nabokov, a Russian author who had written a scandalous novel called
Lolita
seven years earlier. Diana and Trevor had both admired it as a fine piece of writing and talked scornfully of reviewers who didn’t seem to understand the concept of the unreliable narrator and thought that Nabokov was advocating sexual relations with a minor. She was keen to read this next book, which had just been published.

There was something else in the envelope: a jewellery box. She opened it with trepidation, and was touched beyond measure when she recognised a charm bracelet that had belonged to her mother, one of those ones on which you hang mementoes from places you visit. There was a tiny shield with the national badge of Switzerland, a pixie from Cornwall, a Pictish symbol from the island of Skye, and so forth. The catch had broken long ago and Diana stored it as a keepsake only, but when she looked she saw that Trevor had had it mended, good as new.

‘
I thought you might like to have this,
’ he wrote in a little flowered card, ‘
and perhaps you can add a Roman charm. Happy birthday to my wonderful wife.
’

Apart from the gloves he bought her at Christmas, she couldn’t remember the last time Trevor had chosen a present for her himself, apart from books – they often bought each other books. Repairing her mother’s bracelet was extremely thoughtful. She fastened it on her wrist and Hilary came over to admire it.

‘Is it your birthday?’ she asked, spotting the card. ‘Goodness, you should have said. I’d have got you something. Why don’t we all go for a drink later?’

‘I think Ernesto has plans.’ Diana frowned, realising she’d either have to remove the charm bracelet or explain it to him.

Eddie Fisher appeared in the doorway.

‘Guess what? It’s Diana’s birthday!’ Hilary called.

‘Congratulations!’ he smiled, and came over to give her a hug. ‘Eighteen again, are you? Wish I could stay to help you celebrate but I came in to say goodbye because I’m off to New York on business.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Diana said, meaning it. ‘Will you be gone for long?’

He shrugged. ‘You just have to see how these things go.’ There was an odd look on his face. Perhaps he meant that he would have to see how his marriage went, rather than his business meetings.

His arm was still draped around Diana’s shoulders as the door opened and Ernesto walked in carrying a pink and white birthday cake. He glowered at them.

‘Oh, look!’ Hilary cried. ‘Lovely Ernesto has brought cake. Don’t you have any candles for it? In England we light candles on our birthday cakes.’

Diana stepped away from Eddie. ‘It’s perfect as it is. What a glorious idea. Shall we all have a slice?’

‘I have a plane to catch,’ Eddie said, sounding melancholy. ‘But many happy returns, Diana.’

Diana didn’t have time to think about him further as Candy made tea and Hilary cut the cake. After they’d eaten, Ernesto asked if he could have a word with her in private, so she stepped outside onto the lawn with him.

As soon as they were out of earshot, he demanded: ‘What were you doing sucking up to Eddie like that?’

She was astonished. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! He hugged me because Hilary told him it was my birthday. You’re not jealous, are you?’

Ernesto seemed somewhat mollified. ‘Well, he is a single man now. For all I know he might have been trying to seduce you.’

‘Wait a moment. What do you mean he’s single?’

‘Richard turned up drunk at their villa last night and insisted that Elizabeth choose between them – and she chose Richard. That’s why Eddie is skulking off to New York.’

‘How do you know all this? You have spies inside her villa, do you?’ She narrowed her eyes in distaste.

Ernesto shook his head. ‘She was having a dinner party at the time and the scene was witnessed by many guests. Everyone is talking about it on the set today, not just me.’

‘Oh poor Eddie. That’s horrible.’ Her heart went out to him. It was bad enough being rejected without being publicly humiliated.

Suddenly Ernesto’s eyes were on her wrist. ‘Where did you get that bracelet? Was it from him?’

‘Eddie? Of course not! Silly boy!’ She touched his cheek. ‘It used to be my mother’s. I don’t wear it very often.’ She turned away so he couldn’t see her cheeks flush with the almost-lie. ‘I must go to sound stage 7 now. Joe wanted me to have a look at the sunken bath.’