The Affair (20 page)

The taxi pulled up in front of the address she had given and he went round to open the door and help her out but motioned for the driver to wait.

‘How about I pick you up on Friday at seven?’

‘Do you mean like a date?’ Helen asked, wide-eyed.

‘Sure.’ Scott grimaced. Was this going to be another situation that would become difficult to extricate himself from?

‘But what will I do tonight?’ she asked, frowning.

‘You should probably go to bed and get some rest. It’s past eleven.’

‘No, it’s not that.’ She whispered conspiratorially: ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got anything, have you?’

‘What kind of thing?’ She was rubbing her nose as if it were itchy, then she began to scratch her bare arm.

‘Oh … you know. To get high.’

He was shocked because she looked so young, but appearances could be deceptive. ‘Sorry, I don’t.’

She sighed and turned into the courtyard of her
pensione
.

‘See you Friday,’ he called after her but wasn’t sure if she’d heard because she didn’t turn round.

Diana arrived at the script meeting on the 17th of February to find an atmosphere of alarm in the room. Joe was on the phone, the film’s publicists were on separate phones trailing long extension leads and Walter was nowhere to be seen. Diana sat down and waited as they all spoke urgently in separate conversations.

‘Where is she now? Where’s he?’

‘Has anyone said anything?’

‘I’ve just spoken to the hospital. She’s still there.’

‘Who’s in hospital?’ Diana whispered to the continuity girl sitting next to her.

‘Elizabeth. She took an overdose last night.’

‘She did
what
?’ Diana got goosebumps.

‘Richard broke up with her and first she tried to walk through a glass door and then she took some pills.’ The girl was enjoying her role as news-breaker. ‘It’s because Eddie Fisher went to see Sybil and told her in no uncertain terms that the rumours were true, and that his wife was being tupped by her husband. Sybil told Richard he had to drop Elizabeth – and lo and behold he did.’

‘But she seriously tried to kill herself over an affair that’s only lasted a few weeks? Are you sure?’ Diana was incredulous.

‘Well, she’s in hospital.’

Diana was alarmed by the news. She was falling more deeply in love with Ernesto every day that passed but if they broke up she would never consider killing herself. It seemed obsessive, insecure behaviour. How could the most famous woman in the world be insecure? Was it just that Elizabeth was used to getting whatever she wanted and couldn’t bear to be thwarted? Or was it a ploy to make Richard feel guilty and win him back?

‘OK, people,’ Joe announced, raising his hand for silence. ‘Obviously we’re not filming today. We’ll probably need a few days off but I want you all on set. Walter is with Elizabeth and he says Eddie just arrived. The story is food poisoning and we must stamp out any rumours that say different. Got it?’ There was a murmur of assent. ‘That’s all for now.’

Diana wandered out of the office, feeling shell-shocked. Up till now, bystanders at Cinecittà had treated the Burton–Taylor affair as an entertainment, a movie within a movie. Now it became apparent that real people’s feelings were involved and that genuine damage was being done. Far from it being an observer sport, Diana realised how close she was to causing the same kind of hurt and damage herself. She couldn’t picture any of the protagonists in her own love triangle taking an overdose but people could surprise you. It was a warning and she knew she should heed it.

A few days later, Elizabeth was back at work and the drama seemed set to blow over, apart from the fact that the owners of the restaurant where she had eaten on the night of the overdose were suing for damages, claiming she could not possibly have been poisoned by their food. Diana assumed some appeasement money would change hands. The last thing anyone needed was a lawsuit about the events of that evening.

Richard was in Paris doing some work on another film, so all was peaceful for a while. His press agent made a vague, woolly statement not quite denying the rumours of the affair, but saying that Richard would never do anything to hurt Elizabeth Taylor, either personally or professionally.

‘Of course he doesn’t deny it,’ Ernesto said cynically. ‘It is the best thing that ever happened to his career. Sleeping with a household name means you become a household name yourself, and can increase your fees to match your new status. Stardom rubs off.’

Diana’s distaste for Richard increased. Could he possibly have planned it this way from the start? She hoped that when he got back to Cinecittà they were both professional enough to carry on working together as before.

A few days later Richard arrived back on set with a leggy blonde beauty several inches taller than him. Everyone gawped as they walked arm in arm from his trailer to the sound stage.

‘Her name’s Pat Tunder,’ Candy told Diana. ‘She’s a dancer in the Copacabana club in New York. He had an affair with her when he was doing
Camelot
on Broadway.’

All eyes turned to Elizabeth to see how she would react to this new arrival and the gossips didn’t have long to wait. That afternoon, a fierce argument between Elizabeth and Richard spilled out onto the avenue outside the sound stages while Diana was having an espresso with Helen.

‘You sonofabitch!’ Elizabeth shrieked. ‘I know more about movie acting than you ever will with your poncy theatrical ways. Don’t dare tell me how to play a scene again or I’ll have you sacked from this movie.’

Richard looked round at the watching crowd with amusement. ‘Your bosom is a better actress than you are. At least it’s not wooden and shrill like your dialogue. Go ahead: try and have me sacked. The lawyers need the work.’

‘Fuck you, you arrogant, malevolent Welsh
dwarf
.’ She strode off in the direction of her dressing room, head held high, in full Cleopatra makeup and wearing a purply-blue décolleté gown that swept along the muddy ground. Richard charged past Diana and Helen into the bar and they heard him ordering a double whisky. The leggy blonde tottered over to join him, looking unsure of herself.

‘How horrible that passion can turn to hatred in the snap of your fingers,’ Diana said to Helen under her breath. She couldn’t imagine how such a thing could be possible, but she assumed the Burton–Taylor affair must have been all about sex. They hadn’t had time to get to know each other the way she was doing with Ernesto. They couldn’t enjoy the luxury of long, relaxed dinners in restaurants, talking about their lives, their hopes and fears, and the things they loved. They weren’t able to sleep curled up in each other’s arms and waken in the morning to see the other’s sleeping face. Diana loved looking at Ernesto while he slept: she could examine his earlobe, the curve of his Adam’s apple, the tiny flecks of grey in his hair that he plucked out furiously when he spotted them. She liked listening to his breathing and feeling the warmth emanating from his golden skin. Their relationship was still very sexual – that side just got better and better – but there was a genuine meeting of the minds as well. The more she got to know him, the deeper she fell in love.

Helen was staring down into her glass, her thoughts miles away.

‘Are you OK?’ Diana asked, with a flicker of concern. ‘I’m going to have a pastry. Shall I get you one?’

‘No, I ate earlier. Thanks anyway.’

‘Are you free to go out one night this week? We haven’t had a pizza in ages.’

‘I’m trying not to eat out because I’m flat broke. Actually …’ She hesitated, and screwed up her face. ‘I don’t suppose you could lend me some money till payday, could you? I’m really strapped this month.’

‘Of course I will. How much do you need?’ Diana opened her purse and had a look. ‘I’ve got forty thousand
lire
with me. Would that help?’

Helen was terribly embarrassed. ‘Are you sure that won’t leave you short? I couldn’t … I’ll pay you back as soon as …’

‘It’s not a problem. And don’t be silly, there’s no rush to pay it back.’

As she walked to the production office, she worried about Helen. Her salary was decent and she should have been able to live on it, but she obviously wasn’t very good at budgeting. Hopefully she would start being more careful.

Hilary was in the office, smoking a cigarette and having a cup of tea. ‘Did you hear about the fight outside the sound stage today?’ Diana asked. ‘Elizabeth and Richard were going at it hammer and tongs.’

Hilary snorted. ‘That’s nothing compared to what they’re like on set. She’s wild with jealousy about the New York dolly bird. She’s either screaming at him or frostily ignoring him, one or the other. He just seems amused by it all.’

‘How does Joe manage to direct them? I’d hate to be in his position.’

Hilary grinned. ‘He says that when you are in a cage with tigers, you must never let them know you are afraid of them.’

Diana laughed. It seemed very apposite. That evening as she lay in bed with Ernesto in the languorous after-glow of sex, she repeated Joe’s comment. He laughed heartily, and she was pleased because she loved to make him laugh.

He rolled over to kiss her once more. ‘I think I’ll just pop out for a cigarette. Won’t be a moment.’

She liked the fact that he didn’t smoke in her room but went to sit on the front step. She had never asked him to; he did it as a matter of common courtesy. Of course, she was used to people smoking around her at work and in restaurants but it was nice to keep the smell out of the room where she slept at night.

After a few moments, she decided to go out and keep him company. She pulled on a dress and cardigan, slipped on a pair of shoes and tiptoed down the stairs so as not to waken the
padrona
, who went to bed early. When she opened the front door she couldn’t see Ernesto on the step, so she looked up and down the street. There was a bar diagonally opposite and through the window she saw Ernesto making a phone call, his back half turned. Who could he be phoning at that time of night? His mother perhaps?

Diana wandered over and as she walked into the bar, she heard him repeating the cage of tigers story in Italian. She stopped, puzzled. Ernesto hadn’t seen her yet. Why would he tell anyone that story? Next, he said that Burton and Tunder were going to be at Harry’s Bar later and that Paolo should try to catch them there.

‘Who’s Paolo?’ she asked when he hung up the receiver, and he jumped and turned round, guilt etched all over his face.

‘Diana!’

‘Who’s Paolo?’ she asked again.

‘Sit down and have a drink. I will explain.’ He motioned towards a table at the back of the bar. ‘Would you like a Bellini?’

‘No, I want to know who Paolo is. Why not tell me now, to put my mind at rest?’

Ernesto shrugged. ‘He’s a photographer. Sometimes I give him a tip-off when I know where people are going to be, and if he gets a photograph I get a little money. That’s all.’

She frowned. ‘But who were you speaking to?’

‘A journalist. Someone I work with from time to time.’

Diana was livid. ‘You just told a journalist a story that Hilary told me in strictest confidence? If it’s printed in the newspapers, she’ll think it was me who blabbed to the press. I can’t believe you would do that.’

Ernesto was defensive. ‘You didn’t tell me it was a confidence.’

‘I assumed I didn’t have to. Does everything I ever tell you go straight to the Italian media? Don’t you care how bad that will make me look?’

‘Calm down, Diana.’ He tried to put an arm round her shoulder to lead her to the vacant table at the back of the bar but she shrugged him away.

‘These people have feelings. Sybil Burton reads these stories. Eddie Fisher reads them. It’s horrible to think you don’t see anything wrong in being a source. It makes me wonder about your morality, to be quite frank.’

Ernesto looked her in the eye. ‘Are you sure you should be talking to me about morality? Aren’t you the one who’s having an affair behind your husband’s back?’

Diana flinched and Ernesto immediately tried to backtrack. ‘I’m sorry,
cara mia.
Forgive me.’

She turned and fled across the street to her
pensione
and up the stairs to her room, Ernesto following right behind her. She lay face down on the bed and he sat beside her. ‘I’m so sorry. I should not have said that. I can’t bear to hurt you. I love you, Diana.’ He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. ‘You mean the world to me.’

She remained face down and he began to stroke her back, just as he had done on the first night they slept together, and spoke to her quietly. ‘I told you how important it is to me that I can earn enough money to support my family. This is just one source of income. I only tell my contact things that are trivial and I didn’t think the tigers story could hurt anyone. I was wrong and I’m sorry.’

She didn’t say anything but let him undress her and make love to her. Afterwards she lay awake for a long time. It was their first argument and also the first time Ernesto had said he loved her. She wished it had been in different circumstances but still the words glowed inside.