The Affair by Gill Paul Read Free Book Online Page A

a helicopter carries a plaster Christ over the rooftops? Who do you think hired the helicopter and oversaw the making of the statue?’
    ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t seen it.’
    ‘But you
must
! I will take you some time. There must be a cinema somewhere that is still showing it and we will go together.’
    Diana began to search her mind for an excuse, but he pre-empted her, holding up his hand.
    ‘Don’t worry. I know you are married. I am not a Casanova type. You and I are going to be good friends, that’s all.’
    She smiled. ‘Excellent. I need some friends out here. I’m going back to my
pensione
now as I’m getting rather tired, but I’ll see you tomorrow.’
    ‘How are you getting home? Let me give you a lift.’ He stood up and pulled a bunch of keys from his pocket.
    ‘I was going to get a taxi. Don’t worry. It’s not far. I’m only in Piazza Repubblica.’
    ‘I wouldn’t dream of letting you take a taxi alone at night. Nice girls would never travel unaccompanied.’
    ‘Oh my gosh!’ Diana exclaimed. ‘Well, in that case …’
    She said her goodbyes to Helen and the other girls, then followed Ernesto out to the street. She’d been expecting a car and was taken aback when he climbed onto a Vespa motor scooter and gestured for her to get on behind. What option did she have, though?
    ‘I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been on one of these.’
    ‘You just climb on and put your arms round my waist. It’s easy.’
    She gathered up her full skirts and straddled the scooter, wondering how on earth other girls managed in those tight short dresses. She placed her hands loosely on the sides of Ernesto’s jacket, but when the scooter started to move, she gripped more firmly. Her skirt billowed out on one side and she tucked it under her thighs. The breeze blew her hair back off her face and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. When she opened them, they were going past a beautiful church.
    She was in Rome, in 1961, riding home on the back of a Vespa. The life she had been waiting to lead felt as though it had finally begun.

Chapter Seven

    Ernesto came to the production office to collect Diana at five to ten the following morning to take her to the script meeting.
    ‘Are you absolutely sure I’m supposed to come along?’ she asked.
    ‘Of course. You must be there. You can actually make a difference at this stage.’
    The director’s office was in a building opposite the main gate. A dozen people were sitting smoking and drinking coffee, among them Walter Wanger, who leapt to his feet and rushed over to embrace Diana.
    ‘Sweetheart, you made it! It’s terrific to see you. Let me introduce you to everybody.’ He went round the room, pointing out John De Cuir, the set designer; Hilary Armitage, the woman she already knew from the production office; Leon Shamroy, the director of photography, whom she recognised as the man in the Hawaiian shirt she had seen on set; as well as some production managers, continuity girls, and various others. Diana desperately tried to remember their names. The door opened and in walked a man with an open, friendly face that seemed familiar. He was smoking a pipe.
    ‘Joe, meet Diana, our new historical advisor,’ Walter called. ‘I asked her along today to see how she can be of use to you.’ This was a lie, of course; Walter hadn’t asked her at all. ‘Diana, this is Joe Mankiewicz.’
    She shook hands with the director and realised she had read an interview with him in the
Sunday Times
; she recalled him from the photograph. He’d struck both her and Trevor as being very bright and articulate.
    ‘Welcome on board,’ Joe said, then sat on the edge of his desk and held out a sheaf of typewritten pages to a girl called Rosemary Matthews, who began to distribute them. ‘Give Diana a copy as well,’ he instructed.
    She liked the smell of his pipe tobacco, which was like new-mown hay compared to the stale harshness of cigarette smoke. Everyone smoked