with blankets and quilts. The room was long and had thin tall windows along the top of the walls. Running across the centre was a table, similar to one in a royal dining room, but this had Tiffany lamps on it for the readers who sat at it, poring over whatever tome they were interested in. Wooden ladders on wheels leaned against brass rods that ran around the walls of the room to enable its climbers to visit the highest realms of knowledge. Sapphira looked up at the ceiling, which was covered in a painting of the nine muses dancing under the moonlight. A bit racy for the old monks, she thought, noticing the exposed breasts of some of the dancers.
A small, single-arched doorway seemed almost hidden among the books and wooden panelled walls. Sapphira walked over and discovered an exquisite small bathroom, with a shower and walls of azure mosaic tiles. This is perfect, she thought. I can live in here, surrounded by books and I will have no one looking in on me!
She had found her secret hiding place. Her dream come true. She used to hide in the tower of her father’s house when he had his infamous parties, escaping the noise and the endless parade of people who used her father for drugs. The hidden library made her feel safe. It was comforting to be surrounded by all the knowledge. She wished she had more schooling, even though she knew she was smarter than most actresses around her. She could learn anything if she was shown a few times, she thought defiantly.
Looking at the many books, she was pleased to see some were in English, and she clapped her hands in joy and ran out along the hallway and dragged her bags into the room. Scrabbling through a suitcase, she found her iPod and Bose portable speakers. Plugging them in, Billie Holiday filled the room singing ‘Strange Fruit’ and Sapphira sang along.
Looking around the library, her eyes searched out the perfect hiding spot. Crawling under the long table with the Comme des Garçons zippered purse, she felt along the underside and sought out the ledge she instinctively knew was there. Placing the purse on it, she clambered out and stood in the centre of the room. She was safe.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sometimes film sets can be magical places. When everyone comes together with the same goal, and egos stay off the set, great films are made.
TG thought that hosting a dinner at his villa with the female actors in attendance would create a connection between everyone. Giulia, his Italian assistant, had been working for the last two weeks with Italy’s premier party planner to create the perfect welcoming event. Lanterns had been strung across the vast courtyard in the centre of the villa. Candles were all around the outside, giving the place a ceremonial feel. There were two long tables running down the centre to seat the sixty guests and armfuls of sunflowers had been placed in tall vases with lengths of grapevine laced between every place setting. The soft orange linens lay on the table with an array of glasses in different sizes and shapes.
Local chefs were to provide a Tuscan feast for the crew. When asking for the dietary requirements of the leading stars, Giulia was relieved to find that there were not too many quirks to cope with. Calypso was a vegetarian, so Giulia ensured that there were delectable pastas that would appeal to her as well as salads and breads. The thought quickly passed through her mind that maybe this American actress was ‘carbophobic’, but she pushed it away again. Who doesn’t love pasta, she mused as she moved the chairs around the tables.
Upstairs, TG was being interviewed on the phone by a Variety reporter about The Italian Dream.
‘Tell me about the film, it seems very different than your other films, more of a chick flick,’ said the reporter.
‘I don’t know about that,’ said TG, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice. Why wouldn’t Hollywood ever allow you to change, he wondered. ‘But, yeah, it is, very different,’ said TG. ‘It’s a story about three women in Italy all at a crisis in their life. Sapphira De Mont plays the role of the woman mourning the loss of her husband and trying to renovate a villa so she can sell it to return to the US. Rose Nightingale’s character plays a woman discovering herself after leaving her husband who cheated on her and Calypso Gable is a young backpacker who finds love in Italy. It’s an ensemble piece and I’m really excited about working with such great women,’ said TG. He was actually terrified of fucking it up but he didn’t say such a thing. Variety wanted to hear about the biggest film to be released next year, destined to be a critical and commercial success, provided TG could pull it off.
‘Your last film had the most expensive car chase ever filmed. How are you going to go from filming such high-impact scenes to filming women talking about their feelings?’ laughed the reporter.
TG paused. He asked himself the same thing every night since he had agreed to direct the film. ‘Telling the story is what I do. So whether it’s a car chase or an interchange between two actors, I do my best to get the story across.’
As the interview finished, TG hung up the phone and ran his hands through his hair and walked over to the large window in the study, staring at the amazing view in front of him. The hills of Umbria rolled out in front of him, the violet skies signalled twilight and TG knew the party was soon to start. He sent a small wish out as he saw the first star start to twinkle. Please let the shoot go well, he thought and laughed to himself, wondering what the Variety reporter would think of him, if he knew he was wishing on a star.
TG walked downstairs and looked at the party Giulia and her party planner had organized. It was a sight to behold: the lanterns and candles were lit, citronella was in the air and, as dusk fell, the courtyard was heavy with atmosphere and romance. The waiters stood by waiting for guests and ready to ply them with Prosecco and wine. The chefs were busy in the huge kitchen, applying the finishing touches to the feast. All they needed now were the guests.
The lower members of the crew arrived first, then the producers and finally the stars. Calypso arrived, always punctual, as taught by Leeza. She glowed in the courtyard like a firefly, stunning in a One Vintage gold lamé dress from the 1920s that had been reworked for her. The beaded appliqué around the low neckline shimmered and a tulle detail around the skirt edged up over one side to reveal just the right amount of thigh. Worn with a pair of patent leather Christian Louboutin black slingbacks and her new evening bag from the Perugia flea market, Calypso shone in the dark. Gratefully accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter, she took a sip to relieve her nerves.
The start of any job, big or small, made her nervous. Self-doubt and worry stayed with her till her director made her comfortable. Working with TG, she hoped, would be easy and he would be helpful. Calypso relied heavily on her director for both moral and directorial support. While she was a good actor, with sound comedic timing reminiscent of a young Ginger Rogers, she lacked the self-confidence and maturity to truly explore the options for the character. The last film she had done had really just required her to say her lines, look gorgeous and do her perfect laugh several times – the laugh which made audiences fall in love with her. This shoot was going to be different; she was really going to have to act, particularly in the scenes with Sapphira and Rose. Christ, she thought, I hope I can cut it.
She felt a little sick. Looking around for a familiar face, she spotted Kelly talking to two men, with their backs to Calypso. She walked over towards them, aware all eyes in the room were on her, except for TG in a navy blue velvet jacket and worn jeans laughing with Kelly. He whispered something in Kelly’s ear and she looked over to Calypso and smiled, waving her over.
‘Hi, doll, you look divine. God, what a dress! Calypso, this is my husband Chris, who is also the DOP. And I presume you already know TG,’ she said warmly, motioning towards the man in the blue jacket.
TG turned and looked at Calypso. Jesus fucking Christ, he thought, she is stunning. When
