King Arthur to Julie Andrews’ Guinevere. He was a renowned womaniser who was said to have had affairs with Claire Bloom, Lana Turner, Angie Dickinson and Jean Simmons (while she had been married to his friend Stewart Granger). Sybil, his wife of twelve years, normally turned a blind eye.
‘In fact,’ Scott finished, ‘rumour has it that the only one of his leading ladies he hasn’t had an affair with was Julie Andrews – because he was already shacked up with an exotic dancer called Pat Tunder.’
Cheap it certainly was, but Scott found this kind of journalism couldn’t be simpler to write, and Gianni promised to give him tip-offs about any stories from the film set doing the rounds in Rome. It would buy him time to pursue his own story – the one he was determined to write about the Ghianciaminas, the family who appeared to be above the law.
Ernesto proved an entertaining companion on the trip to Ischia, pointing out landmarks they passed on the train to Naples and then on the hydrofoil across the bay. It was evening when they arrived, but early next morning they drove to the boatyard where the battleships were being constructed and Diana leapt out of the car in her eagerness to have a look. Brilliant sunshine lit the bay, where rocky cliffs descended to coarse bronze sand. Working fishermen plied their trade just along from the set on which a fleet of ancient craft had been constructed. Some were converted fishing boats that would sail on the water, while others were one-sided, to be held in place for camera.
‘Buongiorno, che piacere vederla,’ one of the boatbuilders said – ‘nice to see you’ – and they all came over to shake her hand. She soon realised these were proud, perfectionist craftsmen who were keen to hear her views on their work, and when she suggested a slight change in the decorative carvings at the prows, they assured her it would be done. They demonstrated how the barrage of stones and blazing javelins would be fired during the sea battle, showed her the spikes that would protrude from the front of the ships and mimed the way they would ram each other.
Next she went to see Cleopatra’s barge, the Antonia, which would be filmed arriving at Tarsus, where she went to meet Mark Antony. The interior scenes would be shot in the studio at Cinecittà but there was a spectacular outdoor scene planned as the barge pulled up in Tarsus with Cleopatra watching from beneath a gold canopy. The basic hull of the ship was ready, and its huge size and curved shape were accurately reproduced. Diana drew a sketch of the rigging, and told them that the sails should be purple, and they nodded, because they already knew. It was an exciting day, when she felt useful and appreciated.
At dinner that evening, Ernesto ordered a bottle of wine and as she finished her first glass, Diana realised she was more relaxed than she had been for a while – certainly since arriving in Italy. The rift with Trevor was on her mind, and towards the bottom of her second glass she found herself telling Ernesto about it. She felt disloyal but he proved a good listener.
‘Do your family like Trevor?’ he asked.
‘I don’t really have a family,’ she told him. ‘My mother died of cancer when I was three, so I only remember her through photos. Then my dad died of a heart attack when I was nineteen.’ There was an unexpected catch in her throat as she said the words. ‘I’ve got an aunt and uncle in Scotland, and a couple of young cousins, but I don’t see much of them. Trevor’s my family now.’
‘What age were you when you met Trevor?’
‘Nineteen. He was one of my college tutors when my dad died. He was really supportive, then gradually we fell in love.’
‘He is older than you?’
‘Yes, eighteen years …’ She could see how it must look to him: as if Trevor had become a father substitute. She’d wondered about that herself sometimes. Certainly, she’d felt very scared and isolated when she was orphaned, and Trevor made her feel safe and connected to the world again. That might have been part of the attraction but it wasn’t by any means the whole story. They’d become good friends as well as lovers. They discussed everything. That’s why the current lack of communication felt so horrible, as though a part of her had been amputated.
Ernesto put a comforting hand on her knee. ‘I’m sorry you’re lonely,’ he said, his eyes full of kindness.
She moved her knee so he had to shift his hand. ‘What about you? You haven’t mentioned your family. I presume you are married?’
‘No,’ he shook his head sadly. ‘But I have a huge family, with so many cousins that I can never remember all their names.’
‘I’m surprised!’ she said. ‘Surely most Italian men are married by your age? I don’t mean …’ In her wine-befuddled head, she realised that sounded rude.
‘I’m not yet thirty,’ he told her. ‘But I am very cautious with women. There was a girl I was in love with for many years. We were at school together, we became girlfriend and boyfriend in our twenties and I always thought we would be married, until I found she had been betraying me.’
‘Oh no! How did you find out?’
‘One day she told me she was marrying someone else, a man who is much wealthier than me. They even invited me to the wedding but I didn’t go. My heart was broken in pieces.’ He held his hands over the spot.
‘Was that recently?’
‘Four years ago, but since then … I don’t know. I am a cynic. I think I need to work hard and make lots of money and then I can choose the woman I want and she will say yes.’
‘We’re not all motivated by money,’ Diana protested. ‘You’ve just had bad luck.’
‘I think I am too soft when I give my heart. I should have realised what was going on with my girlfriend but every time she cancelled a date I forgave her. I never suspected a thing. I don’t think I will ever fall in love like that again.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ Diana smiled. ‘We humans always heal eventually.’ But then she thought of Cleopatra, the queen who gambled everything she possessed, and Mark Antony, the man who lost the sea battle of Actium and eventually his life because of his liaison with her. There had been no healing there.
They talked of affairs on the set and Diana asked, ‘Did you hear some of the extras have complained to Hilary about men groping them?’
Ernesto twinkled. ‘What do they expect when they are wearing next to nothing? We Italian men are very red-blooded.’
‘I’m insulted!’ Diana exclaimed in mock protest. ‘I’ve been in Rome for two months and I haven’t so much as had my bottom pinched. Maybe I am too old for those lotharios. They prefer the lithe young actresses.’ She meant it as a joke, but it reflected her feeling that she was less attractive, less hip than the other girls on the film.
Later that evening, as they walked up to their rooms, Ernesto grabbed her bottom in both hands and squeezed hard. She jumped in surprise and turned to rebuke him, but he gave her a broad wink. ‘Does that make you feel better?’ he asked.
Over the next few days the colour flooded her cheeks every time she thought of it.
