wrong.’
Diana glanced over towards Hilary’s desk. It would feel odd to leave Rome without letting Trevor know where she was going. ‘Did the courier arrive from London?’
Hilary pursed her lips sympathetically. ‘Nothing for you. Hasn’t he replied yet?’
Diana shook her head.
‘Call him. Go on, I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.’ She got up and gave Diana a quick pat on the shoulder. ‘Stick to your guns but tell him you miss him. And good luck!’
Diana looked at the clock. Trevor was probably sitting at his desk over lunch. She placed the call through the operator and, almost as soon as it rang, she heard her husband’s voice on the end of the line. His secretary must have gone out.
‘Hello, it’s me. How are you?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I wrote to you. Did you get the letter?’
‘Yes, I got it.’
‘Why haven’t you replied?’ Diana asked.
‘I don’t know what you want me to say. Of course I miss you, but this wasn’t my decision.’ His tone chilled her. Suddenly she felt cross with him for being so unsupportive but she knew that nothing would be resolved if she lost her temper.
‘I’m going to Ischia tomorrow to check the outdoor sets. They’re building boats for the sea battle of Actium.’
‘No doubt that will be educational,’ he commented drily, then added ‘I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to get excited about it from back here in rainy London.’
There was a long pause, then they both began to speak at once – him to say he had a tutorial to prepare and her pleading ‘Don’t shut me out, Trevor. Please come over to Rome, or at least write to me.’
‘Diana, it’s only a few weeks till Christmas. We can talk then. I don’t see any point in coming out beforehand to sit on my thumbs while you prance around with the stars.’
He was immovable. She had no choice but to agree that they would talk on her return. When she came off the phone, she sat for several minutes with her head in her hands. She knew him well enough to sense that, behind the curt tone, he was depressed and lonely. It had been selfish of her to leave him. She couldn’t blame him for his attitude but wished that he would at least support her now she was there. She was having the time of her life, and didn’t for one moment regret the decision she’d made.
Chapter Fifteen
Scott’s editor was pleased with the ostrich feather story but next time, he said, he wanted a picture of Elizabeth Taylor in the dress, and preferably while it was on fire.
‘Rome is crawling with photographers. Surely that’s not too hard to organise?’
Scott went to visit Jacopo Jacopozzi, the amiable chief of Associated Press in Rome. The walls of his office were covered in pictures of popes and presidents, movie stars and politicians.
‘You want it, we got it,’ Jacopozzi told him. ‘I’ve got people covering Elizabeth Taylor from the moment she steps onto her verandah for breakfast until her car takes her home from a restaurant at night. I can get shots from inside the film set, or whichever nightclub she happens to be in. Just say the word.’
‘Did you get the ostrich feather dress?’ Scott asked.
‘Sure,’ he shrugged. He flicked through some files on the desk in front of him and pulled out one that showed Elizabeth Taylor leaving the Grand Hotel in a white dress, with Eddie Fisher by her side. ‘Tazio Secchiaroli himself got this one. You’ve heard of him? He’s our best man. He’s getting more famous than the stars themselves, but he’s not cheap.’
‘How much to use that photo, for example?’
They discussed the rights needed, the print run, the size at which it would be used, and when Jacopozzi was finally pinned down to a price, Scott whistled in astonishment.
‘That much? I’ve got a budget less than a tenth of that.’ He named his figure.
‘It can’t be done, my friend. My photographers are bleeding me dry and I have a family to feed.’ The expensive clothes and swanky
Diana glanced over towards Hilary’s desk. It would feel odd to leave Rome without letting Trevor know where she was going. ‘Did the courier arrive from London?’
Hilary pursed her lips sympathetically. ‘Nothing for you. Hasn’t he replied yet?’
Diana shook her head.
‘Call him. Go on, I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.’ She got up and gave Diana a quick pat on the shoulder. ‘Stick to your guns but tell him you miss him. And good luck!’
Diana looked at the clock. Trevor was probably sitting at his desk over lunch. She placed the call through the operator and, almost as soon as it rang, she heard her husband’s voice on the end of the line. His secretary must have gone out.
‘Hello, it’s me. How are you?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I wrote to you. Did you get the letter?’
‘Yes, I got it.’
‘Why haven’t you replied?’ Diana asked.
‘I don’t know what you want me to say. Of course I miss you, but this wasn’t my decision.’ His tone chilled her. Suddenly she felt cross with him for being so unsupportive but she knew that nothing would be resolved if she lost her temper.
‘I’m going to Ischia tomorrow to check the outdoor sets. They’re building boats for the sea battle of Actium.’
‘No doubt that will be educational,’ he commented drily, then added ‘I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to get excited about it from back here in rainy London.’
There was a long pause, then they both began to speak at once – him to say he had a tutorial to prepare and her pleading ‘Don’t shut me out, Trevor. Please come over to Rome, or at least write to me.’
‘Diana, it’s only a few weeks till Christmas. We can talk then. I don’t see any point in coming out beforehand to sit on my thumbs while you prance around with the stars.’
He was immovable. She had no choice but to agree that they would talk on her return. When she came off the phone, she sat for several minutes with her head in her hands. She knew him well enough to sense that, behind the curt tone, he was depressed and lonely. It had been selfish of her to leave him. She couldn’t blame him for his attitude but wished that he would at least support her now she was there. She was having the time of her life, and didn’t for one moment regret the decision she’d made.
Chapter Fifteen
Scott’s editor was pleased with the ostrich feather story but next time, he said, he wanted a picture of Elizabeth Taylor in the dress, and preferably while it was on fire.
‘Rome is crawling with photographers. Surely that’s not too hard to organise?’
Scott went to visit Jacopo Jacopozzi, the amiable chief of Associated Press in Rome. The walls of his office were covered in pictures of popes and presidents, movie stars and politicians.
‘You want it, we got it,’ Jacopozzi told him. ‘I’ve got people covering Elizabeth Taylor from the moment she steps onto her verandah for breakfast until her car takes her home from a restaurant at night. I can get shots from inside the film set, or whichever nightclub she happens to be in. Just say the word.’
‘Did you get the ostrich feather dress?’ Scott asked.
‘Sure,’ he shrugged. He flicked through some files on the desk in front of him and pulled out one that showed Elizabeth Taylor leaving the Grand Hotel in a white dress, with Eddie Fisher by her side. ‘Tazio Secchiaroli himself got this one. You’ve heard of him? He’s our best man. He’s getting more famous than the stars themselves, but he’s not cheap.’
‘How much to use that photo, for example?’
They discussed the rights needed, the print run, the size at which it would be used, and when Jacopozzi was finally pinned down to a price, Scott whistled in astonishment.
‘That much? I’ve got a budget less than a tenth of that.’ He named his figure.
‘It can’t be done, my friend. My photographers are bleeding me dry and I have a family to feed.’ The expensive clothes and swanky
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