Diana felt numb as she was driven back to Regina Coeli prison after the hearing. A year of her life might be spent there – more if she was found guilty at trial. Perhaps she would never leave the Mantellate wing’s yellow walls again.
The guard met her at the entrance and told her he was taking her to a different cell.
‘Why am I moving?’
‘You’ll share a cell now.’
‘With another prisoner?’ Stupid question: of course it would be. Oh God, what kind of person would it be? They wouldn’t put her in with anyone violent, would they?
She was led to her original cell first, where she gathered her books, clothes and toiletries, then they continued up two flights of stairs. Noises echoed through the stairwells: footsteps on ancient stone, voices calling and strange unidentifiable clankings. The high ceilings amplified every footfall.
The warden took her along a corridor and unlocked the door of a cell. Inside Diana saw a woman of roughly her own age sitting on a narrow bed. There was an empty bed along the other wall. The woman looked up at her with suspicion, taking in her pale skin and mousy-brown hair.
‘Parli italiano?’ she asked.
‘Sì.’
‘Quello è il tuo letto là.’ She pointed to the other bed.
Diana sat down on it, and the warden locked the door behind her. ‘My name’s Diana. I’m English,’ she said in Italian.
‘Donatella.’ She had thick dark hair that hung below her breasts, and manly features. ‘What are you in for?’
Diana explained that she had been accused of murdering a friend but that it wasn’t true. ‘And you?’ she asked.
‘Pah!’ The woman spat in disgust. ‘Theft. From my own brother-in-law, the son of a whore.’
She launched into a long explanation, gesticulating wildly to stress the crucial points, almost as if she were signing for a deaf person. Her husband died two years ago, she said, leaving her with no income and three children to feed. Her brother-in-law was rich, with a string of shops, and she asked if he could help. He gave her a job in one of his stores but paid her only a pittance and she got behind on the rent. There was nothing else she could do but slip a few hundred lire from the till every now and then. She had no choice. But her brother-in-law had set a trap for her by marking some notes. ‘I took one – that’s all. One hundred thousand lire! He called the police and they searched my bag and then I was arrested.’
‘How could he?’ Diana gasped. It was roughly fifty-seven pounds’ worth, not a huge sum for a family member to take. ‘Your children’s uncle did that to you?’
Donatella shrugged dramatically. ‘He’s a bastard. When I see him I will scratch his eyes out, so help me.’ Her face hardened and Diana thought she looked easily capable of it.
‘So tell me your story,’ Donatella challenged. ‘If you are innocent, why are you here?’
Diana explained about the circumstances surrounding her arrest, and her suspicion that a drug dealer was the real culprit. Donatella made a face. ‘That’s a problem. The big dealers don’t tend to get convicted. But if you work for the film studios, get them to buy you a fancy lawyer and you should get off. Hey, did you know that if you have money, you can pay for a cell of your own and extra food here?’
‘Can you?’ She vaguely remembered Signor Esposito mentioning it but she had been so sure she’d get out today that she hadn’t paid much attention. ‘I’ve been in a cell on my own for two days and I think I’d rather have company – if you don’t mind, that is. But I’ll ask about getting extra food. Maybe we could share it.’
‘Good idea.’ Donatella grinned, and Diana saw that one of her front teeth was missing. ‘So have you met La Taylor?’
‘Yes, of course!’ Diana told her about working on the film, and the obsessive character of its star. She saw no need for discretion in the present circumstances, so she described the way Elizabeth pursued Richard relentlessly yet still he kept returning to his wife. ‘You’d think she could get any man she wanted but she may have set her sights on the one man who will reject her in the end. Isn’t it strange how some women do that?’
‘I’m the same. Why do we fall for the bad guys every time?’ Donatella rolled her eyes. She had a million questions about the stars of the film and the time passed. A meal was brought and then they were allowed out of their cells for an hour’s recreation. Donatella introduced Diana to a crowd of other women and she found herself the centre of attention as she described life on the film set and the peccadilloes of its international stars.
‘What time is visiting hour?’ she asked Donatella. ‘I hope my husband will come to see me.’
‘It’s just after lunch. You’ve missed it for today,’ came the reply, and Diana’s face fell. ‘But you can phone him if you have gettoni for the telephone.’
Diana nearly burst into tears. ‘I have gettoni but the phone’s out of order at the pensione so there’s no way of contacting him.’ She was miserable when she thought of Trevor hearing that he wasn’t allowed to visit her that day. Maybe he would come to the jail only to be told at the gates. She wished she could get word to him that she was fine. She couldn’t bear to think of what this must be doing to him. He had looked thin and tired before and now he must be beside himself with worry.
Back in the cell, while Donatella washed herself, Diana lay on her bed feeling crushed by misery. She’d been so happy. She loved the job. She loved living in Rome. She loved her friendship with Helen. For a while she had thought she loved Ernesto. Now they had all been taken away from her. Even if she were released from prison, life could never be the same again.