People envied her English garden, and lawns, her tennis court and cricket pitch; considered the house itself, tucked away behind flowering shrubs and trees, to be enchanting. It had a reputation for being very private and off bounds as a party place. Ira had bought her the house, which had been extraordinarily expensive. He had insisted upon her accepting it as a gift. ‘An expression of love,’ he had told her. ‘In admiration of your beauty, your unique talent as a great actress, and because I want you always to be living well and close to me.’ The house had five bedrooms and baths, a large kitchen, a long rambling drawing room with French doors that led on to the terrace and garden, a swimming pool and walled kitchen garden. The dining room had been turned into a library but was still used on the rare occasions when Diana did entertain. One of the bedrooms had been turned into a gym, another given over to Keoki. A third, her own, was enormous and overlooked the pool and gardens that rambled charmingly away from the house, to walks through rose arbours and to a folly.
