Ever didn’t move, he was struggling through his drowsiness to stay awake. It was like driving a car in the rain at night: forcing his eyes to stay open and losing the fight.

‘It was after six months of marriage, when Roberto raped his underboss’s wife. I am not in any way condoning his action, but you can imagine sex was not a favourite pastime of mine. But you see I was not capable of being with him; he had done it all for me, done it, but it was an act of cruel insanity and who wants to be with that, that is what you live with. Nothing else, you are alone for all time if you do that.’

She decided to lighten her story as she was most definitely losing him to sleep and introversion.

‘My name in the film, by the way, my credit, if you could call it that, was the name Sunny Rose Ray, funny eh? No sun was shining that day or ever again for Sunny Rose Ray. Are you with my story?’

There was no reply. She continued regardless. Sunny Rose Ray, the name, had dropped him off into, maybe, a happy doze. No rain now at least.

‘Anyways the underboss, Diego Vialli, as a result of the rape, shot his wife and then himself. After that my husband, God I can’t believe I called him that, I’ve erased that connection for so long, strange feeling, anyway his leadership of the mob was questioned, they had lost confidence in him, and the police got hold of him and for two years they had him in court for everything they could think of, but in the end, in 1970, the only thing they managed to pin on him was that he was an illegal immigrant and he was deported back to Italy.’

Lomita was now surveying the room while talking, as if she might never see it again. With a disbelief, probably, that she had come this far.

‘He had enormous difficulty, as you can imagine, getting any of his money out of the US and during the trials we were transporting the money, can you believe it, all of it in about eighteen trips to our house in Palm Springs. He buried it in a vault that he and my second husband-to-be – he was the accountant – had built underneath the terrace. When Roberto got back to Italy, obviously with the intention of returning eventually, to claim the money, he was shot by Vialli’s family. And yes, you’ve guessed it.’

Ever was fading from exhaustion and showed no reaction to the statement. He was not capable of taking in any more. He was asleep.

‘I was left with all that money. Twenty million dollars. Which was why I remarried.’

Lomita looked into the middle distance and with the option of stopping, carried on, talking to herself.