IBIZA... the Spanish island... In her memoir, which I thought of as quite intelligent and descriptive, Nina Van Pallandt's descriptions of the island in the Mediterranean in the very early 1960's when she and her husband, Frederik Van Pallandt, bought property there, made me want to go back in time and move there. It's off the beaten path for two entertainers who have traveled for their singing careers, rather rural, and one imagines them settling into a safe and quiet place to raise their children, a respite when they aren't all traveling internationally. It was the end of 1963 when they moved there and the married couple had a toddler and an infant. Another baby would soon be on the way.
page 163 except:
A few weeks after I arrived I was invited on my first outing to explore some caves in the north of the island and later, on the beach, found myself sitting next to an attractive American who had earlier been introduced as a writer, Clifford Irving. My first impression was that, in size, her reminded me of the football players I'd known at the University of Southern California. And, I can't ever recall having see a bigger pair of feet! Clifford, I found, was separated from his third wife, Fay, and with his son in great need of a playmate, asked if I'd bring Nicolas over the next day. I agreed. the next afternoon we drove to his house near Santa Eulalia, but he wasn't there, so page 164 I left the two boys to get acquainted under the care of the housekeeper.
My return trip at dusk, however, produced Clifford, a short chat over a glass of wine on his terrace, and an invitation for dinner the next evening.
We met at Sandy's, one of the island's few bars. Its proprietor had an incredible memory for names and stories and is one of the most amusing, well read people I know.....
We had drinks, chatting with people we knew there, then Clifford suggested we go into Ibiza Town for dinner. In those days, there were few restaurants in Ibiza, and because the only sources of food were island produce and livestock, plus ea-food, of course, the menu offerings and combinations were fairy limited....
page 165 - 166 excerpt:
We are, drank wine and talked and talked and talked. Clifford was the first man in years who had paid me a compliment, not the show-business me but just to me and that certainly registered. Much later, we discussed and laughed over that first date. Nothing was really said - only polite, amusing conversation, but we were both very much aware of each other.
We later went for a stroll on the pier, and Clifford regaled me with stories of the Ibiza he had nown, having first arrived there in 1953. ...
We talked and talked a bit more, then parted. It had been a beautiful, timeless, suspended-in-space evening, one of the nicest I'd spent in years, but as I drove home, I found myself disturbed.
In the days that followed, we saw each other as often as possible: at the beach with our children, and sometimes on our own, at parties given by mutual friends, at dinner a few times and at his studio in Old Town. It was there over late night bottles of wine by candlelight that the conversation changed from the lighthearted and superficial to things philosophical and personal, and failures and dreams gone by. it was if all that had been damned up inside me for years and was suddenly gushing forth like a spring stream swollen by the melting snows. We were unknown entities to each other and, in slowly discovering each other, discovered, ourselves as well, Perhaps I should speak only for myself.
There was something in Clifford that I had never before found in the very few men who had become important in my life. I think it was a blend of the curiosity - American qualities of openness, warmth, and courtesy, of strength and basic optimisms about life which are, perhaps, particularly attractive and intriguing to European women. Clifford gave me an extraordinary feeling of being protected - ironic, I know in retrospect - and yet, that's what I felt.
It was all such a revelation I fell in love. Whether I'd fallen in love with love or was really in love, I didn't know and was greatly upset that things were getting totally beyond my control I felt no guilt, rather a confused sensation of "What am I doing? What's going on?"
With Clifford I discovered and experienced Ibiza in all it's magic 0 that was his fit to me. Our live remained on the airy-fairy level f a glance, a touch, an outstretched hand, a kiss... no more, for ear of breaking the spell. Somehow I'd transferred to him the dream of the island I'd had for Frederik and me.
Two weeks later it was us three - we were at the beach with the children. Glancing up, I spotted Frederik stalking down the sands searching for me. He wasn't due for at least three more weeks... He'd left the boat in Southhampton and taken a plane. In one flash, as on a giant panoramic screen, the present was frozen crystal clear and completely in focus... I couldn't take my sunglasses off as I greeted him... He knew something was wrong, and I told him. It was nothing I had wanted or willed. I loved him. I was in love with Clifford...
Frederik was enraged and at the same time hurt, and his violent reaction surprised me...
(to be continued)
Missy here! Stay with me as we continue to get to know the Nina and Clifford of the early 1960's!
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