""And then I went to the West Indies to film Island In The Sun and met its stunning star, Harry Belafonte.
He was 31, six foot one, with melting brown eyes, a strong nose and close-cropped black hair. His sexual allure was accentuated by tight trousers and a shirt opened to reveal caramel- coloured skin.
Although we had no scenes together, the all-British crew teased me relentlessly when they noticed how often Belafonte — who was married — threw me suggestive glances.
‘They say his ambition is to make love with as many beautiful women as he can. Better watch out — you’ll be next,’ teased Nick Roeg, the camera operator who later became a distinguished director.
‘No way,’ I said, and meant it. To have any kind of a relationship with a black man in the late Fifties was totally off limits.
But, one night in Grenada, Belafonte and I took a walk along the beach in the moonlight. His husky voice held a hint of forbidden promise.
‘Now, Miss Collins,’ he said, ‘I’m leaving tomorrow, but I’ll be at the Coconut Grove [an LA club] in April — will you come?’
‘Oh yes,’ I said. And I did.
At the Coconut Grove, I watched Belafonte performing calypso songs and jazz. He was mesmerizing, and we soon began an affair, away from prying eyes, in my tiny apartment.
But, after a few exciting liaisons, we knew we had to cool it. He went back to his wife and I moved on. Alas, to another married man.""