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By Lauren Bacall for the Daily Mail. When I think now of my hopeless, thrilling, far-from-perfect love affair with Frank Sinatra, I see how impossible it was from the start. It began just weeks after the death of my husband, Humphrey Bogart, in At such an awful time for me, there was no way I could be thinking straight. Even then it might have worked if Frank had been more sure of himself. I do believe it was the first and only time that any woman dumped Frank: he made damn sure that never happened again.
Sinatra and Bacall: The singer dropped Lauren when his marriage proposal was leaked to the press - but Lauren said Frank did her a favour.
Bogie stayed home and went sailing with our son Steve instead. By then, Bogie was very ill with cancer. I needed the noise, the extravagance and general insanity of Las Vegas, the feeling of no responsibility, the feeling that life was being lived. He represented physical health and vitality, and I needed that. Part of me just needed a man to talk to, and Frank turned out to be that man. It simply happened. The first time I went out in public after Bogie died, Frank took me to a cinema in Hollywood, and when we emerged there were photographers waiting.
Those pictures ended up in newspapers around the world. It was the first time Frank and I were linked, even tentatively, in a romantic way. Frank and I became a steady pair. At all his small dinner parties I was the hostess. I sat in on some of his recording dates β I was the centre of his life at that moment.
It seemed to everyone, his friends and mine, that we were crazy about each other. I felt rather girlish and giddy. I had been married to a grown-up. Bogie knew what he wanted; if a woman loved him, he felt stronger rather than threatened. Frank, on the other hand, advanced and then drew back, keeping me off balance. As a couple we were combustible. Always when we entered a room the feeling was: Are they OK tonight? You could almost hear a sigh of relief when we were both smiling and relaxed.