Hester's Story

by Adle Geras

  ‘They’re not, though,’ said Dinah. ‘They’re not in the least uncomfortable. Just a little shabby. The place isn’t dirty or flea-ridden or anything.’

  Hester didn’t answer, but went on eating her ice-cream. She’d stood in the stalls on the day Piers first showed her round and dreamed of a time when the curtain would open and there she would be, up on the stage, dancing. Nell and Dinah had moved on to talk about the prima ballerina of the company; the same Estelle whose presence had meant that her own name had been changed. This Estelle’s surname was Delamere but no one called her anything but Madame P when she was out of earshot.

  ‘What’s the P for?’ Hester asked Dinah, wondering why she’d never thought of asking before. They’d all had so many other things to talk about that this question had only just occurred to her.

  ‘You can take your pick really,’ Dinah answered. ‘Pompous, Poisonous, Posh. Any and all of those will do. She’s awful and we all hate her.’

  ‘Piers too?’

  ‘Probably. Only he won’t tell her so as long as she’s dancing up to standard. She is rather good, actually, but I don’t like her style. Cold, I think she is. You can admire her but never love her, d’you know what I mean?’

  Hester nodded, though she wasn’t quite sure if she did.

  ‘I think she’s ridiculous,’ said Nell. ‘She’s over thirty, for heaven’s sake! She must know that there’s going to be a time when she can’t perform as anything more than a character dancer. Surely she can see her days as a prima ballerina are numbered?’

  ‘No, she can’t,’ Dinah said. ‘You never do know things like that when it’s you. You kid yourself that everything’s just the same as it always was. It’s only the rest of us who can hear the creaking joints during class.’

  They laughed, and then left the golden light and warmth of Lyons and made their way to the Underground with their arms linked.

  ‘Another deliciously comfortable night in the Attic de Luxe awaits us!’ said Nell.

  ‘Can’t wait,’ Dinah added, ‘to sink into my feather bed.’

  *

  Hester, Dinah and Nell didn’t really mind how shabby the Attic de Luxe was because they were hardly ever there. They spent most of their time in the rehearsal room round the corner from the theatre, in a dusty hall attached to a church. The room was draughty, high-ceilinged and chilly even in the warmest weather and freezing cold in winter. But Hester hardly noticed the temperature because she worked so hard there, month after month. Piers was not a bit like Father Christmas when he was taking class or going through routines during a rehearsal period.

  ‘I’d appreciate your full attention, Hester,’ he’d almost shouted at her once when she’d been daydreaming. She blushed. It wasn’t like her to lose concentration, but Piers missed nothing and was often quite fierce with dancers whom he suspected of not attending properly to his instructions. When he was cross with anyone, his face became bright red and he looked as though he might begin to breathe out fire, just like a dragon. One cold morning, when they’d all overslept, Dinah looked at Nell and shook her head.

  ‘You can’t go to rehearsal, you know.’ She was dragging a brush through her long, fair hair and twisting it up into a knot, anchored with pins. ‘You’re sick. You’ve got an awful cough and all you’ll do by coming to rehearsal is spread your ghastly cold through the whole company. Piers’ll be hopping mad. Nutcracker opens next Thursday, remember? At this rate, all the mice and all the flowers will be hacking away in the wings so that you won’t be able to hear the music.’

  ‘Shut up, Dinah,’ said Nell. ‘I’m going. All I need is for Piers to give my part to Simone. She’s been eyeing it from the start. This is my very first solo and I’m certainly not going to let a little cough stop me. I’ve got some lozenges somewhere.’

  Nell reminded Hester of a deer, her head often tilted to one side as she looked at you. She wasn’t exactly pretty, but her face was very expressive. She laughed a lot, but today, Hester noticed, she had dark shadows under her eyes, her skin was pale and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Hester felt for her. She looked dreadfully ill.

  ‘Lozenges aren’t going to help you,’ Dinah continued. ‘You just wait. Piers will be on to you at once.’

  *

  Hester watched anxiously to see what Piers would say when he saw Nell. The girls were standing in rows and Nell was right at the front. Hester couldn’t see her face, but Piers had begun to frown and sigh a little, always a bad sign. When Piers sighed you knew that meant trouble. Nell started coughing and spluttering and Piers waved a hand to stop the session.

  ‘Nell Osborne, come here,’ he said. Nell stepped forward and hung her head. Hester thought with relief for a moment that he was going to be kind to her. He was going to ask her if she was all right, and maybe tell her to go and get a drink and sit down till she felt better. When he started to speak, his words at first seemed quite quiet. It was only as he went on that the terrifying crescendo crept into his voice:

  ‘You’re not well, Nell, are you? No, you’re not. I can see it.’ He put his hand out and touched her on the forehead. ‘You’ve got a temperature. It’s obvious to anyone looking at you that you should have stayed in bed.’ His voice grew louder, crosser. ‘Not, however, obvious to you, you silly child. Don’t you understand that by coming here into this rehearsal room you’re endangering all the rest of us – your friends, the production, me, everything we’ve worked for for weeks. Your stupidity beggars belief. You must go. Now! Go to bed and stay there.’

  By the time he’d finished, Nell had tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘Stop crying this instant!’ said Piers. ‘Can’t you see I’m worried about you?’ He glanced around the room. ‘Dinah, Hester, take this shivering wreck and put her to bed at once. Then go to my house … do you know where it is? Good. Go and tell my housekeeper to take some food and comfort to this poor invalid and then come straight back here. Ruby’ll know what to do. She’s used to looking after sick kids. On second thoughts, go to my house on the way to Moscow Road. That’s more sensible. Off you go.’

  The girls walked through the wintry streets in the freezing wind, and round the corner to Piers’ house.

  ‘God, what ghastly weather,’ Dinah said. ‘We’ll all get pneumonia, I bet. Thank heavens Piers lives within spitting distance of the theatre.’ She and Hester were on either side of the still weeping Nell, helping her along.

  ‘I’m not going to be well for the show,’ she wailed. ‘And I might have spoiled the whole thing for everyone. Piers’ll never forgive me.’

  ‘Of course he will,’ Dinah said. ‘He huffs and puffs but he’s got a good heart under it all. You can see that. He’s going to send his own housekeeper to look after you. It’s just that when he’s being a choreographer, he sort of becomes someone else. Like a Jekyll and Hyde sort of thing.’

  ‘Here it is,’ Hester said. She left Nell leaning entirely on Dinah and went up to the front door to ring the bell.

  ‘What if this Ruby person is out?’ Dinah asked. ‘What do we do then?’

  ‘You can go back to rehearsal and I’ll stay and look after Nell.’

  The door opened and a tall young woman stood there, dressed in a tweed skirt and a white blouse. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and Hester was struck by something in her eyes that immediately made her feel better – a sense of calm and kindness, as though she were ready to face anything.

  ‘Can I help you?’ she began, and then caught sight of Nell. ‘Oh, my goodness, bring that poor child in here.’

  ‘Are you Ruby?’ Dinah asked.

  ‘That’s right,’ the young woman said. ‘I’m Mr Cranley’s housekeeper.’

  ‘Piers asked us to take our friend home. To 24 Moscow Road. But he said would you please bring round some food and stay with her till she’s better.’

  ‘Of course, of course. Come in. Put her down on the sofa in the front room and wait with her. I’ll get my things.’ She turned to Hester.
‘Perhaps we could all go together? Then you can help me carry some food, if you would. I’ll get a basket ready.’

  Dinah and Hester went into the front room and helped Nell lie down on the sofa. It was the first time since Hester had left France and the warmth of her grandmother’s sitting room that she’d been in a room that could have been called properly comfortable. Even Madame Olga’s rooms in Wychwood House were frequently cold and the furnishings had seen better days. In Piers’ sitting room the walls were papered with a trailing pattern of leaves and berries; the curtains were coppery-red brocade. The lamp standing on a table beside the sofa had a shade made out of stained glass. Hester stared at it, entranced – she thought it was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

  ‘He doesn’t exactly go short of anything, does he?’ Dinah remarked as she laid Nell on the sofa, making sure that her shoes didn’t touch the upholstery. ‘Us up in the Attic de Luxe and him here in all this. He must be rolling in money.’

  Hester hardly heard what she was saying. She was gazing at the gilded clock on the sideboard, at the gorgeously coloured rugs on the carpeted floor (rugs on top of carpet, the height of luxury!), at the engraved invitations propped up against the ornaments on the mantelpiece, and thinking how wonderful it must be to sit in here with the lamp lit and bask in the firelight. There was no fire in the hearth at the moment, but she could imagine just what it would be like.

  ‘Here I am,’ said Ruby, coming into the room with baskets hanging from each arm. ‘If you could take this, please?’ She smiled at Hester. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know any of your names.’

  ‘I’m Hester Fielding,’ Hester said, taking one of the baskets from Ruby. ‘And that’s Dinah Rowland. Nell Osborne is the one who’s ill.’

  Ruby smiled and nodded. Hester didn’t notice as it actually happened, but remembering it a short time later, she realised that as Ruby looked into her eyes for the first time, she’d known at once that here was someone she could trust.

  *

  Ruby came to the Attic de Luxe every day while Nell was ill. She sat with her while Hester and Dinah were at lessons or at rehearsal and then she went back to cook for Piers. She didn’t speak a great deal and Hester thought she was pleasant, but rather quiet. She didn’t tell them much, but Hester knew she was Scottish from her accent. She had four brothers and sisters and told Hester once that she sent almost all her wages home to her mother, to help her.

  ‘Are you happy to live in London, so far away from them?’ Hester asked her.

  Ruby smiled at Hester and thought for a moment before she answered. ‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘I’m happy to be away from all that fuss, but sometimes I do miss them. Yes, sometimes I miss them dreadfully.’

  After three days in bed, Nell was almost herself.

  ‘I’ll be going back to rehearsal tomorrow, Ruby,’ she said. She was lying on her bed looking quite different from the invalid who’d been sent home only days ago. ‘I feel much better. It’s thanks to you looking after me. And all the lovely food.’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘You’d have got better whatever I did, I expect. You’re young and healthy.’

  ‘But it’s much more fun being ill when there’s someone to chat to and take care of you,’ said Dinah. ‘I think it’s jolly nice of you, Ruby.’

  Ruby said nothing, but went on working at her tapestry. Hester had noticed that she always had something to sew or stitch when she came to Moscow Road. One whole afternoon she’d spent darning the holes in their tights to such perfection that Dinah exclaimed, ‘Your darns are beautiful, Ruby! They make the undarned bits of the tights look awful. How d’you do it? I’d never have the patience.’

  Once Ruby had left them, Hester, Dinah and Nell gossiped about her.

  ‘Is she pretty?’ Nell wondered. ‘I can never decide. Sometimes she looks quite plain.’

  ‘She doesn’t make enough of herself,’ Dinah said. She was a great believer in enhancing what Nature had given you, and was forever trying to rouge Hester’s pale cheeks or put curlers into her hair. ‘I wonder if she’s sleeping with Piers.’

  ‘No!’ Nell and Hester exclaimed together. Sex was something that Hester had known a little about for a long time, but the details of what went on between men and women, and also between men and men sometimes, she learned about from Dinah and Nell. It was a topic of endless fascination and they often discussed it as they lay in the Attic de Luxe with the lights out. It was easier to be frank when it was dark. At first, Hester had hardly believed what she was being told, but she was used to it all now and their talk was much less inhibited. Nell went on, ‘No, never. I’m sure Piers prefers men. Aren’t you? I mean, what about Anton and Miles and Jeremy? Don’t you think he’d prefer them?’ The girls dissolved into giggles again. Homosexuality was against the law, of course, but everyone in the company knew about these three men. Dancers, in any case, according to Dinah, were always assumed by the general public to be queer, whether they were or not. The truth of the matter was some were and some weren’t and Hester was curious about it – and when she thought about it, didn’t quite know what she thought about it.

  *

  ‘Will you be all right?’ Hester whispered to Nell.

  They were in the dressing room at the Royalty Theatre, getting ready for Nutcracker. Hester was one of the children in the party scene at the beginning and one of the flowers later on, when Clara visits the Land of the Sweets. She was so excited before this very first appearance on stage that she could hardly put her lipstick on without her hand shaking. She’d thought about inviting Madame Olga to see the show and discussed with Dinah and Nell whether it was worth her while to come all the way to London just to see her running across the stage with a crowd of other people, and they decided it wasn’t. Still, Hester found it so hard to write that particular letter. In the end she was honest. She wrote, I’d love you to come and see me dance for the first time, but it’s a very long way for such unimportant parts, so perhaps you’d better wait till I’m doing a solo. Piers says it won’t be so long now …

  Nell had a short solo in the ballet. She was one of the Oriental dancers in the Land of Sweets scene. Madame P was to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy.

  It seemed to Hester that Nell was unusually quiet. They’d all come early to get ready. Piers was insistent that no one should be rushed, no one should panic at the last moment and so, by the time the curtain was ready to go up and the overture was coming over the Tannoy, everyone had been ready for hours. Hester had asked Nell whether she was all right but got no reply. Now she asked again. Nell just nodded and then there was no time for any more conversation. They were on stage. The Christmas tree stood in the corner, heavy with gold and red decorations that shone under the stage lights, and they were transported to Clara’s house, where they danced about, waiting for Dr Drosselmeyer to appear.

  This part, which didn’t require anything too much in the way of suppleness from the person who performed it, was traditionally taken by Piers.

  He was dressed entirely in black when he appeared on the stage, and Hester was surprised by how frightening he looked. He wore a black suit and had blackened his beard as well and added a tall black hat. You could hear the children in the audience gasp when he made his entrance, and when he exited the applause went on and on.

  Children from a local school were playing the mice. They were gathered in the wings and did a lot of squeaking. Dinah said they’d been chosen because they were so good at it. Piers tried his best to stop them giggling and squealing.

  ‘If you brats don’t keep absolutely silent out here,’ he told them, ‘I shall personally mince every last one of you and serve you up on toast in the interval. Ssss!?’

  Hester was scarcely aware of anything beyond the brilliantly lit box in which she found herself. She was transported, transformed. She was at one and the same time herself and not herself, but a child, and then a flower, and although she knew with the conscious part of her mind that she was remembering steps she�
�d worked on for hours and hours during rehearsals, there was something in her that transcended her body and lifted her out of her ordinary, everyday self as soon as the music began.

  During the interval, there was no sign of Nell.

  ‘Have you checked in the toilet?’ Dinah said.

  Hester was on the point of answering, when Piers stormed into the dressing room.

  ‘Hester! I want you to change into Nell’s costume right away. You’ve watched the solo she does in Act Two, haven’t you?’

  Hester nodded. Her chest felt constricted, as though her heart had grown too large and was trying to break through her ribcage. ‘You look like a confused rabbit, Hester. Hurry up now and get Nell’s costume on. You’re dancing instead of her in Act Two.’

  ‘But where … ?’

  ‘Taken ill, of course. Gone to my house to be looked after by Ruby. Perfect timing.’

  Dinah said, ‘Don’t worry, Piers. I’ll get her make-up done. She’ll be ready.’

  Piers nodded and rushed from the room, presumably to warn the rest of the company that there would be a new Oriental dancer appearing tonight.

  ‘Your big chance, Hester,’ said Dinah. ‘Stay quite still or I’ll be drawing black lines down your cheeks instead of round your eyes.’

  ‘But why didn’t he ask Simone? Or you? What if I don’t know all the steps?’ Mixed with her fear was the feeling that Dinah had more right to a solo than she did. She’d been in the company longer. Surely she ought to have been chosen?

  ‘You do,’ said Dinah. ‘You’ve watched Nell do it often enough. He didn’t ask Simone because you’re better, that’s all. And you’re better than me as well. I don’t mind, Hester, really. Open your mouth for the lipstick.’

  ‘But what about Nell?’

  ‘What about her? She’s not Madame P. She’ll be thrilled for you. Not everyone in this company is a jealous bitch, though I grant you there are some people who might be trying to trip you up!’

  ‘Oh, God, what if I’m a disaster, Dinah? What if I let Piers down?’