Hester's Story

by Adle Geras

Alison helped herself to another scone and remembered briefly how furious she was with her mother. If she could see me now, she’d have a fit, Alison thought. I don’t care though. It’s delicious and I’m hungry. She watched Ruby’s silver needle pricking in and out of the canvas, and wondered if she dared to ask why she’d been crying earlier, in Wardrobe. Would Ruby get upset and throw her out? How should she put it? Perhaps it would be tactful to pretend she’d never seen it. Ruby looked up from her tapestry.

  ‘There’s something troubling you, Alison. Am I right?’

  ‘Well, not troubling me exactly, only – well – I wanted to ask you something and I don’t know if you’d like me to. That’s all.’

  ‘Ask away.’

  She couldn’t. She couldn’t ask about the crying. Instead, she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Why don’t you have decorations or a tree up still? It’s only just been Christmas.’

  The silence that followed seemed to go on for a very long time. Ruby appeared to be completely absorbed in her tapestry and it was such ages before she lifted her head that Alison was on the point of saying something else, something quite different, to change the subject and make everything all right again. But Ruby spoke before she was able to think of the right words.

  ‘We have never celebrated Christmas here. Not at any time since I started working for Hester. She … well, she’s never really had a chance to, what with being someone who always worked on Boxing Day, all through her life as a dancer. It just didn’t seem worth it, somehow, to put everything up and then not be able to appreciate it properly. And for the last ten years, of course, there’s been the Festival. What with a company on the point of arriving and then the rehearsals and so forth, it never seemed …’ She paused. ‘Appropriate. There’s always a party after the first night, and that’s sort of taken the place of Christmas here at Wychwood.’

  Alison nodded, only partly satisfied. ‘I expect you have the turkey and things, don’t you, even though there’s no tree?’

  Ruby shook her head and looked straight at Alison. ‘Salmon, usually. Hester doesn’t like Christmas pudding. And besides …’ She shook her head. ‘It’s such a sad time of the year, isn’t it? The longest night and all the trees looking so bare and nothing much in the garden. We’re busy arranging the Festival. We try not to notice the dark days.’

  ‘You were crying before,’ Alison said, and the words were out of her mouth almost before she was aware of what she was saying. ‘In the theatre. I wanted to know why you were, but I didn’t dare to ask. It’s none of my business, but—’

  ‘Och, that was nothing to get upset about. I should have explained at once, I suppose, but I hadn’t met you then. I was thinking of an old friend of ours, mine and Hester’s, who died recently, that’s all. Adam Lennister, his name was. He died far too young. I think it must have been passing the Giselle costume in the bar that put me in mind of him, because that was his favourite ballet. That’s all.’

  ‘I expect a Christmas tree and decorations wouldn’t be right if you’re in mourning, would it?’

  ‘No, I suppose this year, Adam’s death has made a celebration less possible than it usually is.’

  Ruby resumed her stitching. Alison wondered again whether what she’d just heard was the whole story. There was nothing sinister or strange about being sad when someone you knew died. That was quite normal, but there was something in the way Ruby never once looked at her while she was speaking, and her eyes sort of moved from side to side in a way that Alison thought looked like someone who wanted to run away. She’d had a lot of practice with Claudia, who was always varnishing the truth, and she was almost sure that Ruby had been crying about something quite different; something she didn’t want to talk about. Or maybe she was crying about more than one thing and had only told Alison about the most obvious one.

  ‘Hello, ladies,’ said someone, and Alison jumped up from her chair.

  ‘You’ve met Alison, haven’t you, George?’

  ‘What a nice surprise. Come to have tea with us, have you?’ said George. ‘I hope you’ve kept a scone or two for me.’

  He sat in the other armchair and Ruby took the tray out to the kitchen to make fresh tea for him. He picked up a scone and ate it in three swift bites.

  ‘I had no idea when I married her that Ruby was such a good cook, but if I had, that would have been a very good reason to propose, I reckon. Have you had one?’

  ‘Yes, they’re lovely.’ Alison racked her brain for something to say but found herself suddenly tongue-tied. She didn’t have to worry, though, because George was someone who chatted away whether you joined in or not. He was just finishing a story about when he was in the army and had got in trouble with a sergeant for nicking someone else’s cigarettes or something, when Ruby came back with the tea.

  ‘I was just talking to that Nick chap, Ruby,’ he told her. ‘He’s got a lot of good stories to tell about some of the London companies.’

  Alison, who’d almost fallen into a doze, what with the warmth of the fire and the lovely food and the softness of the cushions in the armchair, sprang to attention mentally when she heard Nick’s name mentioned. Alison knew that it was completely stupid and ridiculous to think that Nick might ever be interested in her, even if he wasn’t gay, which she thought he might be. She was almost sure she’d heard Ilene mentioning something about this to Andy. Nick was just being friendly when he smiled at her and touched her arm. He’s nice to everyone, she thought, and then something truly hideous occurred to her. What if he fancied Claudia? Lots and lots of men did, Alison knew that. Being nice to her daughter was a thing some of them did to make her like them. They weren’t to know that this wasn’t going to impress her.

  Alison stifled a sigh. She could practically see a mood of misery and chilliness creeping over her. It looked like a grey, shapeless ghost and Alison knew that it was about to engulf her and then the pleasant feelings she’d been having, sitting here drinking tea with Ruby and her husband, would all disappear in a moment.

  *

  ‘Are you coming, darling?’ Claudia was in a seductive mood. Nick had shaken her up rather. He was without a doubt the most gorgeous young man she’d seen for ages and he was having a predictable effect on her. She couldn’t wait to rehearse their pas de deux tomorrow. Those long fingers holding her waist, his breath on her neck. She shivered. Hugo could have distracted her, but he was sitting at the small table in the corner of their bedroom, rather too preoccupied with the papers in front of him. That was his problem. He was dedicated. It didn’t seem to matter a scrap to him that she’d arranged herself on one of the twin beds in a way that would have driven any normal man crazy. No, he was taken up with thinking about tomorrow’s rehearsals and probably that Silver person. He clearly thought she was the cat’s pyjamas, and saw her as the new, the young – yes, the young – up and coming star. Well, Claudia thought, there’s time enough for him to worry about that tomorrow. He ought to be paying some attention to me now. She lay back on top of the duvet, with her breasts almost entirely exposed, and sighed. Hugo was running a hand through his hair and pretending he hadn’t seen her.

  ‘You’re more interested in your scribblings about tomorrow’s rehearsal than you are in me.’

  ‘Not at all, darling.’ But he sounded so far away that Claudia knew she was right. ‘I’ll be there in a second. I’ve just got to finish the notations for tomorrow’s scenes.’

  She closed her eyes and waited. Like this, it was easy to imagine that someone else – Nick – was going to come and stretch out beside her. She knew that lovemaking was probably the last thing on Hugo’s mind, but she was beginning to feel more and more as though she needed, had to. And here he was, Hugo, lying next to her on the counterpane. He stroked her neck and whispered in her ear, sending tremors of pleasure through her body. She would keep her eyes tightly closed …

  ‘Show me that you love me,’ Claudia whispered, sliding her body under his.

  ‘You’re making
it difficult for me to say no, Claudia. We’d better try to keep it quiet though. We’re all so on top of one another in this house.’

  ‘I’ll be completely silent. I promise. Oh, Hugo, I want you so much. Please … please.’

  She felt his arms around her. He was pulling her closer to him.

  ‘Claudia,’ he said, and then he was stifling her moans with his kisses. ‘Sssh,’ he said. ‘Sssh, darling.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Claudia and moved her body in rhythm with his. ‘Oh, Hugo darling, I won’t … I can’t …’

  Much later, when they’d retired to their separate beds, Hugo fell asleep at once, but Claudia lay awake for a long time. During their lovemaking, she had found it very easy indeed to forget about Hugo altogether and use her imagination to conjure up Nick instead. That was bad news, wasn’t it? That was the beginning of the end when you started imagining another lover. What if nothing came of it? She loved Hugo. She did. She’d been happy with him for a long time. Why did that have to change? Maybe it didn’t. Maybe she could have her cake and eat it. But what if Nick wasn’t interested? That wasn’t a thought that would allow her to get to sleep, so Claudia deliberately turned her mind to other things, Nick’s arms, for example, pulling her back against him. The smell of his body as they danced together. She went over the steps of the pas de deux in her head. Tomorrow they’d be dancing together. Please, she thought, as sleep overcame her, let me dream about him.

  29 December 1986

  ‘It’s a bloody disaster!’ Hugo sat down heavily on a chair in the rehearsal room and Silver could see he was having to make a huge effort to stop himself from kicking something. At his feet, three large boxes lay open, their contents spilling out on the floor. Silver saw some ragged feathers stuck to a mass of damp chiffon. That was my outfit, she thought. And that Harlequin-type colourful thing must be the Fool’s costume. The props had been badly damaged. Scarlet roses made from some kind of plastic had been snapped off a couple of bushes. Goblets had huge dents in them. Baskets of fruit had been crushed. It was all a hideous mess.

  Everyone was standing around, not quite sure what to say. It was clear that Hugo was in such a state that any remark might make him worse instead of better. Claudia stood behind him and Silver could see that she was dying to put a calming hand on his shoulder. At least this would give him something else to worry about and maybe get him off her back a bit. She wasn’t looking forward to being told off for not pulling her weight in front of other members of the company. It was bad enough when they were on their own. She wondered whether to say something comforting about the costumes and decided it was probably safer to shut up. Ilene and Andy had huddled together in a corner and were whispering to one another. Nick was the first to dare to speak.

  ‘Surely there’s something we can do? We can get compensation, can’t we? Insurance and so forth?’

  ‘Fat lot of good insurance’ll be when our costumes and props are ruined. I doubt very much if we can get replacements in time. New Year’s Eve the day after tomorrow and then New Year’s Day and then there’s only a couple of days to the dress rehearsal. These aren’t ordinary costumes out of stock. They’ve been specially made and Molly, the person who made them, is out of the country. I suppose we could send someone down to London to get some stuff off the rail at one of the theatre costumiers but it won’t be the same. It won’t be the Sarabande I intended.’ He frowned and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t want to depress anyone, but honestly, I don’t know where this leaves our production.’

  ‘How did it happen?’ Everyone was wondering about this, but only Claudia was brave enough (or foolhardy enough, Silver thought) to ask.

  ‘I should have thought that was obvious,’ said Hugo, fixing Claudia with a look that would strip paint. ‘Some stupid bugger left these boxes out in the rain at the station or something and everything’s soaked through. Colour’s run on the costumes and they’ve been torn. Look – and many of the props are broken. Not just wet, but stuff snapped in pieces. Disaster. I don’t know what to do.’

  Andy said, ‘We ought to unpack everything, oughtn’t we? To see the extent of the damage.’

  Hugo sighed. ‘I suppose so.’ He glanced round the room in despair and his gaze fell on Alison who was sitting on a chair in the corner. I know why she’s here, Silver thought. She tries to hide it, poor kid, but it’s clear as clear. She’s got a crush on Nick and she’ll come to every single rehearsal, just in case she gets a smile out of him or something. Maybe I should put her straight.

  Alison put up her hand, as if she were in a classroom.

  ‘What is it, Alison?’ Hugo sounded irritable.

  ‘Sorry, Hugo, only I thought that if you asked Ruby, she’d know what to do. About the costumes, I mean.’

  He sighed, and then said, more as a way of humouring Alison than because he thought it was a good idea, you could tell, ‘Okay, okay, maybe she can. D’you know where she is?’

  ‘She’s in the laundry room in the basement, up at the house. Shall I go and fetch her?’

  ‘Go on then. Meanwhile, the rest of you, let’s get this lot packed away till Ruby gets here and do some actual dancing. At least that can be up to scratch even if nothing else can.’

  Alison ran out of the room in search of Ruby, and Andy and Ilene made their way to the space marked out on the floor to represent the Princess’s room. Nick sat down and waved to Silver from the other side of the room and made a rueful face at her.

  ‘Right,’ said Hugo. ‘When you’re quite ready, Nick – thank you – I’ll concentrate on this. Sorry, Andy and Ilene, this has eaten into your time a bit, but let’s make a start.’ From the tape recorder came the up-tempo, jig-like music that accompanied the Fool’s dances.

  ‘Right, Andy, sprightly, sprightly. God, you look like a pensioner on sleeping pills. Lively, for Heaven’s sake!’

  Silver wondered what would happen if Claudia came and sat next to her. She’d want to chat but Hugo couldn’t bear a background of chattering during rehearsal and, in any case, what would they say to one another? Claudia had hardly spoken to her since they’d arrived at Wychwood. It would be hard to shut her up without annoying her. How was she supposed to do that? Claudia was, however, too clever to make Hugo crosser than he was already. She signalled Silver with a tilt of her head that clearly said ‘come outside and have a natter’, and left the room. Silver followed her out and found her already settled down in one of the chairs outside the rehearsal room.

  ‘Come and have a chat,’ she said to Silver. ‘I can’t bear sitting there in silence and watching other people go through their stuff, can you? Plus I reckon Andy and Ilene’ll appreciate being left to themselves, right? It can be a bit intimidating to be watched sometimes, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Silver smiled. What Claudia meant was it would put these lesser dancers off to have a prima ballerina like me seeing Hugo directing and correcting them.

  ‘Poor Hugo!’ Claudia went on. ‘Those costumes and props mean such a lot to him. He’s so taken up with every detail, d’you know what I mean? Actually, I made a point of bringing my own costume with me, so I’ll be wearing what I was supposed to wear all the time. It’s better, I’ve found, to be safe than sorry.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Silver. What could she possibly say? She struggled to find something. ‘Ruby used to be Hester Fielding’s dresser, didn’t she? And there are lots of costumes upstairs in Wardrobe. Someone who was here at last year’s Festival told me about it. I expect she’ll find some things we can all wear.’

  Claudia smiled at Silver and waved a hand, indicating that all talk of costumes bored her to tears. She leaned forward. ‘Actually, I wanted to ask you about something else. Or someone else, really.’

  ‘Who’s that?’ What was she after?

  ‘Nick Neary. Do you know him? I can’t think why our paths have never crossed. He’s very good, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, excellent. What can I tell you about him? He’s okay. I’ve done
a couple of things with him.’

  ‘Is he gay?’

  There. That was it.

  ‘Bi, I think. He’s had boyfriends in the past, that I know for a fact, but then last year he had a thing with Lucy Bradshaw.’

  ‘Really? You surprise me. Such a skinny, wretched looking creature.’

  Silver laughed. ‘It’s not as though the rest of us are plump, though, is it?’

  ‘No, but you know what I mean …’ Claudia indicated her generous bosom. ‘In certain areas a bit extra is always very welcome.’

  She laughed a deliberately sexy sort of laugh.

  Pathetic, Silver thought to herself. Can it possibly be that Claudia had her eye on Nick? What about Hugo? She couldn’t surely be planning anything while they were all living so much on top of one another? She said, not bothering to hide the fact that she was changing the subject, ‘Your Alison’s a nice kid.’

  ‘Oh, she’s fine with other people,’ Claudia said. ‘It’s only when you’re her mother that you get the rough side of her tongue. And her father’s buggered off to the other side of the Atlantic with his fancy woman, so of course I bear the brunt of everything. D’you mind if I ask you something?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Silver said, and wondered what now?

  ‘I read somewhere that you’re going to Paris to dance with French Opera Ballet again next year. Is that right? Amazing for you if it is.’

  ‘Yes, I’m doing Swan Lake with them. In April. Just as a guest, though. I’m not joining the company. But I’ve got to do Sellophane in G for Jacques Bodette first, when this is over.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Claudia rummaged in her huge handbag and Silver could have sworn that she sounded disappointed. Why on earth, she thought, would Claudia care what I do when Sarabande is over? Could she be jealous? That’s what it looks like. She knows she’s getting older and she hates it. Does she think that Hugo might replace her with me? Maybe I ought to reassure her and tell her how useless he thinks I am, but why should I? Let her worry. She was so horrid to Alison and a bit of fretting won’t kill her.