Hester's Story

by Adle Geras

  ‘Yes, I want you to. I want to look at your face when you see what it is. And I want to think of you when you use it.’

  She undid the wrapping carefully. The gold paper was slippery under her hands. Inside was a robe made of black satin with the image of a golden dragon embroidered on the back. The dragon’s head was near the shoulder and a shimmering, scaly tail twisted and wound down towards the hem. It was the most beautiful garment Hester had ever seen that wasn’t a costume to be worn on stage. The black and gold seemed to slip and glitter and shine in her hands.

  ‘Oh!’ she said, as she turned it over and over, stroking the fabric, loving it, loving the opulence of it, the luxury and splendour. ‘Oh, how lovely! I shan’t want to wear it at all, it’s so beautiful. But I will. I won’t even wait until Christmas. I’ll wear it tonight and it’ll remind me of you every time I put it on. It’s … I can’t describe what it makes me feel. Where did you find it?’

  ‘There’s a shop near the British Museum. I saw it in the window and knew it was made for you. Do you like it? Really?’

  ‘I love it, Adam. I’ll treasure it for ever, I promise you.’

  ‘I love you, Hester. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘Of course I do.’

  Even as she said it, she wondered whether she believed her own words.

  *

  Red Riding Hood opened on Boxing Day. The theatre was full of children and parents and everyone seemed pleased to be there, but Hester was too worried about what would happen after the show to be anxious about the ballet itself. She took off the gold chain, wrapped it in a handkerchief and hid it carefully, as usual, in the cigar-box where she kept all her make-up. Her costume (a peasant outfit à la Giselle with a silk hooded cape over the top) was pretty and Edmund’s music was a joy to dance to. She thought about her first entrance, with the forest painted on flats on each side of the stage and the backdrop showing a path through the trees with a little house in the background. During rehearsals, she’d occasionally imagined Grand-mère as the person she was going to visit, but this was impossible once she’d seen Miles as the wolf. Both in his dress suit in the forest and later in the grandmother’s dress, the effect was comical.

  ‘We do not want droves of mothers fleeing the theatre with their screaming tots terrified of the Wolf,’ Piers said.

  Hester stood up and left the dressing room. What would happen after the ballet was over, she wondered for the hundredth time, but she pushed this to the back of her mind and set out for the wings to make her entrance stage left.

  *

  Dinah was helping Hester to dress for the dinner she had been dreading, and was right in the middle of putting up her hair. She had pushed Piers, and all the others who’d been congratulating Hester on her performance, out of the dressing room a few moments before. Adam and Virginia were waiting in the theatre bar. Edmund was coming to fetch Hester.

  ‘Stop twitching and sit still,’ Dinah said. ‘I’m going to make your hair into a sophisticated upswept whatsit but I can’t if you keep turning this way and that.’

  Hester was sitting on the stool in front of the mirror, wearing her dragon robe.

  ‘I’m just checking my eyes, and my lips. Are they okay? You don’t think I’ve got too much make-up on?’

  ‘No such thing, I don’t think.’

  ‘Of course there is! I don’t want to look brassy and artificial.’ Hester peered at her image in the mirror and grimaced.

  Dinah laughed. ‘You don’t. You look dewy and virginal.’

  ‘I don’t! Do I really?’

  ‘Yep. An accident of your features and colouring, I suppose. Also elegant and cool. All the good things you’re supposed to be according to the best magazines.’

  Hester’s eyes met Dinah’s in the mirror. ‘I’m terrified, Dinah. What am I going to say to her?’

  ‘You’ll be fine. Edmund will talk a mile a minute and you don’t have to speak much if you don’t feel like it. Just blush winsomely and tuck in to your smoked salmon or steak or whatever you’re having.’

  ‘Hester? Are you decent?’ Edmund stuck his head around the dressing-room door. ‘Oh golly, you look fantastic. We ought to go now. Are you nearly ready?’

  She nodded. She had put on a hyacinth-blue silk blouse with long, full sleeves and a black pencil skirt. On her feet, she wore black satin court shoes. She’d borrowed a black velvet cape from Wardrobe. She pulled it around her and joined Edmund at the door.

  ‘Are you okay, Hester?’ They were in the corridor leading down to the stage door.

  ‘I think so. I hope so.’

  ‘I’ll be there, you know. You can talk to me, whenever you’re feeling … well, whenever you like.’

  Hester flung her arms round Edmund’s neck and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘You’re so good to me! I don’t know how I’d manage anything without you. I’m dreading this evening so much, you can’t begin to imagine.’

  Edmund smiled. ‘Well, if your dread has this effect, I might wish you’d be scared more often. But nothing bad will happen. It’ll be perfectly all right, you’ll see. I know how hard it’ll be for you, but take my advice and pretend. It’s easy when you’re used to it. Pretend you’re just another ballerina who hardly knows Adam. Pretend you’ve only just met. Okay?’

  They were now outside the stage door and she couldn’t say what she was thinking, but it occurred to her that Edmund wasn’t going to feel exactly comfortable either. Hester didn’t know whether Adam had confided in him, but she had, and he would be aware of the hidden meanings in everything. Hester was grateful for his affection and support and realised suddenly how much she relied on him. All through the rehearsals for Red Riding Hood, during raucous meals at Gino’s with the rest of the cast, and on the rare occasions when they were alone, he directed a strong, steady warmth of friendship at her which never wavered and never altered. She tried out her happy smile, and kept it fixed on her face as she stepped out of the stage door to meet Adam and his wife, while her heart thumped painfully in her throat. It’ll soon be over, she thought. It’ll be all right.

  *

  Edmund and Hester were on one side of the table and Adam and Virginia on the other. The restaurant was the sort of place which Hester would have enjoyed describing to Dinah and Nell once she got home, but she wasn’t paying the surroundings the attention they deserved. She vaguely took in walls covered in something like dark red velvet, pink-shaded lamps everywhere and white china that sparkled and shone on pink linen tablecloths. I’ll have to tell Madame Olga something about it, Hester thought. She knew how infuriated her old teacher was to have been prevented from coming to the first night by a bad attack of flu. A good description of this restaurant would cheer her up. The food was probably delicious as well, though it could have been papier-máché as far as she was concerned. Virginia, on the other hand, she could have described to her friends in detail because, while everyone was talking, Hester looked at Adam’s wife and saw how pretty she was: fair, with blue eyes that were lighter than she remembered and long, curly blonde hair twisted up on top of her head with tendrils falling elegantly down on to her shoulders. She was wearing a plain white dress in heavy silk and her arms and throat were bare; her fur stole hung over the back of her chair.

  Hester found the sight of her a kind of torture. She couldn’t help it. When she looked at Virginia, all she could see was her naked body in the throes of making love with Adam. There was the high bed she remembered from Orchard House and Virginia spreadeagled on it, and then her and Adam together hot, panting, sweating, writhing. She began to feel weak and slightly nauseous.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ll be back in a moment,’ she said. ‘I must just …’ She picked up her handbag and stumbled towards the Ladies’ Room. When she got there, she locked herself into a cubicle and sat on the seat for a long time, trying to bring her breathing under control. In and out, in and out. Gradually, she began to feel more like herself. Someone was knocking on
the cubicle door.

  ‘Hester? Are you in there? Are you all right? It’s Virginia.’

  Oh, God, no, she thought. What shall I say? What shall I do? She called out, ‘Fine, thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.’

  ‘I’ll wait for you,’ Virginia spoke with an American accent. I’ll have to go out and face her, she thought. Face all of them. She stood up and opened the door and went to wash her hands.

  ‘I expect I’m tired,’ she ventured, trying hard to smile.

  ‘Don’t look so anxious, Hester, really. It’s quite understandable after your performance. Which was great, by the way. I’m so jealous of your talent. It must be wonderful to be able to dance like that. You’re like … like a flower, or thistledown or something. Light and beautiful. But of course I know what hard work it is. You make it seem so easy.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Hester said. ‘It does take it out of you a bit, especially on the first night.’

  ‘We’ll be going home soon, I’m sure. It’s quite a long drive down to Orchard House.’

  She nearly asked her why they weren’t staying at the flat, and then caught herself in time. She was perfectly sure that she wasn’t supposed to know of its existence. Virginia was applying lipstick in the mirror and rattling on in a way that surprised her, because she remembered her as being rather quiet. They’d been drinking wine. Maybe it had gone to Virginia’s head.

  ‘We could stay in the flat, of course,’ she went on. ‘Adam has a place in Chelsea he uses when he’s working late and so on, but I only really feel comfortable in the country. And it’s important I should feel comfortable because, well, I shouldn’t say this to you, I don’t suppose, and you’ll think I’m brash and vulgar and running off at the mouth, as we say in the States, but the thing is, we’ve been trying for a baby for the longest time and tonight – well, tonight is a good night for it, let’s just say that. So I really want to get Adam home as soon as possible and in the mood, if you know what I mean.’ She giggled and led the way out back to the table. Hester went after her, trembling. Virginia Lennister half-drunk and giggling. A good night to try for a baby. They’d been trying for the longest time. It took all her self-control to sit down again and go through coffee and the paying of the bill with something like an ordinary expression on her face.

  As they were leaving the restaurant, Hester whispered to Adam, ‘Never phone me again. Never write. I don’t ever want to see you. Not ever.’

  ‘But why?’ Adam whispered back urgently. Edmund and Virginia were walking a little ahead of them, towards the car.

  ‘Because you’re a liar. Nothing but lies from beginning to end. You’ve no intention of leaving your wife. I no longer believe a word you say.’

  ‘That’s nonsense, Hester, you know it is. I love you, dammit. I will tell her. As soon as I can. I promise.’

  ‘And when can you? When she’s told me herself how you’ve both been trying for a baby? You want everything, don’t you? Me and your wife and a baby. Everything. Well, you can’t have me. I’m a dancer and I can’t concentrate on my work if I’m worrying about you all day long. My work is more important than you are. You’re going to become not at all important to me.’

  He couldn’t answer, because they’d caught up with Edmund and Virginia. Hester sat in silence in the car all the way to Moscow Road, staring at the backs of their heads: Mr and Mrs Lennister, who were going home together. She felt as though every drop of blood had congealed in her veins. Deliberately, she turned her mind to tomorrow’s class. Piers would take the cast through the first night notes; he’d polish everything that needed attention before the next performance. She wouldn’t give Adam another thought. She’d forget about him and never think of him again.

  ‘Goodbye,’ Virginia said as Hester left the car when they reached Moscow Road. ‘Thank you for Red Riding Hood. It was such a success, wasn’t it? You must be so proud to be a part of that.’

  ‘Goodbye,’ Hester said. ‘Yes, good night. And thank you.’ She ran up to the porch and let herself in quietly, unable to stop hearing in her head that voice, Virginia’s voice, sighing into Adam’s ear, grunting and moaning; both of them frantic and loud in their lovemaking. She went up to the Attic de Luxe and fell into bed, wondering how to deal with the misery that was crushing her under its weight.

  *

  Between Boxing Day and Twelfth Night, Hester moved through the hours like an automaton. She came to life only when she was dancing. Apart from that, she walked about in a numbing fog of unhappiness.

  Dinah left for Wales on the second of January and Hester felt, as she waved after the taxi from the front porch of 24 Moscow Road, that this was a recurring image in her life: someone leaving in a big black car, someone getting smaller and smaller as they grew further and further away; someone gone for ever who used to be there. She wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek and chided herself. Don’t be so melodramatic and selfish, she told herself. You’re not saying goodbye to Dinah forever. You’ll stay in touch. She’ll write and so will you. It’s not like leaving Grand-mère. Not at all. But the sensation of being at the same time bruised and icy-cold was there, just the same. That never changed, however long it had been since Hester was that small child, saying a proper goodbye for the very first time.

  A few days after Dinah’s departure, she and Nell moved downstairs to single rooms. Hester felt very grown-up. Suddenly she was one of the senior dancers in the company, a principal with, according to everyone she spoke to, a dazzling career ahead of her. The reviews for Red Riding Hood were ecstatic. Adam wrote to her every day and she tore his letters up and threw them away, though not before she’d read them. He phoned her every night at Moscow Road and she always put the phone down at once. He sent her bunches of cream roses which she gave away to other dancers. He sent messages via Edmund. Then, one night, he was waiting when she came out of the stage door.

  Hester hesitated for a moment when she caught sight of him and tried to walk in the opposite direction, trying not to see his face. But he ran after her, and in the end she couldn’t stop herself from turning and running towards him; from burying her face in the fabric of his coat, and weeping with anguished longing as he held her. They didn’t say anything in the car. Later, he told her he couldn’t live without her. He promised again to tell Virginia that he was leaving her. He was going to marry Hester. He was. Did she believe him? Did she think he really would? She no longer knew, but she couldn’t bear to go on alone, not seeing him, not being with him. She had to believe there was a future for them.

  *

  For the very first time, Hester stayed in the flat all night, wrenching herself out of Adam’s embrace with barely minutes to spare before that morning’s class. As she got ready at the back of the church hall, Piers looked at her somewhat askance and asked, ‘Night on the tiles, Hester, dear?’

  Hester smiled weakly. Her whole body felt as though it were made of jelly. She tied the satin ribbons of her ballet shoes round her ankles and stood up to take her place with the others. She asked herself over and over again as her body went through the familiar routines, should I have let him talk me into staying? He didn’t have to do much persuading, she recalled. All he has to do is be near me. Every single part of me wants to be his and I don’t have the strength to keep my distance. She remembered how they’d torn their clothes off and fallen into bed like famished creatures—

  ‘Concentrate, Hester,’ Piers sounded cross. ‘You’re not paying attention.’

  Hester said nothing and blushed. And bend and entrechat and bend and plié. She wrenched her thoughts away from Adam and tried to fix them on what Piers wanted her to do.

  *

  The Charleroi Company left London at the end of March 1952. They were going to Birmingham, Cardiff, Newcastle, Manchester, Glasgow and Edinburgh and then back to London. For weeks, Hester’s life was a succession of train rides, and digs where she had to share chilly and sometimes rather grubby rooms with Nell and Mona. The inadequate radiators in these
places seemed to be forever draped in wet tights which were often still a little damp when she put them on in the evening. She took her doll, Antoinette, with her everywhere, and even though she remained in the suitcase, Hester liked knowing she was there. She would never have dared to cuddle her, but there were times, when she was missing Adam dreadfully, when the temptation to take her out and hold her tightly in bed was almost overwhelming.

  Coppélia was one of Hester’s favourite ballets, and Swanhilde was a part she loved. The way she transformed herself each night into a moving, dancing doll, with round eyes and stiff limbs was something like magic. The children in the audience always gasped when they saw the trick being played on the sinister and rather pathetic Doctor Coppélius, and even after many rehearsals and performances Hester would sometimes find herself shivering a little at the sight of the Chinaman, and the other automata in the Doctor’s workshop, staring at her from the shadows. The costumes and the make-up were so convincing that she could scarcely recognise dancers she’d known for years. This production was one Piers was very proud of, and with good reason.

  Throughout the tour, Hester wrote to Adam nearly every day. She had to admit that when it came to talking, to conversation, she had always found it easier to talk to Edmund than to Adam. Her conversations with her lover were too intense, every word too fraught with meaning. She used to spend hours every Sunday night going back over everything they’d said, trying to extract significance from each word. Edmund was funnier than Adam and more easygoing, and he and Hester laughed a lot together. She knew that, whatever happened, he was on her side, and the knowledge was comforting.

  All the letters that Adam wrote to her while she was out of London she kept in a beautiful wooden box that Dinah had given her before she left the company. He was a good writer and found a thousand different ways to say that he loved her, but sometimes Hester wondered whether she should believe him. She stared at the thin lines of ink arranged in the neat italics of his beautiful handwriting and didn’t know what would happen to the two of them. And there was something else. It had been more than five weeks since her last period. Her cycle was always very irregular, however, so she tried not to worry too much.