by Adle Geras
She leaned forward and kissed Hester on the cheek and then stood up. ‘I’m not going to complain about Hugo again either. I shall try my very hardest. Really. I’m so happy to have talked to you.’ She was gone before Hester had time to say anything.
The fragrance she wore, like vanilla and something else – sandalwood? – lingered in the drawing room. Hester couldn’t deny that there was some satisfaction in meeting someone face to face who was a true fan; it was so good to be admired. It was probably vain of her to enjoy Silver’s adulation, but she couldn’t help it. It was true that she was very conscious of her reputation and her looks and if that was vanity, she was guilty of it. I don’t think though, she reflected, that I’ve ever deluded myself. I don’t think I’ve given myself airs, or I hope I haven’t. I wasn’t like Claudia. She was forever looking over her shoulder to see the effect she was having on people and I never did that. Silver seems confident yet somehow not in the least full of herself. She’s a surprise, Hester thought. She looks so cool, and yet she’s a kind young woman. It had been some time since anyone had kissed her as affectionately and impulsively as Silver had done and she felt as though she’d been given a gift.
*
‘Are you going back to the house?’ Nick was leaning against the wall of the rehearsal room, and Claudia could feel his eyes on her back as she bent forward to zip up her boots. He was undoubtedly staring at her thighs in black Lycra and the thought of what he might be thinking made her smile. I wish he’d touch me, she thought. He could. He’s easily close enough, but perhaps he feels embarrassed with some of the others about. She straightened up. ‘Yes, I am. But I thought I’d go along the outside path. I need a bit of air. And a cigarette, to be quite frank. Hester doesn’t like us smoking in the house, so I’m going to have to brave the weather.’ She smiled at him. ‘It’d be much more fun if you were to come with me. If you can bear the cold, that is.’
‘I don’t notice things like that. Not when I’m with a beautiful woman.’
‘How gallant!’
They made their way out of the Arcadia Theatre, laughing.
‘I can’t tell you,’ Claudia said, pausing outside the doors of the foyer to light her cigarette, ‘how refreshing it is to laugh a bit. Hugo is such a worry guts. Takes everything hugely seriously. You know what I mean, don’t you? He just never seems to relax these days.’
‘He’s mad,’ Nick said. ‘If I had you to relax with, I’d do nothing else.’
Oh, God, Claudia thought, staring into his eyes. Why does he have to be so gorgeous? The temptation to put out a hand and brush his hair off his forehead was almost overwhelming, but Claudia was a great believer in playing hard to get, at least for the first few skirmishes in the sex war. In the end, she realised with a thrill that originated in her womb and spread through her whole body, she would succumb. She always did. Nick kissing her … imagining that made her feel a little dizzy and she took a drag from the cigarette and blew smoke into the cold air. Then she set off along the path and Nick walked beside her. She said, ‘That’s not what I heard.’
‘What’s not what you heard?’
‘That you’d like to relax with me. Or any woman, come to that.’
‘Oh, I get it!’ Nick laughed. ‘It’s the gay stories, isn’t it? You’ve been listening to gossip, Claudia. You shouldn’t. People are so inaccurate sometimes. You ought to know that.’
‘Are you saying you don’t … you’ve never?’
‘No, I’m not. I have been known … well, let’s say men haven’t always been entirely out of the question. Especially when I was much younger. But these days, a person has to be extra careful, don’t they? The whole AIDS thing terrifies me. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Claudia. ‘I understand perfectly.’ And as far as AIDS was concerned, she did. She, too, along with everyone else, had been shocked into serious consideration of this ghastly new illness. But Nick was obviously one of those people (and there were plenty of them, she knew that) who would sleep with men or women, as long as they were attractive, and that she found harder to understand. How could they find both men and women attractive, she wondered. She hadn’t a clue, but if Nick said he fancied her, then who was she to contradict him? A tiny voice in the deepest part of her head was saying wait till he’s been with you. He’ll never want to look at another man again. Or woman if it comes to that. Claudia tried as hard as she could not to listen. She was being plain conceited, she knew, but still. It was a tempting thought to have the kind of sex with Nick which would make him renounce everyone else for a while.
As they walked, they chatted and gossiped about Sarabande, the others in the company and Hester Fielding. The house was coming closer. They’d be there soon, and no longer alone together and she wouldn’t have another chance to get near him till God knew when. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. ‘I’m off to have a bath. I wish you could come with me and scrub my back,’ she said.
He stood quite still for a moment and looked at her. Then he put out a hand and lifted the hair that was hanging down over her shoulder. He stroked it gently and she felt as though the blood in her veins was fizzing. He put his hand on her arm and leaned towards her.
‘I wish I could, too,’ he whispered, speaking right into her ear, even though there was no one looking at them except a bunch of silly sheep. ‘But I wouldn’t stop at scrubbing your back, Claudia. You’re killing me. Dancing with you is killing me. We’re going to do something about it, right?’
Claudia nodded, struck dumb for once. How, she wanted to ask? How, with Hugo sharing a room with me, and my daughter never very far away?
‘Trust me,’ Nick said, and strode away from her and towards the front door. She followed, hoping that no one had been looking down at the drive from one of the windows. She had to get herself into a normal condition before Hugo came back from rehearsal. She smiled as she remembered Nick’s words. We’re going to do something about it, right? Oh, yes, Nick, she thought. Very very right indeed.
*
‘Claudia’s going to be okay,’ Hugo said. Hester nodded and said nothing, so he went on. ‘I was worried that she couldn’t manage the part. She’s lost a lot of her power as a dancer over the last couple of years, but just lately she’s done quite well. Put a lot more energy into her work. It might be Nick, of course. Having a much younger partner does sometimes have that effect.’
‘Yes, it does. Look at me and Kaspar Beilin. And Fonteyn and Nureyev. It’s often just what a ballerina needs to galvanise her. I’m sure she’ll be splendid.’
‘And I think Silver will be all right too, if I’m lucky. I showed her the new sequence you suggested and she seemed to be happy to try it.’ He sat back in his chair and took a sip from the wine that Hester had poured him. This, he thought, is the best part of every day, just sitting and talking things over with Hester. He said: ‘I’m so glad I can chat to you about everything that’s on my mind, you know. I look forward to our sessions. During rehearsals, I think of things I want to consult you about, or ask you. I’m grateful to you for letting me see you like this.’
Hester laughed. ‘I look forward to it as well, you know, Hugo. I’ve got nothing but time, really, once the visiting company is here, and talking to the choreographer every day is my way of keeping an eye on things. But it does make me feel nostalgic. I go for weeks thinking I’ve got everything under control and that I’m quite used to being middle-aged and no longer able to do things with my body that I was able to do for years and then, quite suddenly, I’ll think of something or hear a snatch of music or see someone – like Silver for instance – and then this feeling sweeps over me and I’m longing with all my heart to be able to do it just once more. Go to rehearsal. Tie the ribbons on my ballet shoes. Stand in the wings with the stage flooded with light like a kind of desert stretching out in front of me.’ She paused, and smiled at Hugo. ‘I’m so sorry. I got carried away. I don’t often talk like this. I’m not sure what it is about you, but it makes a person
want to confide in you.’
Hugo leaned forward and took Hester’s hand. ‘I’m honoured that you feel you can say such things to me. I won’t let you down. I’ll make sure Sarabande is the best it can possibly be. I promise.’
‘I know you will. Have another glass of wine before you go.’
‘I shouldn’t, really. There’s a lot I want to do before dinner. But thanks, maybe half a glass.’
As he watched Hester pour the drink, Hugo felt himself relaxing. Really, it was quite remarkable how safe she made him feel. That was the exact word for it, safe. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened to Siggy, who was snoring slightly as he slept, curled up on a rug in front of the fire.
31 December 1986
Silver stood behind Alison and frowned as she looked over her head into the mirror.
‘Not bad,’ she said. ‘Okay, open your mouth just a little. That’s right. This lipstick’s called Tulip Touch, I love it. You have to be careful when you’re a brunette, usually. Sometimes brunettes have an olivey skin which hates certain shades of pink, but you’re lucky. You seem to have your mother’s complexion, even though you’re not a redhead. Nice and creamy.’
‘Shame about the spots, though, right?’ Alison said, her voice sounding funny because of how she was holding her lips while Silver worked away at making her up for the New Year’s Eve dinner party.
‘Spots are what concealer and foundation were invented for. Can you see any spots? Have a look.’
‘I look – I look not like myself at all,’ Alison said, and it was true. Silver, she thought, was some sort of magician. ‘I’m so glad it was you who found me, and not anyone else.’
Silver had bumped into Alison in the corridor. She’d just come out of Claudia and Hugo’s room and her eyes were red-rimmed with crying. Almost before Alison knew what was happening, she was being led into Silver’s own bedroom.
‘What’s the matter? You’ve been crying.’
‘And now I’ll look worse than ever.’
‘Tell me what’s wrong. Have you been having a fight with your mum? I spent half my teenage years in floods after one kind of row or another. Have a drink, it’ll calm you down. I’ve only got mineral water, but what the hell. Next time I come to the middle of nowhere, I’ll be sure to pack a bottle of gin or something. What were you rowing about?’
‘Oh, nothing, really,’ Alison sighed. ‘Nothing different. I just went to ask her, my mum, what I should wear for the dinner tonight and she said it wouldn’t make any difference what I wore. So I burst into tears.’
‘Did she really say that?’
‘She actually said, it doesn’t matter what you wear. But I knew what she meant. She meant that nothing I wore would make any difference to the way I look, i.e., fat and ugly.’
‘Rubbish and total nonsense!’ Silver said. Then she looked carefully at Alison. ‘Have you got a pair of clean black trousers?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about a black top? T-shirt with long sleeves, or something. A thin jumper, at a pinch. But black.’
Alison nodded.
‘Okay,’ said Silver. ‘Go and get those on and come back here in, well, give it half an hour to let your eyes recover.’ She stood on tiptoe suddenly and waved her hand in a circle over Alison’s head and smiled so that you could almost feel the warmth of it on your skin. ‘You, too, shall go to the ball, Cinders,’ she said, and burst out laughing. ‘Wait till I’ve finished with you and then see if you’re fat and ugly. It’s simply not true!’
Now, Alison gazed into the mirror and rubbed her lips gently together. Her Tulip-touched lips. Her eyes looked amazing. Greeny-brown eyeshadow, highlighter, a bit of a line drawn along the lid which she could hardly see but which Silver swore made all the difference and tons and tons of mascara which made her eyelashes look dark and thick and glamorous.
‘Very important to emphasise the eyes if you wear glasses,’ Silver said, and then, looking with satisfaction at her own handiwork, she went on, ‘D’you know, if I hadn’t been a dancer, I’d have loved to do stuff like this. Make-up and hair. Or making people over from scratch. See how fantastic you look.’
Alison smiled. Silver had persuaded her to wear her hair loose. It hung down to her shoulders and luckily she’d washed it just this morning so that it shone. She could actually see it shining, just like hair in advertisements. Silver had made a sort of necklace out of a scarf of hers that was silvery and pink and looked gorgeous. Apart from the scarf, Alison was all in black and that made her look, if not exactly slim, at least not huge.
‘Pity about the shoes,’ said Silver. ‘I wish I could lend you some of mine, but those boots look reasonable. Just remember for next time, go for a bit of a heel. Add height. Always a good idea.’
‘You’re really kind, Silver.’ Alison turned round to face her directly.
‘That’s okay. I love doing it. Any time, honestly.’
Alison stood up to leave and Silver hugged her.
‘Don’t let them grind you down,’ she said, and Alison left the room feeling as though she was a completely different person from the one who’d gone in – braver, prettier, more glamorous. She was longing for dinner.
New Year’s Eve. It was her favourite time of the year. She had a mental image of all the months, looking like a kind of mountain, sloping from the top left to bottom right. December was in the bottom right hand corner and then, on the first of January, you started all over again at the top of the slope, sliding down towards winter. And somehow, everything was much more wintry here in the country.
Suddenly there seemed to be a lot to look forward to. Going into Leeds with Ruby was good fun, and tomorrow she’d be helping her with the costumes and props that needed repairing and making. Before that, though, there was the New Year’s Eve dinner. She was longing for it. Perhaps she’d be able to sit next to Nick, or opposite him. Most of the time, her head was like a television screen running a whole series of little scenes involving the two of them: she and Nick clinking champagne glasses at midnight, laughing together, dancing, and holding one another very close. There was even one in which they were kissing, but Alison tried not to think about that too much. It depressed her when the dream ended and she had to admit that it was all mad. Cloud cuckoo land. None of it would ever happen, and she was a silly fool. Some people said that Nick was gay, but even if he wasn’t he wouldn’t look at her.
Now Alison went to the staircase and pretended that Nick was going to meet her at the bottom. He’d be staring up at her as she tripped elegantly down, almost floating, with the ends of the pink and silver scarf trailing down her back, and he’d say something like I never realised you were so beautiful, Alison. You must sit next to me tonight. This year will be the beginning …
‘Well, Lawks-a-mercy, child,’ said a voice, and Alison blinked and realised in a flush of embarrassment that it was Nick, the real Nick not the fantasy, speaking. She’d been so caught up in her daydream that she didn’t even notice him standing at the foot of the stairs and looking up at her. How stupid was that! As her blush subsided, she managed to speak.
‘Hello.’ Okay, it wasn’t exactly scintillating but it was a beginning.
‘You look fabulous, my love,’ said Nick. He shook his finger at her, and said, ‘Someone’s been having a go at you. Someone who knows what’s what in the slap department.’
‘Silver made me up.’
‘She did a splendid job. Now come along to the dining room, honey. We’re in top posh party mode tonight. No eating in the kitchen. We’re living it up in style. Come with me, and we’ll go in together.’
He tucked Alison’s arm under his and patted her hand as it rested on his sleeve. This has to be, Alison thought, the best moment of my whole life. She could feel his muscles under her fingers through the fabric of his shirt. How strong he was! And he smelled gorgeous. They went into the dining room. The table was set down at the far end, and Alison caught sight of white linen and flowers and glasses by every place se
tting. Everyone had gathered near the door for drinks and turned as they came in.
‘Nick, darling,’ said Claudia, gliding to his side. ‘We’ve all been wondering where you were.’ She looked searchingly at Alison. ‘Well now, don’t you look good! Who’s persuaded you out of your usual outfits? Not to mention the make-up. Amazing.’
‘Silver made me up. She lent me the scarf too.’
‘Lovely. How kind of her.’ She turned to Nick. ‘No one ever listens to their mother, do they? I’ve been trying to get her to smarten up for years and years and then along comes Silver and in one second, hey presto, the battle is won.’
She spoke lightly and Nick would never have guessed, but Alison knew how furious Claudia was. She was jealous of Silver anyway, because of her being younger and a better dancer and now she’d come along and acted as though she was related to Alison, or her best friend or something and Claudia didn’t like that one little bit. She couldn’t say a word, of course, because that would make her look mean and grudging. Tee-hee, thought Alison. Serve her right.
‘Now, darling,’ Claudia said to her daughter, ‘I think you’ve monopolised this divine young man long enough. He’s done his duty and brought the princess to the ball, and now,’ (she touched his hand and looked up at him from under a sweep of eyelashes that made Alison’s look sparse) ‘he’s coming along with me to get a glass of wine.’
She gathered him up and he went off with her, glancing over his shoulder at Alison as they made their way over to the drinks table as if to say it’s not my fault. I can’t help it. I’d much rather be staying and chatting to you. Anyway, that was how she interpreted his raised eyebrows and the funny thing he did with his mouth when he smiled at her.