Hester's Story

by Adle Geras

  As they climbed down the ladder again, Alison found herself wondering about the contents of all the other skips. I wouldn’t have minded getting a look inside them, she thought, and wondered if she’d get to go up to the attic again while she was here. Probably not. There wouldn’t be any need for it.

  *

  ‘We’re always at sixes and sevens after New Year’s Eve dinner,’ said Ruby. She and Alison were sitting on either side of the table in Wardrobe at one o’clock, which was after lunch for them, but after breakfast for the rest of the company. Everyone else had slept late and eaten at about half past eleven, and rehearsals weren’t due to start till two. Siggy had followed them to the Arcadia and was now sitting on top of a small skip.

  ‘He looks as though he’s making sure we’re getting on with our work and not slacking,’ said Ruby.

  Alison smiled. Siggy reminded her of another of her dad’s verses, the one about the kitten, in the lullaby book:

  Here is a kitten

  with four white paws

  who dreams of creeping

  through the grass.

  She thinks of butterflies she has seen

  who tickle her white nose

  as they pass.

  The postman wasn’t going to come today. Maybe tomorrow there’d be a letter from him. It was getting harder and harder to believe that Dad would write to her while she was here, but she’d been very careful to put the Wychwood Hall address on the back of the envelope she’d sent her card in. She concentrated on twisting the strip of scarlet crêpe-paper she was holding into something she hoped resembled the perfect rose lying in front of her. Ruby had shown her how to make these flowers and they needed loads of them for the show, so she was going to be safe here for a bit, away from her mother and Nick and the rest of the company. Sometimes she wished she could just live on an island all by herself, like Robinson Crusoe. It would be restful, she thought, to have to worry about practical things like where your next meal was coming from, and not have the inside of your head taken up with sorting out what you felt about everything.

  Ruby was busy embroidering brightly coloured, rather large flowers and leaves on a plain blue skirt with what was obviously tapestry wool. She didn’t speak much and when she did, it was about practical things. She glanced up and explained what she was doing.

  ‘If I used silks to do this work, it would take a very long time and be much too dainty. The wool is thick and so you can see the effect much better when it’s on stage. It’s louder and more obvious, and the work goes very quickly. Look at the size of my needle! It’s the one I use for darning.’

  Alison couldn’t think of an answer. This morning, because she was so tired of waiting for some kind of communication from her father, she didn’t really care too much what anything looked like, which she supposed was disloyal of her. Sarabande meant so much to her mother and Hugo, and he was really upset about what had happened to the costumes. But after what had gone on last night she was too pissed off with both of them to see things from their point of view.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ruby asked, holding her needle still for a moment and looking searchingly at Alison. ‘You must be tired. We all went to bed so late.’

  ‘I didn’t sleep very well, even when I did get to bed.’ Alison summoned up what she hoped was a cheery smile. All she needed was Ruby interrogating her about what she’d seen. She turned to the crêpe-paper, cut off a length of green, and twisted it round a bit of wire to make a stem for her rose.

  ‘You’re getting good at those,’ Ruby said encouragingly.

  ‘I like making them,’ Alison answered. ‘I’m going to do some pink ones in a second.’

  Ruby nodded and went back to her embroidery. Alison went on trying to puzzle out what she’d seen and not seen last night. Her mother had drunk too much wine. She was flirting with Nick and though Alison hoped and hoped that he wouldn’t respond, he seemed to be enjoying it. Leaning towards her and looking down the front of her top. Alison had gone to bed straight after all the midnight kisses, which weren’t really kisses, but just people making their mouths into kissing shapes and going about trying to catch everyone. She’d never in her life had so many people wish her Happy New Year. What she’d felt like doing was running away and being alone.

  She’d fallen asleep almost at once. Then, just as suddenly, she was awake. She could hear voices. She lay in bed, wondering who it was and then thought she recognised her mother’s laugh. Could it be? She debated getting up and looking out of her door to see if it was indeed Claudia, and then she heard whispering and giggling. She sat up in bed and listened. Was that Nick? Again, she heard her mother’s laughter. What was Claudia doing, up so late? Was she with Nick? Alison jumped out of her bed and opened the door. She was just in time to see Nick’s bedroom door closing. He’d gone to bed. Where was Claudia? Were they together? She couldn’t really be sure and yet she’d certainly heard her mother’s laugh. Alison went back to bed and lay staring up at the ceiling for ages.

  As she thought about the events of last night, Alison gave the wire she was holding a vicious twist and put the finished rose in the basket with the others. Only about another twenty or so to go. She recalled her mother and Nick flirting at the table. It was completely revolting. She decided that she’d never been so miserable in her whole life, and wondered what her father was doing this New Year’s Day. Not thinking of me, that’s for sure, she told herself.

  The number of roses in the basket was growing. It was such soothing work that a couple of times, her eyes had closed briefly. Once, Ruby looked up and saw her.

  ‘Would you like a bit of a rest?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’ Alison turned back to the flowers. She changed the subject deliberately. ‘I wanted to ask you about Hester. You used to be her dresser when she was a dancer, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, indeed. I’ve known her since she was about your age. She started dancing very young, you know.’

  ‘My mother told me about her before we came. It must have been awful for her to have to stop when she was so famous. I know about the accident. Didn’t she fall over a cliff? In Cornwall?’

  ‘It wasn’t even as dramatic as that but it put an end to her career anyway.’ Ruby sighed. ‘Such a shame. That was in 1966. She was thirty-three and still had a few good years left, I think. She was walking along the cliff path with a friend, well, with Edmund Norland who wrote the music for Sarabande, as a matter of fact, and she just lost her footing. She broke her ankle, very badly and that’s the kind of injury it’s hard to come back from at that age for a dancer.’

  ‘How awful!’ Alison imagined Hester lying with her foot in plaster in a hospital bed, and understood how ghastly that would be for her. ‘That’s so sad.’

  ‘She had … never mind.’

  ‘Please tell me,’ Alison begged. ‘I won’t say a word, really.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have … well, I don’t imagine it matters after all this time. I was going to say she had something like a breakdown just after that. It hurt her dreadfully to have to give up the ballet. It was – it had been – her life for such a long time.’ Ruby smiled suddenly. ‘We should talk about something more cheerful. On the first day of the year, don’t you think?’

  Alison nodded.

  ‘Hugo will be thrilled with those roses,’ Ruby continued. ‘And when we’ve finished those, we can go on to covering garden baskets and things with gold foil. I’ve always got some of that in the props cupboard. There’s another thing I’d like you to help me with, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘No, I don’t mind at all. What is it?’

  ‘On the first night we always have a party and of course we don’t want to do anything too elaborate, but I always try to decorate the place a little. To make up for not having Christmas decorations.’

  ‘I’d love to help,’ said Alison. ‘What sort of thing will we do?’

  ‘Well, I’ve got a lot of rather good branches put aside and I’m just thinking of what we c
ould do with them.’

  ‘I know!’ Alison put down the rose she was making and almost jumped out of her chair. ‘I’ve got an ace idea. Can I do it myself? I’m sure you’ll be ever so busy. You won’t want to be bothered with decorating and things, will you?’

  ‘I’ll have to see,’ Ruby said. ‘It depends on what your idea is!’

  ‘I want it to be a surprise so if I tell you, do you promise to say nothing to anyone else?’

  Ruby laughed. ‘All right, then.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Alison. She made sure to close the door of Wardrobe before she went round to Ruby’s side of the table to tell her. You had to be careful with brilliant ideas. Anyone might be listening.

  *

  ‘Ah, Claudia.’ Hugo was smiling, but she knew him well enough to realise that if they’d been on their own he’d have been snarling at her.

  ‘Don’t say it, darling. I know I’m ghastly late and I’m so sorry. Everyone, I truly am so sorry, but it was such a night last night. I haven’t really recovered yet.’

  She made for one of the chairs pushed against the wall of the rehearsal room and flung her big bag down beside it and sat down as quietly and unobtrusively as she could. She opened the bag and took out her ballet shoes.

  ‘Get your breath back, Claudia,’ said Hugo. ‘We’re all rather behind today and I’ve still got a bit to do with Andy and Ilene.’

  Claudia nodded and sat down. Oh, GodGodGodGodGod, she thought. I am definitely getting too old for this. She’d stood in the shower for about half an hour with the hottest water she could stand pricking her all over before she felt sufficiently together to venture downstairs. Her head was throbbing. That was the booze. I ought to stop drinking, she said to herself. I wish I hadn’t drunk so much. No power on earth could have kept her out of Nick’s bed last night. She didn’t regret it, but there had come a certain point during the New Year’s Eve dinner (and it made her stomach shrink and shrivel into queasiness just to think about that, the goose fat, ugh!) when she’d stopped knowing exactly what was going on.

  What she remembered was Nick leading her upstairs to his room, which was down the far end of the corridor. They seemed to be upright one moment and lying down on the bed the next and after that, her mind really did refuse to function. She’d opened her eyes hours later, and stumbled into the en suite bathroom with a raging thirst. Why had she been so surprised to see Nick, still asleep in the bed she’d just left? She shook him awake.

  Claudia was finding it difficult to think. The music that accompanied Andy’s appearances in Sarabande was plinking and plonking rather too merrily for her liking and her concentration was shot to hell, but she blushed as she recalled what Nick had said to her when they first kissed – how much he wanted her. Nothing had changed, he told her when she was on her way back to her room.

  ‘Why are you going? Come back to bed.’

  ‘You’re joking! All we need is for Hugo to find out. You must promise not to say a single word to anyone. Promise?’

  ‘Keep your hair on,’ Nick said. ‘I won’t utter a squeak. And if you’re really not coming back, then I’m going to sleep. We’ve got dancing to do tomorrow.’

  Now, here they were, and in a moment, she’d have to do some dancing herself and it was the very last thing in the world she felt like doing. She looked at Hugo, taking Ilene through her paces. He’d been so fast asleep when she slipped into bed beside him that she got away with her lie very easily this morning, the one about coming to bed just after he had. ‘You were dead to the world, darling,’ she’d told him. ‘It would have been cruel to wake you up. Even to wish you Happy New Year.’

  ‘One and two and then turn,’ Hugo was saying now. ‘And up to Andy and down to the front of the stage again and turn and back. That’s right. Claudia, are you ready to join in yet?’

  ‘Sure.’ She went to sit on the pile of cushions that was representing the Princess’s bed. Soon she would have to move, to dance. Was she going to be able to do that? She lay back against the pillows. How typical of my luck, she thought. I spend a night with a beautiful young man and I can’t tell anyone about it. And I feel sick. Damn and blast the booze. I am definitely going to stop drinking. Please let me get to the end of the rehearsal without throwing up.

  *

  Alison looked at the tarpaulin thrown over a pile of branches in the space at the back of the garage. Ruby was so reliable. Why couldn’t everyone be like that? Why couldn’t Claudia? She’d told Alison where to find everything, and there it was, in the exact spot that she said it would be, and all neat and carefully covered-up too. She could make a start now, because everyone in the company was busy having class and Ruby herself was up in Wardrobe. Alison had put everything that she thought she needed into a huge carrier bag. She had permission to leave it here in the garage when she’d finished for the day, and to come in and work on her idea whenever she got a chance.

  She put the big scissors down on the floor. This was probably going to take longer than she thought at first, but it didn’t matter. It was restful, this cutting and more cutting, and then deciding where everything was going to go. While she was busy transforming the branches, her mind wandered very pleasantly, and a thought that started on, say, Nick, could easily float off and settle on Silver or Siggy or what they were going to have for lunch. She thought of the tree her dad had drawn in the lullaby book and the verse that was written underneath drifted into her head:

  This is the wish

  of every tree:

  for birds to settle

  among its leaves

  and flutter and cry

  and coo and call …

  It was one of her favourite pictures. The tree took up almost the whole page and there were birds perched on every single branch, hundreds of them. Her dad would love what she was doing to these branches. Maybe someone from the company could take a photo of the decorations. Then she could send it to America. I’ll ask Hugo about it, Alison thought. He’s got a camera.

  *

  Hester felt restless. She sat in Wardrobe, watching Ruby putting everything back in its proper place before going on to the next task. How typical of her that was! She was looking particularly striking today, Hester thought and nearly said so aloud but stopped herself at the last moment, knowing how Ruby hated compliments and how bad she was at acknowledging them. She’s ten years older than me, Hester thought, and even though you couldn’t call her pretty or even handsome, there was something regal about her. She was imposing – tall and strong-featured and wore her glasses, in their pale tortoiseshell frames, almost all the time these days. Ruby’s clothes were always of the very best quality even though there was nothing showy about them. She still made them herself. Her skirts never bagged and were always perfectly lined. There was almost a Ruby uniform: skirts in heathery-coloured tweeds worn with cotton blouses, and cardigans she’d knitted herself. Her shoes were sensibly low-heeled and plain, but highly polished. Hester had never seen her with bare legs. Ruby wore stockings even in the hottest weather.

  She wanted to talk about what was troubling her but didn’t know how to broach it. Instead, she asked, ‘How are the costumes coming on? Will it be all right? I told Hugo it would.’

  Ruby looked up and smiled. ‘Yes, everything’s under control, but you didn’t come all the way over here to talk about costumes. Is something worrying you?’

  ‘Dear Ruby, you know me too well.’ Hester stood up. She went to the window and looked out. She said, ‘I suppose I’m a little nervous about what Edmund’s going to say …’

  ‘About the funeral, you mean?’

  Hester nodded. ‘I’ll have to ask about it and part of me wants to know everything, every detail, but most of me can’t bear to think about it.’

  ‘Do you still…’ Ruby didn’t finish the thought and Hester knew why. She’d never, not in all the years Hester had known her, asked about her feelings for Adam. Hester suspected that there was a part of Ruby that disapproved of her affair with a married ma
n, but she had never spoken about it. Hester said, ‘Do I still love Adam? Is that what you were going to ask? The answer is no, not really. Love? No, I stopped feeling that a long time ago, but…’ She hesitated. ‘I suppose I had to convince myself that he was the love of my life to justify everything I went through. It’s as though, until now, I haven’t been able to breathe properly. To feel properly or think of anyone else in a way that’s unclouded by my love for Adam. It’s hard to explain.’

  ‘I suspect it’s much easier than you think.’ Ruby was concentrating on stitching a frill to the sleeve of the Jester’s shirt, but she looked up and stopped sewing for a moment. ‘I think you don’t have to consider what you feel about him. He’s not a part of your life any longer. I think Adam’s death has made you free. For the first time in years.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps you’re right. I am free and I feel it, but that’s what they say about people who spend too long in prison, don’t they? That the real world seems a scary place. That prison has become safe in a strange way and the freedom frightens them. I think I’m like that. I feel I can move on, but what lies ahead makes me a little nervous.’

  ‘I know it’s not my business, Hester, but I’ll say it all the same. I think it would be a sad thing for you to end your life all on your own.’

  ‘I’m not on my own! I’ve got you. And George. And Edmund. And such a busy life with the master classes. And the festival – all those dancers every year.’

  Ruby didn’t answer. Hester said, ‘You think I’ll grow old all by myself, don’t you, rather like Madame Olga.’

  ‘I hope not. That’s all I’m saying.’

  Madame Olga had always been an awkward subject between them; a subject to be avoided. Hester knew that Ruby didn’t like her, but had never been able to discover why this was. Ruby was now bent over the Jester’s shirt again and her face had taken on that closed look it often wore when the past came up in conversation. Hester knew there was nothing to be done about it.

  ‘I’ll be off now, leave you in peace. See you later, Ruby.’