by Adle Geras
1953
Everywhere she looked, Hester could see nothing but grey. The grey Promenade or Front or whatever they called it, followed by the grey sea, and then more grey in the sky. The wind seemed to be taking lumps of water and flinging them against the panes of the Sunporch, and Hester drew her cardigan more closely round her shoulders. I should be out there, she thought. She imagined the storm blowing in her face, imagined the spray stinging her cheeks, and longed to run out from behind the glass and straight into the freezing gale. I could cry and no one would even notice. The Front was deserted. No one with any sense came down to Brighton in February. If I ran out there, Madame Olga would stop me, she told herself, and besides, I have to appear normal. I have to seem as though I’m recovering. I’ve been brought here to recover. I am supposed to be getting over it.
Madame Olga had offered her the South of France, Spain, somewhere hot.
‘You need to recuperate, my darling,’ she told Hester. ‘You need sunshine. To lie in the sun and get the heat in your bones.’
‘No, no sun,’ Hester said. She wanted the cold. She wanted to step into a block of ice and stay there forever. ‘But please as far away from Gullane as possible.’
Brighton was as distant from Scotland as you could get before falling into the sea, and she and Madame Olga were now residents of the White Cliffs Hotel, which was hardly the Royal Albion or the Grand, but which was quiet and pleasant enough. They had taken two adjoining rooms with full board for a whole month, and even after a week Hester wondered how she was going to survive the days.
Madame Olga loved the Sunporch, a kind of enclosed balcony furnished with overstuffed armchairs and small tables, and they spent a great deal of time there, with Hester staring at the vast swathe of steel-grey water stretching out before her and wishing that she could walk into it and never come back to the shore. The Sunporch was the pride and joy of Mrs Norrington, the manageress, and she regarded those few old people who sometimes sat there with maternal benevolence. For Hester, she had nothing but awed admiration. Madame Olga had exaggerated Hester’s fame as a ballerina and the ‘ill-health’ that she was presently suffering and, as a consequence, they were being very well looked after.
Today, for example, Edmund was coming to tea. That meal was usually taken in the Residents’ Lounge, but Mrs Norrington had said, ‘For you, Madame Rakovska, I’m happy to serve it on the Sunporch. I’ll keep an eye on comings and goings and as soon as your guest arrives, I’ll bring everything in.’
‘She is expecting maybe someone famous,’ Madame Olga said, peering through the rain-streaked windows, on the lookout. ‘And I did not tell her it was only Edmund, of course. Let her have some pleasant anticipations, yes?’
Hester nodded. Did she want to see Edmund? He had written to her often, begging her to let him come and talk to her; asking to see her over and over again until she had no strength left to say no. Now that she’d agreed, however, she no longer knew whether she was capable of sitting in a room and behaving normally. Part of her wanted to see him. She longed for someone who wasn’t bound up in her agony to tell her about the rest of the world, about everything that was happening that wasn’t about her, how she felt, how much she was hurting. But I don’t know if I’m ready, she thought. A kind of panic was making it very hard for her to breathe. What will I say? How will I greet him? She blinked very hard to stop the already gathering tears from falling. Then she sat up a little straighter.
Don’t be a fool. It’s Edmund, she told herself. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It will be wonderful to see him. I want to be comforted.
‘I think,’ Madame Olga was standing with her face almost pressed up against the glass, ‘I think it is, yes, it is, Edmund, and …’
There were two men coming through the revolving doors. One of them was Edmund, hatless even in this weather and behind him … it was only two steps from the entrance to the Sunporch and there he was, behind Edmund and striding towards her.
Hester closed her eyes. If I don’t open them for a very long time, she thought, it won’t be true. If I stop breathing now, this instant, then I’ll never have to open my eyes and look at him. If it is him. It is. It’s Adam. Edmund has brought Adam here. Brought him to see me without telling me. Without asking my permission.
The fury, the rage. It was as though someone had set a match to everything that she was, everything she felt, and had burned her heart to ashes.
‘Hester, Hester darling,’ Edmund said and hugged her, pressing her against his coat. Hester stood there, stiff and angry, unable to speak. ‘I’ve brought Adam, Hester. He … I thought it best if we could, well, you know. Meet. And speak. Have tea or something.’
He laughed, but without mirth, and still Hester said nothing. She sat down on her chair and didn’t lift her eyes from the carpet. One huge red flower merged into another and Hester concentrated on those. Don’t look up, she told herself. Don’t meet his eyes. But here he was, sitting down in the chair next to her. How did he dare? How could he? How could Edmund do such a thing? Of course he hadn’t consulted her. He knew very well what her response would have been.
I can’t stay here, she thought. I can’t have tea with Edmund and Adam. I am not going to talk about what happened. I refuse. Mrs Norrington was in the Sunporch now, and two young women were following her, carrying cake stands and tea trays. Hester looked at her own hands in horror.
‘Darling Hester,’ said Madame Olga, ‘we will drink some tea and then we will talk. Yes, I will go and let you speak with your friends alone. This is what you wish, isn’t it?’
‘No,’ Hester said. She was aware, as she was often aware when she was on stage, of being somehow outside her own body. Here is a young woman and she is about to make a scene. She is going to make a spectacle of herself. She can’t help it. If she doesn’t say what she thinks, her heart will explode. She is not going to behave well. She turned to Edmund.
‘Edmund, I thought I could trust you and I see I can’t. I don’t want to have tea with you. How could you? How could you have thought … You knew, you knew I wouldn’t want to see him.’
Until that moment, she’d kept her eyes turned away from Adam. In that first glimpse of him in the doorway, she’d absorbed everything about him, the hollow cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes. Good, she thought. He looks as though he hasn’t slept for weeks and I hope that’s true. But now I must say something to him. She took a deep breath and moved till she was standing in front of him.
‘Adam,’ she said, and as she spoke she surprised herself by how calm she sounded. ‘I didn’t want to see you ever again, but Edmund has done this and it can’t be undone. I still don’t want to see you. We had a son, and he died. That’s all I have to say to you. Goodbye.’
‘Hester, please,’ Adam spoke and his voice made her shiver. ‘Please speak to me. Please sit down.’
The calmness left her. She could feel every word tearing at her throat. ‘Don’t you dare to tell me when I should sit and when I should speak. I don’t want to speak to you. There’s nothing to say. Go away and don’t come near me ever, ever again.’
She turned to Edmund and went on screaming. ‘And I don’t want to see you either, Edmund. You’re always so sure you know what to do and what’s best and this isn’t. Do you hear me? This is not best. You’ve hurt me and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to—’
She couldn’t continue. She ran out of the Sunporch and through the revolving doors and out on to the Front before anyone could stop her. Good, good, she thought. Let it blow. Let it blow me away. She ran towards the sea and the wind pulled at her clothes and twisted her hair and tossed salt spray into her face where it mixed with the tears that were pouring down her cheeks. Oh, Edmund, Edmund, she thought. What have you done? Why did you bring him? How will I ever be able to speak to you again, when all I feel is fury and betrayal?
‘Hester?’ There he was, bloody Edmund, always trying to help. ‘Hester, you can’t do this. You’ll catch pneumonia. Co
me back inside. He’s gone. Adam’s gone. He won’t come back. I’m sorry.’
She let herself be led inside after a while. I’ve become, she thought, like one of those shells down on the seashore, thin and white and hollowed-out. Sorry, Edmund kept saying, sorry, as though that were any help at all. Hester wondered whether a time would ever come when she’d be able to forgive him.
2 January 1987
Hester stood at the window of the Office just after breakfast and thought, if you were to design the perfect winter day it would look exactly like what she could see at this moment. The sky was cloudless, and so pale a blue that it was nearer to white or silver. The temperature had fallen overnight, and on every blade of grass, every branch and leaf, the frost glittered and shone in the misty sunshine. The highest parts of the moors in the distance were covered with snow. There was even a bird – perched Christmas-card style on the gate – a robin? It was hard to see from where she was. She was happy that Edmund would see Wychwood looking its absolute winter best.
She could sense her heart beating rather more quickly than usual. Edmund … This is ridiculous, she thought, I’ve known him for over thirty years. We’ve been through so many things together. I’m not going to sit here waiting. I’ll go for a walk, just up to the end of the village and back.
She put on her boots and coat and left the house, walking quickly and breathing in the clear air to calm herself. She recalled the bleak months that followed the only time in her life when she and Edmund had quarrelled. Those days were so lonely, she thought. For both of us. Poor Edmund not only had me refusing to see him but also quarrelled with Adam. When she and Edmund had at last put what happened in Brighton behind them, he confessed to her that Adam had also felt betrayed. He said he thought you’d agreed, said Edmund. He said I told him you had, which I didn’t. I would never have done that.
It might be ages before he gets here, she thought. The last postcard she’d had from him wasn’t very specific. The message on the back read, Will be with you as soon as I can on Jan. 2nd. Can’t wait to see you. All my love. Really. Edmund.
She noticed that the gates were standing open as she walked back to Wychwood. Did that mean he was here already? Hester started to walk up the drive, and then she saw him. He was standing next to his car, holding his arms out. She flung herself at him and felt herself folded into his embrace. Then she burst into tears, unable to hold down what she was feeling for a moment longer.
‘Oh, God, Edmund, I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I’m so … oh, I must stop. I’m so happy to see you. That’s it. I’m so relieved you’re here.’
‘Hester, darling! How lovely to see you. It’s all right. I’m here now!’
Hester couldn’t speak. She allowed herself to relax in Edmund’s embrace for a moment and then stepped back. She smiled weakly. ‘Crying into your coat again! How many garments of yours have I ruined over the years?’ She smiled. ‘Let’s go inside. I’ve missed you. And it’s freezing.’
*
Silver was making an effort to put everything but the music out of her head. She and Hugo were alone in the rehearsal room, and she was going through the fiendish sequence of steps that he’d devised for the Angel’s solo, which just happened to come immediately before her pas de deux with Nick. There were the jetés en tournant, a whole run of entrechats and, in addition, there was the vibration that Hugo wanted for her arms. She’d pointed out to him that it was going to be a bit of a problem having wings, which would certainly interfere with her sightlines when she was trying to fix on a point during the turns. That was a challenge even without this new vibration idea he’d come up with. She’d tried to explain how hard it was going to be, all that turning; was there any other reason for having so much except to show off the wonderful wings she was going to be wearing? She’d asked Hugo and he’d explained.
‘I want you to be airborne. The vibrations are to show the movement of air in your wings. I want your dancing to be almost like flight.’
‘If you wanted flight, you should have hired a bird,’ she muttered under her breath the last time they’d been through the routine.
‘I heard that, Silver,’ said Hugo. He was smiling. She didn’t know any longer what she thought of him, which didn’t make life easier. It would have been much simpler if she could hate him. Then she’d have been much ruder. I’m not afraid of being sharp with people, she thought, but it’s very hard not to like Hugo.
She bent and swayed and fixed her eyes on a black mark on the far wall of the rehearsal room and went into the whirling storm of turns, all done en pointe and at top speed. She knew not many other dancers would have been capable of what she was trying to do. Hugo thought she was capable of it because she’d done so well with the famous thirty-two fouettés in Swan Lake. Okay, here goes, she thought. The arms. Trembling in the arms and don’t lose your footing. Keep it steady. Listen to the rhythm. Round and round and listen to the beat and fly and fly and round and round and more and more and shiver the arms and lift them and float and leap and again and again. Silver had disappeared and there was nothing but a body moving through space; nothing but the body and the music and a burning sensation in every part of her lungs.
‘You’ve done it!’ He was hugging her in his delight and Silver felt her heart thumping in her chest. She was covered in sweat. Her face was running with it. She leaned against Hugo’s chest and stayed there for a moment. He was still speaking. ‘I knew you could! I knew you were better than you thought you were, better than everyone told you you were, and I’ve proved it.’
He stepped back a little and took hold of her hands. ‘Have I been a most frightful bully, Silver?’
‘No, not a bully. But demanding. You’ve been bloody demanding. And bossy. You always think you know best, like most choreographers.’
‘Well, I do!’ Hugo laughed. ‘I do know best. About Sarabande, anyway. And about you.’
He was looking at her in a way that made her feel most peculiar. She suddenly had the impression that it was getting increasingly difficult to breathe. She and Hugo were standing very close to one another and she could feel the warmth of his body. Was she imagining it? Where was the cheeky remark that she should have made almost at once? Silver found that she had no words ready to say. Nothing in her head except a sudden, silly desire to be held by him. Stop it, she told herself. Grow up and behave. He’s practically married to Claudia. He’s never shown the slightest interest in you except professionally. Don’t let yourself be carried away simply because you’re feeling good about having achieved something well-nigh impossible. She looked at him. ‘I hope I can do it again, Hugo. What if I can’t? What if that’s it?’
‘You’ll do it again. You’ll do it better. I have the utmost faith in you, Silver.’
He put out a hand and touched her hair, just at the nape of her neck, stroking it a little.
‘I’ll see you at lunch, Silver. Ilene and Andy’ll be here in a minute. Thank you.’
‘Yes, see you later.’
*
Hester got up to draw the curtains against the gathering dusk and the lamp on her desk cast a golden light into the room, dispersing some of the shadows. Edmund had joined the company for lunch and everyone had been thrilled to bits to have the composer of their ballet sitting with them.
‘It’s such terrific music to dance to,’ Andy told him and Nick and Ilene nodded in agreement. Hester heard Claudia saying, ‘You obviously understand women so well,’ and she was practically purring. It wasn’t surprising. Edmund was still handsome. He’d put on a little weight but Hester thought that it suited him. He looked solid and healthy. His eyes were just as blue as they ever were and the fair hair that used to fall over his brow was grey now and cut shorter.
Now everyone was in rehearsal and the house was quiet.
‘Tell me about the funeral, Edmund,’ she said.
‘It was a very moving ceremony. Very cold at the actual burial, but a great many people were there. I didn’t realise they had so many
friends in America.’
Hester listened to him speaking and when he’d finished she said, ‘Thank you so much for telling me, Edmund. I’m not good at funerals. Do you mind if we talk about something else now?’
‘There’s just one thing though.’ Edmund hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, Hester. This might be painful. I’ve got a letter for you. I suppose I could have left it until after the first night, but I want you to read it now. I think it’s important that you …’ He hesitated again before taking a deep breath and going on. ‘I think I’ve been wanting to say something like this to you for years, Hester, and never could till now. Adam’s dead and you have to face that fact.’
‘I have faced it, Edmund. What do you mean? I haven’t been … I haven’t thought about him for years.’
‘That might be how it’s appeared to you, but for me, well, let’s just say I always knew that Adam was still very much alive in your thoughts.’
‘How could you have known? I said nothing. Nothing at all.’ And, she thought to herself, you were otherwise occupied with one or another of your women, anyway.
‘I watch you, Hester. I’ve been watching you since you were a young girl. I see things you think you’re hiding. I want you to read this letter, whatever it says. I think you’ll feel better after you’ve faced whatever’s in it.’
‘Have you read it?’
‘No, of course not. The envelope was addressed to me, but what I found when I opened it was another sealed envelope and that’s got your name on it, as you can see. Virginia gave it to me after the funeral. She found it among Adam’s things and it wouldn’t have occurred to her that it might be for you. Or if it did, she hid it very well.’ Edmund took an envelope from the breast pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. ‘Shall I go? D’you want to be by yourself?’
‘No, please stay. I’m fine.’ Hester took the folded page of thick, cream paper out of the envelope. The sight of Adam’s handwriting made her throat close up. She shut her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.