Hester's Story (19 page)

‘My mother says that in companies she’s been in, the other dancers aren’t really friendly. She says they’d cheerfully trip you up in the wings for a chance to take your part, most of them.’

‘I expect there are always folk like that, whatever job you’re in. It’s not something particular to the ballet.’ She took some hangers off the rails and began putting them into a wicker skip in the corner.

‘I must get on, Alison. It’s been lovely talking to you, and if you ever feel like helping me, I’d be glad of the company. There’s always plenty to do. Are you good with a needle? You’d be amazed how many rips the dancers make in their costumes, even over a short run. And I like to wash things before a production,’ she explained. ‘Everything gets dusty hanging up here, even if it looks clean. That’s why this lot is going in the skip. George’ll help to take it down to the laundry room in the basement. He’s my husband,’ she added.

Alison glanced out of one of the small windows. She could see the path up to the house.

‘It’s really nice here, but I should go back now,’ she said. ‘My mum’ll wonder where I’ve gone, I expect.’

‘Then I’ll come with you and lock up.’

They went down the stairs together. Looking at everything in Wardrobe had distracted her for a while, but now she remembered: Ruby had definitely been crying before. What was that about? It always came as a shock to Alison when adults wept. Claudia didn’t count. She burst into tears all the time, and often for no good reason, but people who dressed like Ruby and looked sensible and who seemed so
together
didn’t usually cry. She was so easy to talk to. Alison had never spoken to anyone about what her mother
thought of her, but Ruby invited it by wanting to listen, by looking really interested in what you were saying. She wasn’t the sort of person, though, who’d want to let you know what was troubling her. You could tell.

*

Alison decided to go to the first rehearsal. For one thing, she didn’t have anything else to do. After she came back from Wardrobe, she’d looked for Siggy, but couldn’t find him in any of the public rooms. He must have gone to the private bit of the house where she wasn’t allowed to follow him. She didn’t feel like being the only person in the whole of Wychwood House, when everyone else was at the Arcadia. You couldn’t call it spooky or anything, but still. It might be quite lonely and, anyway, it would be interesting to see what Hester wore during the day. If her dressing-gown was anything to go by, it would be something spectacular.

There was a chair pushed up against the wall, in the corner, and Alison sat down on that. It was like being back at school, she thought. Everyone else was already sitting down. They’d arranged themselves in a rough circle in the middle of the room. They were all waiting for Hester to appear – all except for her mother. What had become of her?

She looked at each person in turn. Andy French was like a good-looking elf, with slanting eyes and a rather pointed nose. He had a wicked smile and Alison reckoned he was probably the company joker. She’d met someone like him in every school she’d been to, someone who loved gossiping, talking back to the teacher (or Hugo, Alison thought, in this case). Someone who enjoyed sending people up and generally creating mischief. They were okay, jokers, as long as they liked you.

Ilene Nolan and Silver McConnell sat together, chatting quietly. Ilene was tiny and very fair and Silver, Alison decided, was like someone out of a movie. Alison was used to ballet dancers, and took their grace for granted, but Silver, in black tights and long-sleeved leotard, made everyone else look clumsy. Alison felt like a sack of potatoes just looking at her. She turned towards the door, expecting Claudia to come through it at any moment. She couldn’t have overslept, because Hugo would have woken her up. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well? Perhaps, Alison thought, I ought to go and look for her.

The men were dressed in shabby-looking sweatshirts and ancient tracksuit bottoms, and they had sports bags which now lay under a table in a corner of the room.

‘God, everyone, sorry sorry sorry …’ The door next to where Alison was sitting flew open and a man stood in the doorway. He waited till everyone was looking at him, and only came forward when Hugo waved him to a chair. Alison watched him as he sat down. This must be Nick Neary. He was the only member of the company she hadn’t met. He was very good-looking, with light brown hair, highlighted with ash-blonde streaks. His eyes were greenish-blue, like sea water. Hugo got up then and coughed a little, which meant he was going to say something.

He came to the centre of the circle of chairs to speak. Alison tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but her gaze kept straying to where Nick was sitting. She made a big effort and looked at Hugo instead.

He was very tall and thin, like a rather elegant bird. He had dark eyes and hair, rather sharp features, a high forehead and a wide mouth and he always wore the same clothes, dark polo necks and dark trousers. You couldn’t call him handsome exactly, Alison
thought, but he had a smile which changed his whole face. He looked round at everyone, and then began to talk about the ballet.

‘
Sarabande
is a fairytale,’ he said. ‘As you all know, I’ve choreographed it around a piece of music by Edmund Norland called
Sarabande
. It’s quite a short piece, so the jazz composer, Frank Marron, has devised some wonderful variations on the original. For the performances, we’re very lucky to have the Mike Spreckley Trio accompanying us on piano, bass and drums. They’re fantastically in demand, as you know, but they’ll be here in time for the dress rehearsal. What that means is that you won’t have too much opportunity to dance to live music, but I’ve got a good tape till the guys arrive. All of you will soon get to know every note better than anything you’ve ever heard, I promise you. It’s great stuff. Claudia is the Princess, Ilene is her Nursemaid, Andy is the Fool, naturally,’ – here Hugo paused for laughter, which arrived on cue – ‘Nick is the Lover and Silver McConnell is the Angel. You’ll all know Silver by reputation of course, and we’re very lucky that she’s got the time in her schedule to dance with us at this Festival.’

Alison watched Silver bend her head to acknowledge the smiles that everyone was beaming at her. She wondered why Hugo didn’t seem bothered about her mother’s absence. Maybe they’d had a row and she’d told him she wasn’t coming. Hugo went back to talking about
Sarabande
.

‘There’s not that much of a story, really. It’s just a fable about a princess who has to decide between the pleasures of the world and love and so forth, and the attractions of death. No contest there, really, but the piece does emphasise something we don’t often see on a stage, and that’s how attractive the idea of death can sometimes be. The action is divided into ten scenes.
None of these lasts more than ten minutes. I’ll go over them with the individual dancers later when we map out the rehearsal schedule but, basically the Princess is urged by her Nursemaid to go out and enjoy life; the Fool shows her all sorts of diversions; the Nursemaid tries to persuade her of the joys of domesticity and marriage; the Princess meets the Lover; they fall in love; they dance with the Nursemaid and then with the Fool. Then the Angel of Death makes an appearance and tries to seduce the Princess away from the Lover. The Lover and the Angel dance together, vying for the Princess’s favours. She chooses Love in the end, and the Angel has a final farewell solo. Then the others rejoice; the Princess and the Lover have a
pas de deux
which merges into an ensemble dance for the finale. And in a sort of coda, the Angel and the Princess dance together when the Lover is asleep, each of them knowing, of course, that they will meet again when Death returns to claim her at the end of her life.

‘Shortish ballets are the tradition at Wychwood, and of course we start at half past seven so that after the performance there’s time for people to get back to civilisation before the restaurants shut. And on the first night, of course, there’s the Twelfth Night party that Hester traditionally hosts for the company, Friends of the Arcadia and other honoured guests. She does, by the way, like being called Hester rather than Miss Fielding.’

‘How come you know so much, Hugo?’ Andy asked. ‘I thought you moved in the real world with the rest of us plebs, not in these posh circles. I’m a bit of a fish out of water, me. All this grandeur. Not my usual scene, I can tell you.’

Hugo laughed. ‘I came to last year’s first night, just to get to know the set-up. It’s been an ambition of mine to win the Wychwood competition and I can’t
tell you how thrilled I am to be here, and with such amazingly talented dancers, too. No, I mean it. This is going to be a tremendous production, but I’ll just say this. I expect one hundred percent commitment from all of you. All the time. I don’t have any patience with slackers, as those of you who’ve been in the company for some time know very well. In return, of course, I’m at your disposal whenever you want to talk things over, or ask questions and so forth. Okay?’

He paused to see if anyone had anything to say, but everyone was nodding and smiling so he carried on. Had they all noticed that Claudia hadn’t arrived yet? That, Alison thought, didn’t show one hundred percent commitment, but she was sure that Hugo wouldn’t quarrel with her in front of the others. He carried on with his talk. ‘The set’s been designed by Aubrey Godfeld, and later on you can all have a look at the model. It’s in the props room. It’s simply beautiful. I felt we had to make up for the simplicity of the story and the brevity of the piece by going all out for lavish decor and costumes.’

‘When’ll those be arriving, Hugo?’ Ilene asked.

‘Should be here the day after tomorrow. You’ll have a good few days to get used to them, don’t worry. Right, are there any questions?’ Hugo glanced at his watch. ‘Hester will be coming to welcome us all officially in a moment. She’ll also take the first class. That’s another tradition.’

‘I knew about that one!’ said Andy. ‘I read an article about her in a magazine somewhere. Look, I’ve worn my untorn T-shirt in her honour!’

He stood up and did a pirouette and everyone laughed. People began pushing the chairs back against the walls and getting the room ready for Hester’s arrival. The men had taken off their tracksuit bottoms and stuffed them into their bags. Everyone was now
wearing leotards and tights and Alison watched Nick in his beige T-shirt and black tights and wondered what it would be like to have him as a dancing partner.

Ballet dancers took ages getting ready. It was always such a palaver. They had to change their shoes, tie up ribbons on those shoes, get their hair out of the way in elasticated hairbands, and on and on.

‘Hester’s coming,’ Hugo said over his shoulder. He held the door open and she walked in, smiling and glancing from one person to another. She went to stand next to Hugo who stepped forward to introduce her.

‘Right, everyone. This is Hester Fielding, and she needs no introduction from me. I know I speak for everyone when I say how thrilled and proud we are to be here, and how determined to make this year’s festival the very best ever. Hester’s going to say a few words and also very kindly take the first class. Ladies and gentlemen, Hester Fielding.’

Hester, Alison saw, wasn’t in anything half as magnificent as the dressing-gown she’d worn last night, but still, she seemed like a person from a magazine. Her trousers were black and silky and with them she wore a high-necked sweater of very soft blueish-mauve wool. She stood up very straight and managed to have her hands in a position that made them look beautiful. I’d never know where to put my hands if I had to get up and make a speech in front of everyone, Alison thought.

Hester began to speak in a soft, rather low voice. Alison sort of listened, but she was also looking at everyone and seeing if she could work out what they thought about everything. Silver was gazing at Hester with something like adoration in her eyes. Ilene and Andy were leaning forward as though they could learn
how to be living legends like Hester Fielding just by listening to her.

‘Hello, everyone. I’m really delighted to welcome you all to Wychwood House and the Arcadia Theatre, and I won’t bore you with a lot of talk, but I just want to say this: please treat the house as your home and be very happy while you get the ballet ready. I’ll take this first class, but then I’ll leave you to your own devices, so that I can have a wonderful surprise at the dress rehearsal. I’m going to find it really hard not to sneak in and watch rehearsals because I’m always so curious to see how everything’s coming on, but I
am
rather busy organising the master classes that start here in February. So have a wonderful time, all of you, and thank you for coming to Wychwood. I’m sure
Sarabande
is going to be wonderful.’

Alison applauded with the rest. It’s odd, she thought. I haven’t been a bit bored, and I’m glad I came and didn’t stay behind in the house all by myself. She noticed that the dancers had begun to warm up at the
barre
, bending and stretching. Look at Silver, she thought. How can anyone get their body to do that? She’d put one leg up on the rail and then leaned her whole body forward over it, so that her head was touching her knee. The others were touching the floor with their hands, or practising yoga-type lunges to loosen up.

Then Nick caught sight of her looking at him and came over to where she was sitting.

‘Hello!’ he said and smiled right at her. ‘I don’t think I know you, do I? I’m Nick Neary. What’s your name?’

‘Alison Drake. I’m Claudia’s daughter.’

‘Oh, right. Hugo did say she was bringing a kid. I thought he meant a little kid. Silly of me. Do you like ballet?’

Alison hesitated. It wouldn’t do to be too honest.

‘I don’t mind it sometimes. I’ve never thought of doing it myself though.’

(Oh, God, you stupid thing. How could you say something so mad? As if anyone with an ounce of sense would imagine someone as fat and galumphing as you wanting to be a ballet dancer!)

‘I often think of doing all sorts of other things, actually. Like being a film star. That would be far less work, I’m sure.’