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Authors: Adèle Geras

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BOOK: Hester's Story
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‘Be careful, Hester.’ Dinah looked grave. ‘I mean it. You could be hurt so badly.’

‘I will be, I promise,’ Hester said. ‘And I’ll try not to be hurt.’

Hester was doing her best to sound normal when she
didn’t feel normal at all. This, what she was experiencing now, was more like suffering from a fever. She should have felt happy but she was miserable. At least Dinah knew what was going on now. The shame, the secrecy that would have to surround any relationship with Adam would be hard to bear. She could never tell Madame Olga about him, that was certain. She was in London for the first night of
Giselle
but Hester knew her opinions about love in general and for dancers in particular. It was, she often said, a disease dancers should never allow themselves to catch. She’d been warning Hester against it for years. And now Dinah had warned her all over again. Adam was married. I ought to tell him I won’t see him but I can’t. I want to see him. I don’t care if it is only over a dinner table. Adam Lennister. She repeated his name in her head, over and over again.

*

Hester stood in the wings and closed her eyes. She blushed with pleasure as she remembered the bouquet of cream roses that had been delivered to the dressing room just half an hour ago. Nell had searched out one of the big vases that were kept in the props department and joked about a secret admirer because there had been no card with the flowers. I know who they’re from, Hester thought. No one but Adam would have sent them, and only he wouldn’t have put his name on a card, for all the obvious reasons. I won’t think about that side of it, Hester thought. Not now. All that matters is, he’s here. He’s going to be looking at me soon. She would dance every step, every single one, just for him. She shook her head. The ballet had started. The
corps
in their peasant costumes were celebrating the harvest. It was time for her to forget about everything but what she had to do on stage.

The familiar music swelled into the auditorium and filled the darkness around her. Her heart was beating very fast. The skirt of her costume was striped in pale green and white, her blouse was white, with a modest round neck, and around her waist she wore a wide, tightly laced black belt that emphasised her slimness.
Grand-mère’
s chain had been judged by Piers too delicate to use as the chain Loys gives to Giselle. She’d left it in an empty cleansing-cream tin in the cigar box she used for all her make-up. This was where she always hid it when she was performing. Hester took a deep breath and stepped out into the light.

*

Madame Olga said she cried all through the ballet. She was still dabbing at her eyes when she came backstage to congratulate Hester.

‘Superb! Superb!’ she said. ‘I can die a happy woman now that I have seen you dancing Giselle. You were so touching! Such pain, in the mad scene. And the flower! Ah, that was something very special.’

‘Thank you,’ Hester said, catching Madame Olga’s eye in the mirror. She was taking off her make-up. The performance had exhausted her. Not the dancing so much as the emotion. That’s because I’m feeling so much of what Giselle feels, she told herself, and shivered as she remembered the petals falling off the flower and on to the stage:
he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me
.

Piers, who was also in the dressing room, praised the whole company. ‘I think the reviews will be wonderful, my dears. They will doubtless say you’re a star, Hester, and you must remember that half the time they don’t know what they’re talking about. You mustn’t believe the good things and you also mustn’t believe the bad things the critics say. I’m the only one you should pay
attention to, because I’m the one who knows when you’re dancing up to your best standard.’

‘And was my Giselle up to scratch?’

‘It’ll do, my dear. It’ll do!’ He smiled at her as he left the room, and according to Dinah what he’d said was high praise.

After much talk and laughter, all the others went off to celebrate at Gino’s. Dinah was the last to leave. She looked closely at Hester and asked, ‘Are you all right? You’re in a dream half the time these days. We’re off now. Are you coming? Shall I wait for you?’

‘No, I’m fine. I’ll be there in a moment. It’s just that it takes it out of you, all that
feeling
on stage. I need time to recover.’

The room felt echoey after Dinah had gone. The costumes hanging on a rail under the window were like ghosts – different colours, different textures, but each one bringing to mind the person who’d just discarded it; something that only a short while ago had been part of a living and moving body and was now still and silent. All the ballet shoes had been put away on the shoe shelf. They were lined up together – black and white satin, brown leather, and mauve silk for the Wilis – and looked like pretty flowers, with their ribbons tied neatly around them. The fragrance of talcum powder and several perfumes hung in the air. She was alone. She didn’t have to pretend any more.

She rubbed cream into her face and gazed at the roses which seemed to her to be almost luminous. Adam. Not tomorrow but the next day, after the performance, she was going to have dinner with him. And that’s all, she told herself. Nothing else. No one can possibly object to me eating with him. I’ll behave well. I’ll be careful. Dinah will be proud of me. She wiped the grease off her face and put on her street clothes.

*

On the third night of the run, when they were in the wings together just before the first act curtain, Dinah said, ‘Oh, my word! Just guess who’s sitting out front.’

‘Who?’ Hester put her eye to the tiny gap in the stage-left edge of the curtain through which the cast always examined the audience before a performance.

‘There, in the fourth row. It’s him, isn’t it?’

‘He’s been to every performance.’

‘It’s tonight, isn’t it? You’re going to dinner with him.’

Hester nodded. ‘His wife’s in the country.’

‘And if she was in London, I’m sure she’d be joining you, wouldn’t she?’

‘Stop it, Dinah! You know she wouldn’t.’

‘I’m not going to say another word, Hester. But do take care.’

‘I’m sick to death of being warned, Dinah. I know what you think. But I can’t help it. I want to see him again.’

*

They went to a small Italian restaurant a long way away from the theatre. Adam had sent her a letter telling her exactly where his black car would be parked.

‘I’m so sorry about the cloak and dagger stuff,’ he said, turning his head to smile at her as they drove off.

‘I understand,’ Hester said, and then couldn’t think of anything else to say. For a wild moment she thought, this isn’t going to work. We have nothing in common. He’s too old. What will we talk about?

Adam broke into her thoughts. ‘It’s awkward, isn’t it? Knowing how to begin a conversation with someone who you feel you know so well and yet really
don’t know at all. Do I sound as though I’ve taken leave of my senses?’

‘No,’ said Hester. ‘I feel just the same. As though I know you very well, but I don’t, do I?’

‘I’ve been out front every night, you know.’

‘Yes, I’ve seen you. We’ve got a hole in the curtain we look through. We get quite a good view of who’s in the audience.’

‘Did you look for me?’

Hester nodded, unable to speak.

‘Right,’ said Adam. ‘This is it. I hope you like Italian food.’

‘Yes, lovely,’ said Hester, reflecting that she didn’t care what the food was. They were going to sit at a table together and talk and she’d be able to gaze at him as much as she wanted. She was determined to enjoy every second of their time together.

*

‘Tell me all about it,’ Dinah whispered as Hester crept into bed. ‘I’ve not been able to get to sleep. You’re awfully late.’

‘Can’t tell you now. We’ll wake Nell up.’

‘Rubbish! You know you could play a trombone in her ear and not wake her. Come on, I want to know every single detail.’

‘There’s nothing to tell. We talked, that’s all.’

‘What about?’

‘His schooldays. He and Edmund were at school together. We talked about his work and how difficult it is to sit down every day and just write and how he wished that writers were like ballet dancers and could have the discipline of class. That made us laugh – the idea of a writers’ class. Pens out, in first position. Paper in fifth position. Eyes down.’ She giggled.

‘Hilarious!’ said Dinah. ‘Clearly you had to be there to get the full effect.’

‘You’re the one who asked. I’m happy to stop right there.’

‘No, I’m sorry, truly. Go on. What else?’

‘He wanted to know about me. No one else has ever asked me so many questions. I told him all about my grandmother. I’ve never spoken to anyone about that, about how I felt when I left her. I nearly started to cry.’

‘And he consoled you? Put his arm around you?’

‘No, he was on the other side of the table. And I controlled myself before it got too bad.’

‘Did he kiss you good night when you parted?’

‘Yes, but just a kiss on the cheek. Very proper.’

She was lying. She was still reliving that scene in her mind, over and over again. How he’d walked her from the car to the porch. It was so late that no one would see them, she knew.

‘Good night, Hester,’ he’d said and leaned down to kiss her on the lips. It was the lightest of kisses, and yet she felt it like a brand, burning into her flesh. ‘Till next time.’ She’d had to restrain herself. She’d wanted to ask, when is the next time? When will I see you again? He said, ‘Tomorrow. Can you come out with me tomorrow? I feel like camping outside the theatre and waiting all through the night. But I won’t. I won’t embarrass you. I’ll wait patiently.’

Dinah said: ‘Are you seeing him again?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘And the next day, I daresay.’

‘If he asks me.’

Dinah sighed. ‘You’re a lost cause. The damage is done.’

‘What do you mean? What damage?’

‘You’re too far gone to come back again. That’s what I think.’

Hester didn’t answer because what Dinah said was true. She
was
too far gone. She said, ‘I must try and sleep now, or I’ll be a wreck tomorrow and so will you and Piers will kill us.’

‘You’re right. I’m off to sleep and I advise you to do the same. If you can. Sweet dreams.’

‘Night!’ Hester stared into the darkness and thought about Adam. She ran a finger over her mouth and shivered. Dinah’s right, she thought. I won’t be able to turn away from him. I should, I know I should, but if he wants me, I won’t be able to stop myself. She tried to imagine how it would be when she saw him again. She was sure he would kiss her. Yes, he would kiss her. Her mouth fell open and her eyes closed and she abandoned herself to fantasies that made her tremble and feel hot all over.

*

‘Where are we going?’ Hester peered through the windscreen. They were travelling in Adam’s car along the Embankment but a yellowish mist hid every familiar landmark, veiling the glitter of the lights along the river.

‘I’m taking you to the flat. I’m going to cook for you tonight. I’m sick of restaurants, aren’t you?’

‘We’ve only been four times.’

‘But four nights in a row. I don’t think people were designed to eat out so often. Sometimes it’s a treat to stay home.’

‘I don’t mind where we go.’

‘You’ll like the flat. It’s got a wonderful view of Chelsea. At least when it’s not foggy.’

Hester said nothing. Part of her felt as though whatever was going to happen had been arranged. Choreographed – and a voice in her head said, don’t go. Ask him to take you home. She knew that once she
went into his flat, once she allowed herself to be taken there, she was agreeing to something. She wasn’t objecting. She wouldn’t be able to say, he tricked me. He seduced me. He lured me to his flat. The truth is, she told herself, I want to go. I want to be alone with him. I want him to kiss me properly. I want him. I can’t help it. It’s wrong but I’m not going to stop myself. I won’t pretend I don’t know what’s going to happen.

Adam took her arm as they stepped into the lift. It was one of the creakiest, oldest lifts Hester had ever seen, and seemed reluctant to crawl up to the third floor. It was also tiny.

‘Hester …’ Adam said, and his arms were around her before she could answer. She turned her face up to his and then his mouth was on her mouth and she forgot entirely the small, fluttery movement of his lips on hers when he’d kissed her every night as they said goodbye. This, this hungry breathing-in of one another,
this
was a kiss. Along her arms and legs and through her body, she felt as if the blood was rushing too quickly along her veins.

Adam stepped away from her as the lift opened, and they walked silently to his door. Once they were inside, he led her to a sofa in the lounge and drew the curtains closed. She wished someone would tell one of them, either her or Adam, what the next move was. She knew the right way to behave. Here she was, alone with a married man in his flat and his wife was far away. She ought to go. She ought never to have come. She could stand up and walk to the door and ask him to drive her back to Moscow Road.

Adam didn’t say a word. He came to sit down beside her on the sofa and drew her into his arms.
He
has to do it, she thought. He has to show me what he wants. I can’t tell him. I don’t know what to do unless he starts.
Unless he shows me. But please, please let him say something now. I want him. Can I tell him how much I want him?

‘Hester,’ he said at last. ‘Hester, are you sure? I don’t want to make you do something you’d regret.’

‘I won’t. I won’t regret it. Please.’

Adam stood up and pulled her gently to her feet. They were standing beside the sofa and before she knew what was happening, her coat and skirt were on the floor. He was too slow,
too
gentle. She stepped away from him and pulled off her jumper, impatiently, swiftly. She was naked under the thin wool and she came to him and wrapped her arms around him and then he was kissing her and she almost fainted with pleasure. He kissed her mouth and then her neck and then her breasts, and she made a sound in her throat halfway between a groan and a sigh, and they moved together as though they were only one body down on to the sofa again. It was there – there, ready for them to lie on – and her heartbeat was so loud that she could hardly hear what he was saying, hear her own name repeated over and over again, and then he went on kissing her everywhere, all over her skin till it shone and burned and part of her thought, no, I can’t be doing this it’s wrong and I want to do it and I can’t stop. And then there were no more words anywhere and nothing but her own nerve-endings and a singing in her head and her body swept by a tide of desire which obliterated every conscious thought, every doubt, everything but this feeling which hurt her and filled her and which she wished would never stop. Never never never.

BOOK: Hester's Story
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