Free Hester's Story by Adèle Geras

was seventeen he was six foot two and much too tall to become a professional dancer. In any case, he was beginning to read more and more and had started to wonder whether he might not be a writer of some kind, a journalist perhaps. He went up to Queen’s College, Oxford, to read English and came back to ballet when a friend of his, who was directing a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream , needed a short dance for the fairies to perform. He’d asked Hugo to help him. Hugo enjoyed the experience so much; was so delighted to be back in the world of movement and music, and so pleased to find himself in charge of everything that happened, that he made up his mind to pursue choreography as a career.
    When he came down from Oxford, he’d managed to find a job as assistant to Julian Flannard in the Flannard Ballet Company, and had done nothing else ever since. Choreography suited him perfectly, and when Julian retired Hugo took over his company and renamed it after himself.
    He knew that when he stood in front of a company of dancers he became a different person from the one who walked about in the non-ballet world. He liked his own way and wasn’t afraid of putting people’s backs up to get it. He’d been known to reduce young dancers to tears in class and at rehearsal, but was so kind and pleasant to them afterwards that no one bore grudges for very long, mainly because Hugo was able to demonstrate how much better this or that dancer was performing now that they were obeying his orders. He was intensely musical, imaginative, and intelligent, and while he never showed off about it, he made apoint of being honest with himself. So okay, he had a reputation for strictness, but his dancers always said he was a good listener.
    He looked at his watch. Claudia would soon be here and with her what he was beginning to think of as the Claudia Problem. This was complicated, and Hugo hated complications. Frequently, they sorted themselves out if you left them alone, one way or another, but Claudia was a special case. He had begun to wonder lately whether he really loved her. Things she did, ways in which she spoke to poor Alison, had begun to get to him. If ever he dared to chide her, she froze him out or made a scene, spitting at him that Alison was her daughter and none of his business. There had been times over the last few months when he had seriously considered telling her it was all over between them. He had almost convinced himself that this was the best thing to do when the Wychwood competition happened, and then he’d had to cast Sarabande and she was perfect as the Princess, and that was how things were.
    Claudia never admitted her age in any of the many interviews she gave, and it was quite true that she did look stunning most of the time. But for how much longer would she still be credible as a principal, still be able to dance the roles that required real physical strength and flexibility? It was only a matter of time before she’d have to lower her sights and take on character parts. He didn’t want to have to be the one to break that news to her. Hugo sighed. I’ll deal with it when I have to, he thought. It’s time to go and find something to eat. On his way to the kitchen, he thought about Hester Fielding and how nervous he’d been when he came to the audition. He’d waited for some time in her office before she came in to interview him, fascinated by the photographs that showed her inher youth. In some of the pictures she couldn’t have been much more than Alison’s age, and when he met her he could still see something of the girl she used to be.

1947
    Ballet classes had been cancelled because of the weather. Snow was piled high at the side of the village street and the roads were icy and dangerous. Madame Olga thought it best to declare that the Christmas holidays would last a little longer. Estelle, though, was specially privileged. Because she lived so near Wychwood House, she was allowed to wrap up