Hester's Story Read Free Page A

table, treading delicately over her papers. He settled himself against a small pile of copies of the last Wychwood Newsletter, the one that had gone out to Friends of the Festival a few weeks ago. Hester picked up the top copy and glanced at it, happy to be distracted:
As we move into winter, attention always turns to the upcoming Festival and Friends are eager to know who will present the 1987 ballet. This year’s competition has been won by Hugo Carradine, the 34-year-old founder and choreographer of the Carradine Ballet, who made such a sensation last year with his Silver Girls . The projected work for the Festival is called Sarabande . Hugo says, ‘It’s based on an ancient Persian fairytale, but we’ve built a series of almost abstract variations round the story. It’ll be sensual and passionate with lavish decor and costumes in the Bakst tradition. We’re very fortunate that Claudia Drake has agreed to dance the principal role of the Princess.’
Wychwood House welcomes the company from 27 December for the customary rehearsal period at the Arcadia, and the first night will take place on 6 January as always and run for ten performances. The Box Office opens on 25 November 1986.
George Stott (Secretary, Friends of the Wychwood Festival and Arcadia Theatre Manager)
    ‘You’re getting in the way, Siggy,’ Hester said, sweeping her hand gently over his back and putting theNewsletter down. Her table was under the window so that there would always be something interesting to look at if she tired of whatever she was doing: the monkey-puzzle tree and, criss-crossed by its spiky branches, the roof of the Arcadia Theatre, built in a small dip in the landscape a little way away from the house. Every time she looked at it, she felt proud. It had been her idea, her brainchild, and it was now the home of the annual Wychwood Festival which, over the ten years it had been in existence, had become a highlight of the ballet calendar. The countryside beyond the garden changed colour with changes in the weather, and today it was how Hester liked it best, with the moors almost purple behind the house and disappearing into clouds in the distance. A flurry of sleet almost obscured her view of the tall, intricately patterned wrought-iron gates.
    There was a knock at the door. ‘Come in.’
    Ruby entered with Jemima close behind her.
    ‘Are you ready, Hester?’ Ruby asked. ‘This is Jemima Entwhistle …’ She paused, and Hester knew that she’d noticed that something was not quite right. Ruby always knew when something was troubling her. ‘Yes thanks, Ruby. I’m quite ready.’
    Then she smiled at the young woman who was hovering near a chair. ‘Hello, Jemima, it’s nice to meet you. Please sit down.’
    *
    Hester’s face was still streaked with tears when Ruby came in with coffee and biscuits. She put the tray down and said ‘I’ve brought a drink for you both … but what’s wrong, Hester? I knew you weren’t looking yourself. Where’s Miss Entwhistle?’
    ‘I had a call from Edmund,’ Hester said. ‘Just beforeyou brought her in. He told me that Adam died yesterday. Of a heart attack.’
    Ruby knelt down beside Hester and put a hand on her knee. ‘Oh, my dear! My poor Hester. How dreadful! How could you think of giving an interview when you’d just been told something like that? You should have cancelled; Miss Entwhistle would have rescheduled it, I’m sure.’
    ‘I didn’t want to. I wanted all interviews over with before the company arrives for rehearsals. And I was doing very well. I felt quite proud of myself. She had no idea anything was wrong, but—’
    ‘What happened?’ Ruby took the chair opposite her and began pouring the coffee. ‘What did she say?’
    ‘She asked me about Christmas, why we don’t celebrate it. I changed the subject, of course. Then she asked me why I hadn’t married and I just lost my temper and sent her away. Awful of me, really.’
    Ruby didn’t comment. It would be