As I turned around to face her, she looked straight into my eyes and said in a calm, quiet voice, ‘Mary McKendry, you will fail your Solo Seal if you perform like that.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Now, pull yourself together and do it again properly!’
I didn’t say anything but returned to the studio one last time. With great resolve, I was more determined than ever to prove that I could pass the exam. Right, I’ll show you, Miss Hansen!
Before leaving for Brisbane I had to say my goodbyes to my boyfriend, John, and my ballet friends, who were so happy for me. I had felt nothing but excitement until the whole family arrived at the little Rocky airport to see me off. Then I started to feel wobbly, my heart clenched tightly in my chest. Our family life wasn’t disciplined or organised, but everyone knew their place in it. My beloved siblings organised themselves in a line as they did at home, from tallest to smallest, and I hugged each of them individually, long and hard: Ger, Mick and Matt, Brig and Jo, Paddy and my dear little Dom. It was the first time we would be broken up by such a distance, and everyone looked sad – especially Dom, who was only seven at the time.
The Agnews had come to see me off too. All their children lined up behind Uncle Alan and Aunty Shirl, and I said my goodbyes to them one by one as well. We were all broken-hearted. At the same time I was desperate to go. Everyone waved goodbye with tears running down their faces, but I knew they were happy for me too.
Everything started to happen very fast. Suddenly, Mum and I were bound for Brisbane for the exam of my life. Dad would join us after the exam, and they were both coming to London to help me settle in while the siblings back in Rocky were billeted out to different friends and families. As I sat on the plane, I thought how I would miss them all and felt a little teary – but not for long, as I had to concentrate on the exam.
Miss Hansen’s warning during my disastrous dress rehearsal the night before had shaken me up and made me more determined not to fail. She knew how difficult the Solo Seal was to pass. I was sixteen and it would be my last exam – the last exam in the Royal Academy of Dance syllabus. There was no higher exam you could take, and you had to pass all the criteria perfectly and to the highest standard in order to achieve the Solo Seal. Miss Hansen had pushed me to think a bit more about details, and this filled my head on the rest of the journey to Brisbane.
Mum and I stayed nearby at Lennons Hotel in the city and the exam was at the Queensland Ballet Studio. I was really nervous. I knew friends who had failed Solo Seal before – sometimes it just wasn’t possible to excel at all those difficult steps and do them with ease, musicality and expression. The exam room was not ideal: it had a lot of posts in it, and I knew it would be even more difficult having to dance around them, adjusting to a different kind of performance space.
Miss Potts and Miss Daintree from Scully’s in Sydney were the examiners. They were very English and very proper, but I knew they had a high regard for Miss Hansen’s students. Reassuringly, Miss Veronica was there, too. She was to play for both me and Sharon. Miss Hansen had to stay outside this time, not peer in through the door like she did back in Rocky.
In the dressing room beforehand, I did my own hair and make-up, and put on my black tutu. It was the first time I’d worn a black tutu in an exam and I absolutely loved it. I felt so sophisticated and elegant. What you wear can impact your performance. I had two pairs of pointe shoes, one softer pair for the adage section and a harder pair for the classical solo and the four codas.
Although I was nervous, I felt I did my absolute best in the exam. I had to concentrate because what I was doing was hard. The classical solo was very long and incorporated many difficult dance combinations, so it was technically demanding and exhausting. The exam took one hour, and it finished with reverence – a bow with the music to give thanks to the examiners and pianist. I was relieved and happy when it was over.
The official results would arrive by mail, and Miss Hansen was quietly confident that both Sharon and I would pass. And she was right.
After the exam, Mum and Dad organised a dinner for Miss Hansen and me to celebrate and say goodbye. Dad hired a private room in the hotel where we were staying and we all dressed up. Grandma Bridie joined us, too. It was a special, memorable night and a fitting farewell to my teacher. That evening I formally thanked her for all she had done for me. Her eyes were slightly moist and it was the most emotional I had ever seen her. I could tell she was proud of me, but I also knew her high expectations of me.
I didn’t know it then, but Miss Hansen’s training had not only held me in good stead for that difficult exam, it also provided the foundation for the rest of my dancing career. Ballet isn’t a competition. It’s a long, hard journey that requires stamina, determination and tenacity. Performing show after show eight times a week is a test of resilience and endurance. I was grateful to Miss Hansen for her tough, disciplined training that set me up for the future.
I promised myself that night that I would try my hardest in London to repay her for all the care, hard work, hope and expectations she had invested in me over the years. No matter what, I was determined not to fail.
PART TWO
London
1975–85
There was no question about it – if I wanted to dance, London was where I needed to be.
3
Mum, Dad, Sharon and I boarded the plane to London late at night. It was a very long journey – about thirty-two hours, including fuel stops at Sydney, Singapore and Bahrain.
I had no idea what to expect. I was filled with excitement, and focused on looking ahead. I couldn’t wait to dance with dancers from all over the world. Rockhampton was a small town in Central Queensland but soon I would be in the centre of the world, a melting pot of people and cultures. I was going to learn so much. Sharon and I were desperate to get started on our new lives. In our eyes, the Royal Ballet School (RBS) was the pinnacle of the ballet world. We were enthralled by the Royal Ballet, especially their stars Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev.
When we finally landed at Heathrow Airport very early that August morning, I was jumping out of my skin, tired but so eager, pushing my luggage trolley through the crowds. Eventually we were outside in the fresh morning air, lining up for a black London cab. As the cockney driver pulled out, I had to pinch myself.
The journey to the hotel was exciting, especially as we passed Buckingham Palace with its smart guards in their red jackets and black busbies. Soon we arrived at St James’s Hotel, an ornate building dating from 1857, when the English were still sending convicts across the world to Australia. Mum told us about some of the famous people who’d stayed there – Winston Churchill, Michael Caine, Elton John. I could hardly believe it. Dad was already talking about the architecture to anyone who would listen.
We were shown to our luxurious rooms, with views over a green and beautiful St James’s Park. After showering and unpacking, we wandered the streets soaking up the atmosphere and identifying sights like Trafalgar Square, the Tower of London and Big Ben. Coralie and Neil George loved history and architecture, so this was the greatest adventure in their lives so far. In between preparing me for my new life in London, they ‘choofed off’ to museums and churches, and Coralie spent a great deal of time at Covent Garden markets.