We all booked into the same hotel. As soon as Dad walked in, I kissed him and handed Sophie over. He gazed at her. ‘Hello, Sophie,’ he said in his soft, caring way. ‘My precious pearl.’ And that’s what he called her from then on.
Then Li introduced my parents to his. It was a little emotional to see my dad finally shake hands with Dia. Both such strong but gentle men, I thought, my heart melting.
My parents and Li’s parents spoke in their own languages for the whole visit. Sophie was the conduit. They worked together looking after her while not understanding a word the other couple said. They treated each other with such respect. There was a lot of gesticulation going on – pointing to mouths for food and bottoms for nappy changes. Somehow they managed.
Brig was good with babies too, so yet again there was no shortage of loving arms for Sophie. My brother Mick had produced the first McKendry grandchild the year before: Jessica. They shared stories about her – how fair she was, how strong and how clever. The family was happy to see Li again as well. Dad chatted with him about what was happening in both US and Chinese politics – heaven for Dad.
And then it was our opening night. The Grand Theatre on the harbour in Kowloon was quite a modern theatre. I hadn’t been on stage for a whole year. I was nervous but, knowing Li would be beside me, I was able to stay calm. Li was extra careful with me. As soon as the music started, I was focused. There’s no time for anything but focus as your whole world becomes the music and the story. My parents and Brig were there and Li’s parents stayed back to look after Sophie. When it was over, I felt relieved and looked forward to the next show, hoping to get stronger. The season went well and reviews were good, but I knew physically I wasn’t up to my usual standard yet, and I was frustrated with myself. I just needed more time and to work harder.
It was quite cold in Hong Kong but full of Christmas atmosphere. Sophie was sitting up now, propped against cushions, holding on to her rattle or a banana by herself, and so responsive with her cute smiles, laughter and babbling. I was sad to be saying goodbye to my family, but keen to be out of the hotel room and back in our own home with the baby.
Life in Houston was pretty wonderful and the early months of 1990 flew by. Sophie was very strong and had been walking around holding on to the furniture, when at nine months she started walking all by herself – amazing, since she was rarely out of her grandparents’ arms. My Mad Mothers group came to every ballet, and loved it – we had opened their eyes to a whole new world. Niang and Dia came to our performances often as well. They had never seen ballet before they came to the West. Niang always made her tongue-clicking noise in awe at the skills of her son and the other dancers.
Sophie’s first year was gone in a flash. We decided to have a first birthday party. It started small: it was just to be the Mad Mothers, their babies and a few others, including John, Megan, baby Austin, Charles, Lily and little Zachary, as well as both lots of Chinese grandparents. But then we couldn’t leave out Sophie’s godparents, Ben and Ava Jean. That meant we had to invite the rest of our friendship group, including Preston and Peggy, and the list just grew and grew to include dancers and other ballet friends. Thank God for Niang and Dia. They cooked a feast for the multitudes – dumplings, Niang’s steamed bread, and lots of delicious traditional northern Chinese dishes. Dame Margot sent Sophie a copy of her children’s picture book of Swan Lake with a personal inscription. How thoughtful! Ben arrived with a plastic rocking horse that Sophie could ride and push along with her feet. She was the centre of attention as she scooted around the guests. With all those people, it was really quite a raucous party. When she got tired, we put her in a cot out on the verandah, not far from everyone, where she fell sound asleep despite all the merry laughter and loud noise. ‘What a wonderful baby. So easy! You’re so lucky!’ people commented. It was true. Whenever Sophie was tired, she put her thumb in her mouth, cuddled her ‘silkie’ and just went to sleep, no matter the noise.
Around that time Ben bought Sophie a beautiful red velvet dress from Italy, so when we had a family photo taken, it had to be in that dress. I remember seeing the photo and Sophie’s wide eyes and thinking that the flash had given her a real surprise. For some reason this concerned me. When we took her for her first-year check-up with the paediatrician, Li took the opportunity to mention something he’d noticed. ‘Doctor, sometimes she doesn’t turn when we call her name.’
The doctor looked at us inquisitively, and turned Sophie away from him and clapped his hands, then clapped again. Sophie turned around at the doctor’s second clap. He looked at Li with an expression that said, ‘See, what’s all the fuss?’
‘She’s fine,’ the doctor said definitely. ‘Children growing up in a bilingual household are processing a lot more language before making sense of it, so they often speak later.’
That sounded reasonable, so we left feeling reassured.
I was now fully back in shape. Ben even commented at a dinner one night: ‘Mary is dancing stronger and better after having Sophie.’
Honestly, I did feel that I was dancing better now, with an extra maturity. But the reality of returning to work full-time was sinking in. I had to leave Sophie five days a week and some evenings for performances. It was a wrench, even though she was so nicely cared for and the commute was short. I could even dash home if I had a break between rehearsal and performance.
Yet the dancing was so exciting – it was amazing! We performed Romeo and Juliet, still a ballet I absolutely loved. Although it’s a three-act ballet, it isn’t as technically demanding as Swan Lake, so it was perfect for me at that time. In September, we were invited by Christopher Bruce to go to Denmark for the filming of Ghost Dances. We decided to leave Sophie with her nana and yeye this time.
‘Ask them if she’s babbling more or forming any words, Li,’ I whispered to him when he rang home one day.
‘Not yet,’ he replied, once he’d hung up.
Sophie had been happily babbling ‘Gaa gaa gaa’, ‘Maa maa maa’ and ‘Baa baa baa’, but we were waiting for more. I was anxious to get home.
We were working in a film studio and I was one of the three Indian girls in the ballet and Li was one of the ghosts. As part of the filming, we had to repeat the dance sequences over and over on the five-day shoot to give the filmmakers what they wanted, so there was a lot of standing around between takes. Christopher was a perfectionist and in the end it was a very good film. It is still frequently used in dance education classes around the world. But I was relieved to get back to Sophie.
One evening, out of the blue, the phone rang. It was the Australian Ballet’s general manager, Noel Pelly.
‘Mary, how are you?’ he said. ‘How’s life after the baby? I hear you’re dancing as well as ever.’
He was such a charming man. I have to admit it was a joy to hear his Australian accent, but I was more interested in why he was ringing. ‘I’m loving being back on stage,’ I replied.
‘I’m glad to hear it, Mary. We are planning an all-Australian gala at the Sydney Opera House in November. Maina and I would really like you to take part. It would be so wonderful for the Australian audiences to see your beautiful dancing.’ Maina Gielgud was the Australian Ballet’s artistic director.