When we got back to Melbourne it was almost time for Li’s fiftieth birthday. We had decided to hold it at home as the flowing spaces of the house would allow people to mingle easily. I had cooked up a secret plan that involved our grand staircase and Tom’s singing teacher, Dermot Tutty. I wanted it to be a night to remember for my husband, who had become an Australian citizen ten years earlier and whose birthday quite serendipitously fell on Australia Day. What an opportunity also to toast the year ahead, the decade ahead! What lay in store for us remained to be seen, but one thing was certain: life with Li was never going to be dull.
Li was loved by so many people that in the end I made it an open-house party with over 150 people invited. I wanted the whole family to enjoy the night, so I decided to hire some serving help and catering, including a chocolate fountain – the kids’ idea.
In the middle of the party, I pulled Li up the stairs to the first landing. He was puzzled, and asked, ‘What are you doing, darling?’
‘Just wait and see,’ I replied.
As I gathered our family and friends at the foot of the stairs I gave a short speech with Sophie and Bridie by my side and told Li that we had a surprise present for him – a performance created by Tom and Dermot. Li had no idea about any of it. Dermot started playing the piano while Tom and his choir friends walked down the staircase and started to sing. Then, suddenly, an exquisite voice floated from above.
‘Do you recognise this?’ I whispered in Li’s ear. He looked at me questioningly.
The magical voice belonged to Siobhan Stagg – a beautiful country girl with blonde hair and the voice of an angel who would soon go on to international fame. That night, at the top of our staircase, she was a star!
Very quickly Li recognised the song and turned to me with a big smile and damp eyes, and kissed me. It was ‘Solveig’s Song’ from Peer Gynt, the first dance Li and I had performed together in Houston, the very ballet we’d fallen in love over. We had danced to the music with a full orchestra but had never heard the lyrics to the song. We watched and listened as Siobhan made her way down the staircase. It was a very special moment.
The memories of that perfect night stayed with us throughout the year. Then in September, I got a call from Brig to say that Matt was in hospital and in a very bad way. I had visited him just weeks before, fearing the worst, and the whole Brisbane family was by his bedside. Anxiety and depression had eventually led to major health issues for him, and he was taken from us far too soon.
We were bereft. Even though he had been unwell for some time, we were still stunned. One of the eight was gone! How could it be?
I knew I wouldn’t get over the loss of Matt for a long time, if ever, and so I wanted to be closer to the McKendry clan. Then, even though I don’t believe in fate, something happened next that you could say was meant to be. A woman from a recruitment firm contacted me, completely out of the blue, wanting to pick my brains about Queensland Ballet’s search for a new artistic director. I laughed and told her, ‘Quite frankly, I don’t know anyone who could direct a ballet company except for my husband.’
I truly believed that. Li would be exceptional. I knew it in my heart as I knew his vision and ability.
‘Would Li be interested in the job?’ she asked.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ I replied. Ever since the disappointment of the Australian Ballet position, Li had buried this lifelong dream. In fact, he had declined several approaches from ballet companies around the world since then.
During dinner that evening, he said, ‘Darling, I had a call today about Queensland Ballet. The recruiter asked for my thoughts on the attributes and experience they should be looking for in an artistic director.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’ Li shot back.
‘What else?’ I pressed.
Li shrugged his shoulders. ‘I told him what I thought, and at the end he asked if I would be interested in the job. I told him no.’
‘I don’t think you should just dismiss it, Li. You would be a wonderful director.’
‘Mary, I never want to go through that process again.’
‘But Li . . .’
‘No, Mary, stop it. I don’t want to talk about this any more.’
Faced with Li’s stern expression I dropped the discussion, but I waited eagerly for him to come home the following night to talk further about it.
‘Darling, have you thought any more about the Queensland Ballet job?’ I asked him once he’d changed out of his suit.
‘Yes,’ Li replied.
‘And?’
‘I don’t think so. We’ve got too much to lose,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘We have a great life now, Mary,’ Li replied. ‘I’ve built up a successful stockbroking business and a good speaking career, and I’m considering new book ideas with Penguin. You have a teaching job at the Australian Ballet that you love, and our family and close friends are here . . .’
‘But Li, everything happens for a reason. You didn’t get the Australian Ballet job and then the opportunity came up to write your book. That was the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. Your story reached the whole world. And you have been home with the children more than you would have been if you were touring with the ballet. So it’s all worked out. But now here’s another opportunity.’
Later that night, I saw him at our dining-room table writing something down. I quietly leaned over and saw a list of pros and cons for the Queensland Ballet job. I smiled inside.
‘What are you doing, darling?’ I asked cheekily.
‘I’m making a list,’ Li replied.
‘What do you think?’
‘Well, more minuses than pluses,’ he said. I could clearly see that the negative column was much longer than the positive column. I singled out ‘passion’ on his list for discussion. I knew that he still had a passion for ballet. By the end of the night, I had got him to admit that if he had to choose one dream job in life, it would be to return to the ballet world. And I believed that this was where he could make the greatest impact.
‘Wouldn’t it be nice to give something back to the art form that has given us so much in our lives?’ I asked him before we went to bed.
I’d always hoped that Li would be in the ballet world forever, but we both understood that opportunities for a job like a ballet directorship didn’t grow on trees. There were only three professional ballet companies in Australia, and he had assumed he may not ever get the opportunity to work in any of them. But deep down I had never let go of that dream for him. I wasn’t assuming anything would happen now, but God, my heart started beating that little bit faster!
I knew that Li had much to offer the new generation of dancers and to the art form itself. Ballet needed the talent and experience of someone like him.
‘Li, think about it. You’ve done well in the business world for the past fifteen years, but you need to think about what you would really enjoy doing for the next fifteen years.’ I challenged him: ‘Nothing will be lost if you throw your hat in the ring.’
‘It doesn’t matter, applications are closed,’ he said.
‘Just tell them you’re interested and see what happens,’ I urged.