There is Nothing like a Dame A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright© 2017, 2018 & 2019 Bronwen Welsh A sequel to 'The Might-Have-Been Girl' and 'All the World's a Stage'

Chapter 50   Performing in Melbourne

As I walked through the Arrivals' Hall at the airport, pushing my trolley with the two large suitcases, an earnest-looking young man, carrying a very large camera rushed up to me:

“Miss Stow? It is Miss Harriet Stow isn't it?”

I smiled. “It is, or perhaps I should say 'I am'. But are you sure you've got the right person? All your colleagues are over there.” I gestured to where the television cameras and reporters were swarming around Amalie, like bees around a honey-pot.

He smiled “I think there's enough of my colleagues there. No, Miss Stow, the Arts Editor of the paper was most insistent that I find and interview you, and maybe take a picture? I've only been working there two weeks and this is really important to me; it could be my first byline.”

I took pity on him. “Of course,” I said. “What would you like to know?”

“I was told that you are here to perform in a season of 'Romeo and Juliet' at the Princess Theatre, and the Editor thought there might be something else happening too?”

My reply to the young reporter wasn't strictly true. “Well I'm hoping to catch up with my aunt and her family as she lives out here,” I said.

There was more but I wasn't at liberty to tell him; it was up to the people I was working for to do that.

When Richard, my manager first rang me and told me about the proposed one month season in Melbourne, I was a bit unsure. Was there really enough people wanting to see 'Romeo and Juliet', to fill a theatre for a month? Playing to half-empty houses wouldn't do my reputation any good.

“Ah, but there's a special reason for it,” he replied. “Each year the Year Twelve students, doing their final exams have to study a literary work for their English exam, and next year it's 'Romeo and Juliet'. The Victorian Education Department decided that a fully professional production, headed by a noted exponent of the parts of 'Romeo' and 'Juliet', would really help the students understand the play. For that reason, the proposal is to bus in the country students from all around the state for matinée performances, and reduce the number of evening performances. You'll be playing to full houses, no doubt about it.

“There's something else; they were wondering if you would hold some public master-classes on performing Shakespeare, and possibly hold a recital, where you recite some poetry, broken by some musical interludes, like the one you did in America. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds like a lot of work,” I replied.

“Yes it is, but they will make it worth your while. Let me tell you how much I've negotiated for you.” He told me the amount, first in Australian dollars and then converted to Brtish pounds. I gasped at the amount.

“Exactly!” said Richard, sounding very pleased with himself, as well he might, after all, he took ten per cent. “Keep going like that and you'll soon have enough to buy yourself a nice house.”

“I'm guessing I'll have to pay Australia tax on my income?” I enquired.

“Of course, but I can put you in touch with a very good accountant over there. Don't forget that all your expenses, including your airfare and hotel accommodation, will be tax deductible.”

There was one more thing I wanted to know, who would be playing 'Romeo' but Richard didn't know that. “It's still under negotiation,” he said.

At the airport, my interview was over, but I posed for a few pictures for the young reporter who identified himself as Ronny Calhoun and he seemed happy enough as he walked off, giving me his card to contact him if there was a 'scoop'. Two days later ther was a small article and a picture in the Arts pages and Ronny did indeed get his byline. I'm sure that went into his scrapbook.

I continued to the far end of the Arrivals' Hall where I had been told I would meet up with my chauffeur. Sure enough, one of the men standing there was holding up a large sign saying 'Miss H Stow', so I walked up to him.

“I'm Harriet Stow,” I said.

He smiled. “Good morning Miss Stow. I'm Bruce and I've been asked to take you to the Windsor Hotel.”

I managed to keep a straight face; so there really were men called 'Bruce' in Australia.

Bruce took over pushing the trolley, which I appreciated, because my two suitcases were quite heavy. When we arrived at the limousine, he lifted them into the boot as though they were a featherweight. I was impressed. He opened the rear door for me and I said

“Would you mind if I sit in the front passenger seat? Sitting in the back always makes me feel like I'm the Queen.”

Bruce laughed. “Of course Miss Stow” and he opened the front door for me.

It was a pleasant drive down the highway to the city. It was 'rush hour' and there was a lot of traffic around.

“It's like this most of the day now, weekends too. It's not at all like the Melbourne I grew up in. Have you ever been here before?”

“Yes, but only about a year ago; I was with the Imperial Shakespeare Company when we did a world tour, this time I'm on my own.”

“I had to do 'Hamlet' as part of my VCE; I'll admit that I didn't enjoy it,” he said.

“I think that's why I'm part of a group performing 'Romeo and Juliet'; it's so so much better that the VCE students can see the play performed. Shakespeare is much easier to understand when you see it performed onstage, rather than just reading it. Even if the language is a bit oldfashioned, you can still understand what is going on.”

“You sound like a real Shakespeare enthusiast,” Bruce said.

“I've been told I would be called a 'Shakespeare tragic' here,” I said with a smile.

We arrived at the wonderful old Windsor Hotel in Spring Street, Melbourne. It was built in the Nineteenth Century and is Australia's only Victorian era 'grand hotel'. It also has the advantage that it is only five minutes walk from the Princess Theatre where I would be performing again.

Bruce parked in front of the building and carried my cases into reception, telling me to call him if I needed to be driven anywhere. I signed in at reception and was handed an envelope addressed to me before being shown up to my room which was beautifully furnished. My suitcases were lifted onto stands to allow me easy access, which I really appreciated, since I had taken full advantage of the extra luggage allowance given to First Class passengers. I would be in Melbourne for a month and had packed outfits suitable for every occasion.

Next, I rang Reggie. I had texted him at the airport to let him know I had arrived but it's not a suitable location to chat, so he knew I would be calling from the hotel. Being on the other side of the world, the time difference is between nine and eleven hours, so my morning call would be late in the evening in England.

We chatted for about ten minutes. I told him about my interview with the reporter, Bruce, my driver and also my room and concluded with our usual endearments. I felt very fortunate that we were still so in love with each other. Reggie promised to let Emma and family know that I had arrived safely, and then I rang off, promising to ring again the next day. This was standard practice when I was away; we spoke to each other every day.

I opened the envelope and saw it was a note from Frederick Baker, the General Manager of the Princess Theatre. He welcomed me to Melbourne and hoped that I could join him, his wife Elaine and Susan Miles, the director of 'Romeo and Juliet' for dinner in the hotel's main dining room at seven o'clock. I was asked to phone his secretary to confirm if I was able to attend. Naturally, this was an invitation I felt bound to accept, so I rang and did so. I hoped the dinner wouldn't go too late as I was due to start rehearsals at nine o'clock the following morning.

The next decision was what to wear. I didn't think it would be a 'black tie' dinner, so I decided on a beautiful green cotton guipure tea-length dress with a floral design. It was 'dressy' but not 'formal'. I would wear it with stockings and strappy sandals with four-inch heels. By now I had come to realise that when people think you are a 'star' then you have to play the part all the time, on stage or off.

Being a stickler for punctuality, I arrived in the dining room on the stroke of seven. The Maitre D' showed me to the table and I was pleased to see that Frederick Baker was wearing a lounge suit and the two other ladies present, his wife and Susan Miles were wearing dresses similar in appearance to my own. Frederick stood as I approached and greeted me warmly with a handshake and a brief kiss on the cheek.

It was a very pleasant dinner. Naturally enough we talked about my visit, 'Romeo and Juliet' and the arrangements for me to conduct master-classes and also a recital.

“Have you decided on a program for your recital yet?” asked Elaine Baker.

“I thought it would make a change from the usual mixture of speeches from the plays and also some sonnets if I recited one of Shakespeare's epic poems 'Venus and Adonis'. Because it is so long, two hundred six-line verses, I thought that there should be breaks at suitable places for musical interludes. Then I would finish off with some of the more famous sonnets, I would appreciate knowing what you think of the idea.”

“It's certainly something different; I can't remember the last time it was performed in Melbourne,” said Fred, as he insisted I call him in private. “I'm sure it would fill the theatre for at least one performance, with the option of adding a second one if required. What do you think, Susan?”

“I agree,” said Susan. “Shakespeare has a large body of work and yet we seem to keep performing a relatively small number of his plays and some of the sonnets; his longer poetic works are almost forgotten. I think we should do it.”

I was pleased to have her support. We went on to discuss who should provide the musical interludes and Susan thought she had the perfect trio of violin, cello and piano. What's more, they were known for performing music from around Shakespeare's time. It was all coming together nicely. One thing I didn't yet know was who would be performing 'Romeo', but that was about to be revealed.

“We did try for a very well known actor but unfortunately he was unavailable. Luckily, at 'The Chimes Theatre Group', we have a really talented young man called John Thomson,” said Susan. “He's English and came out here three years ago with his family. He's been with the company a year now and we are very impressed with him. We were concerned that with your own British accent, someone who sounded too Australian might jar, but we think John will be perfect as 'Romeo'. Anyway, you will meet him at rehearsal tomorrow.”

“Speaking of which,” said Fred, glancing at his watch. “We really mustn't keep you up too late this evening after your long flight. Perhaps a coffee and then we'll call it a night. It's really been a very pleasant evening.”

I must admit that I had suppressed a yawn a couple of times, not because I was bored, but because I was feeling quite sleep deprived. Lucky for me, I only had to go upstairs to my room, undress and I asleep in no time.

My alarm clock woke me up at seven o'clock the next morning and after a shower, dressing and having breakfast, I decided to walk to the theatre. No-one in Australia would recognise me, so that was not a problem. The streets were already crammed with people going to work but none gave me a second glance.

The Princess Theatre is a beautiful building dating back to 1854 and seating 1452 people. I love old theatres, there is such a great atmosphere about them, and true to form, this theatre even had a resident ghost, about whom more later.

Susan was waiting for me at the stage door and led me to the stage where I was introduced to the rest of the cast, including John Thomson whom, I was told, was born in London. He was a very handsome young man in his early twenties, the perfect choice for 'Romeo', provided he could act, and I had little doubt on that score.

We had only a week to rehearse so we wasted no time in starting. Everyone knew their lines already, so it was a matter of blocking our moves and then starting the first scene. I found Susan very easy to get along with. She had experience in directing Shakespeare and didn't stop the flow of the play to point out things she wanted to change, but instead waited to the end of each scene. Since I was someone who was building quite a reputation for Shakespeare, she did consult to me on some matters, but I also deferred to her as the director, and we developed a good friendship as well as an excellent working relationship.

The same could be said of John Thomson. He was a very good actor and we developed real chemistry. If it hadn't been for the fact that I had performed with Richard Jenkins, I would have been even more impressed with John, but there is only one Richard. I was starting to think that the reason we weren't getting anywhere with the film production of 'Romeo and Juliet' was because of Richard's many film and stage commitments. I really wanted to make the film with him, but hoped it would be soon. We weren't getting any younger! Maybe if I let slip the fact that there was another very good actor who could take Richard's place, that might create a sense of urgency in him!

With everything that Amalie had to do getting ready for her concerts, it would not have surprised me if she had forgotten about her offer of concert tickets, but two days after I arrived in Melbourne, I received an envelope containing two premium tickets for her Saturday night concert and two backstage passes. I rang Aunt Peggy in Yack and asked her if Flora would be interested.

“Interested? She'd be jumping out of her skin at the thought,” said Aunt Peggy.

“Would you or Uncle Ron be able to bring her to Melbourne? In fact, would you like to take her to the concert?” I asked.

Aunt Peggy chuckled. “I know Amalie's a really nice person, but her music isn't really my scene. No, it would be really good for you to take Flora along if you don't mind? As cousins, it would be great to give you two the chance to bond a bit more. Why don't I hand the phone over to her and you can ask her if she'd like to come, yourself.”

When Flora heard that I had flown to Melbourne sitting beside Amalie, she was consumed with envy, but when I mentioned the concert tickets she squealed with excitement.

“You mean we could really get to meet her? In person?”

“That's what she said,” I replied.

It was arranged that Aunt Peggy would bring Flora down, and I booked a room with two single beds at the Windsor for them to stay the night. Instead of driving, they took the bus to Albury Station and then the train down to Southern Cross Station in Melbourne. The journey took nearly five hours but they didn't seem to mind. I suppose that comes of living in a big country.

When they arrived, I again asked Aunt Peggy if she'd like to go to the concert in my place, but she insisted she would prefer to bask in the luxury of time to herself in the hotel. Flora and I dressed up for the occasion (I've heard that the Australian expression is to 'frock up') and we were ready at the door when Bruce arrived to take us in the limousine to the stadium

The 'Rod Laver Arena', named after one of Australia's most famous tennis players, is a multi-purpose arena in Melbourne Park, famous as being the main venue of the Australian Open Tennis championship, one of the four 'Grand Slam' events, but it's also used for many events, including concerts, where the stage is often set in the centre of the arena. It seats nearly fifteen thousand people and I was reliably informed that the concert we were attending, which was one of four, was sold out.

We were shown to our seats which were in the VIP section, and given access to 'The Loft' so we were served snacks and soft drinks at our request and given a complimentary program each. Flora could hardly sit still for excitement and when Amalie appeared onstage, she was on her feet with the rest of the teenagers, screaming with excitement.

I enjoyed watching her reactions as much as the music as the concert progressed. Then something quite unexpected happened. In between song brackets, Amalie took time to talk to the audience and totally surprised me when she said as follows:

“During my flight to Melbourne, I met a lovely lady, Miss Harriet Stow. She's an actress and a very good one, currently starring in 'Romeo and Juliet' right here in Melbourne, so I suggest you get tickets to see her before the season is booked out. She's here tonight as my guest but I can't quite see her (this provoked laughter). I hope she's having a good time. My next song is dedicated to her. It was written by her favourite author William Shakespeare and it's called 'Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?'

Well, what a surprise! I knew that the famous Sonnet 18 had been set to music several times and somewhat to my surprise she sang the Nils Lindberg version accompanied just by an acoustic guitar and did it very well; the audience certainly seemed to think so. Audiences at pop concerts tend to be very noisy, but you could have heard a pin drop as she sang and afterwards, they roared their approval.

After the concert finished, I spoke to one of the attendants, showed them our passes and said that Amalie had invited us to her dressing room after the concert. He made a call, obviously to confirm that I was genuine, and then said with great respect “Would you follow me please?”

To be continued