‘It seems I have been invited to the Mayor’s Gala Dinner to give a talk,’ announced Henry as he walked into Tom’s room. I know you get frustrated when I get the attention like this but you do know I could not do what I do without you.'
Tom sighed. He knows Henry loves the attention. Even on the day they first met, he had recognised Henry’s desire for attention, a need of acknowledgement to boost his ego and feeling of self worth. It was not a bad thing; after all it was the driving force behind the man that helped him see opportunities where Tom, a man of more practical orientation, would not have seen it.
‘Yes I know that. I would not fit into those sorts of events anyway. You go and enjoy yourself with all those stuff-shirts.’
*
Music wafted from the side room as Henry approached the door of the main dining area of Sydney Town Hall. An army sergeant in a red dress uniform stood at the door with a list in his hand. ‘Welcome sir, your name please?’ he requested.
‘Henry Giles, I believe I am to be a speaker this evening.’
The sergeant checked his list. ‘Yes sir, I have you listed as such. If you will follow the corporal here he will take you to the Mayor.’
Henry thanked the sergeant and dutifully followed the corporal into the dining room, which featured a long mahogany table, set with carefully polished silverware, native flowers and starched white napkins. Around the table the other guests mingled. He felt slightly under-dressed, with the men wearing either a military uniform of officer rank, or a black dinner suit and a white shirt with a high collar. The ladies wore an assortment of corseted gowns with plenty of frills and ruffles.
The corporal wove his way through the throng till he stood adjacent to the Mayor, a robust balding man sporting a generous beard and a red nose and cheeks, an indication of his love of alcohol. He was speaking to several people with a booming voice as the corporal attracted his attention by coming to attention stiffly.
‘The guest speaker, Mr Giles,’ announced the corporal.
‘Ah, welcome sir, William Merriman, Mayor of Sydney,’ he said as he extended his hand. The man’s handshake was slightly too firm and Henry suspected that at times his politicking methods extend to more than just the verbal.
‘May I introduce you to some of my other guests,’ said the Mayor as he gestured the three other people facing them. One was a military officer of middle age with a pleasant face with several medals on his chest.
‘This is Captain Arthur Mannering of the 1st Regiment, New South Wales Rifle Volunteers. He fought in the Franco-Prussian War you know,’ exulted Merriman in a way that hinted his own bravery by association. Mannering gave a thin smile at Merriman that becomes warmer and more genuine as he faced Henry.
‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ said Mannering in a gentle voice as he gave Henry a more politely firm handshake and added, ‘call me Mannering, I am most comfortable with that after so long in the army.’
‘And here we have Mr. John Willett and his daughter Ada,’ continued Merriman. ‘Mr. Willett owns several reputable hotels in the city and Ada is an accomplished pianist who has played in several large recitals,’ beamed Merriman with as much pride as if he were Ada’s father.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Willett as he shook Henry’s hand.
‘You also,’ replied Henry with a smile before his gaze moved to Aada.
Henry could not stop looking. Before him was a young woman, perhaps in her mid 20s and with a delicate face, framed by chestnut coloured hair and delicate hazel eyes. He gently took her offered hand, noting her long slender fingers, ‘an artist’s fingers’ thought Henry, and giving his head a curt nod said to Ada ‘pleasure to meet you Miss Willett.’
She smiled and Henry was sure he saw her eyes twinkle. ‘I am also pleased to meet you, Mr Giles.’
In the background a small bell rang.
‘Ah, the dinner bell, let’s be seated,’ announced Merriman. He gestured towards the end of the table, suggesting that Captain Mannering sit at the top corner of the table on Henry’s right and Ada and then her father on his left. For Henry, a more perfect seating arrangement could not have been suggested. Merriman took his position at the head of the table, standing till everyone was seated.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he boomed. ‘I thank you all for your attendance this evening. Momentarily our dining experience will commence and I encourage you to eat your fill and drink to your merriment. During dessert we have a most interesting speaker, a man who tempts fate and his attendance tonight is proof that he wins every time.’ A gentle laughter rippled through the seated guests and dinner began.
The dinner progressed smoothly, with Mannering detailing several of his adventures during the war when he had been stationed on the Belgian border as part of the small force Britain sent to defend Belgium’s neutrality. He later traveled to Paris after the war where he was involved in the reorganisation after the Siege of Paris.
Despite his interest, towards the middle of the main course Henry was able to divert the conversation to his left.
‘Tell me Miss Willett, how long have you been playing the piano?’
‘I started playing when I was ten,’ she replied with a voice that to Henry seemed like pure honey. ‘My mother insisted that music was good for the brain. At first I hated it, but then I learned how the music could take me to places in my mind and transform my emotions, so now I love the piano. It is my way of paying tribute to my mother who sadly died several years ago.’
‘I’m sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. I wish I could
play an instrument, but I’m afraid such a talent has eluded me.’
’We all have our talents, Mr Giles. I for instance
become nervous even when standing on a chair. Heights are something that causes
me quite a deal of trepidation, so I am a complete loss as to how you are able
to perform the feats that you do!’
‘No doubt as with music, everything becomes easier with practice, Miss Willett.’
Their repartee was brought to a halt as the Mayor stood and tapped a small spoon against the side of his wine glass creating a sound like a high pitched, tinkling bell.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I trust you have enjoyed your meals thus far. In a few minutes when our plates have been cleared and desert distributed, our guest speaker, Mr Henry Giles, will entertain us with tales of his high rope walking feats. Thank you.’
The Mayor sat down heavily, as a man who has worked his way through a hearty meal accompanied by a generous quantity of wine would, and addressed Henry. ‘We will wait five minutes after dessert has arrived and then you may make your way to the lectern. Speak for as long as you wish.’
*
Henry was comfortable speaking to the crowds at his performances, but felt none of the same level of effortlessness as he stood in front of the room of diners and the small sea of influential faces. Anxiously, he started and managed to relax and the nervous quaver soon left his voice.
The audience seemed genuinely interested in how he had started his performing career ten years previous at age 20, as a circus acrobat with Burton’s Circus in Melbourne, after being raised on a small farm on the outskirts of Melbourne. While he had strength from farm labouring ha had gained the uniquely required fitness, stamina and muscle control from the acrobatics to allow the step up to walking a rope. He explained ropewalk training starts just a foot above the ground, till the gaining the balance ability required to progress higher with a safety net and finally dispensing with the net altogether. He told his audience how, as a tightrope walker he had visited Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane doing seasons in each city.
His tightrope walking had been performed for a number of years when the world-famous French tightrope walker, Charles Blondin, toured Australia. This accomplished performer completed tricks on the rope that people would not have believed possible if they had not seen it with their own eyes. Henry related that seeing his act had inspired him to imitate Blondin, and with month’s intensive practice he became proficient in all aspects of the act. This soon had him labeled with the name of the Australian Blondin, a name that he took no umbrage in adopting.
His recounting of the recent walk between the two ships captivated everyone as he told the story with a few added embellishments. It was, he said, a stunt that while perhaps not as grand as the French Blondin’s multiple crossings of Niagara Gorge, did show an inventive panache and allowed a first class view for all spectators, even if they almost saw more than they expected with his tumble and less than dignified return to the ship on his final crossing.
At the end of his talk, which had lasted 20 minutes, a loud and long round of applause was his congratulation. Merriman stood as the applause died down.
‘I think we can all agree that our speaker has clearly shown that his zone of comfort is for many of us a zone of discomfort, if not downright fear. While your feats of daring are to be applauded, I wonder sir, if you have any plans for a higher or longer walk planned?’
Henry contemplated his reply momentarily. ‘As in the fields of many endeavours, it is never wise to rest on one’s laurel’s for fear of being bettered. I think all those here who experience success know that part of this is ego driven. We all like to be at the top, even if I must say my being at the top of my profession, will, in all likelihood, always be much higher than yours [laughter through the audience]. So no matter my achievements, yes I will always be looking for higher and longer.’
He smiled at Ada as he sat down and gulped a mouthful of wine. ‘This sort of speaking is not my forte. I hope I did not bore everyone too much.’
Ada smiled warmly. ‘Oh no Mr Giles, I think the silence and lack of cutlery against plates was an indication of everyone’s interest, including mine I must say. You have led a very interesting life, far more so than my quiet existence.’
Henry blushed at the compliment and took a great deal of interest in the wine glass sitting in front of him as he allowed his flush to subside.
‘Thank you Miss Willett, you are too kind,’ he said as he turned to gaze upon her again. ‘Tell me, are you due to play anywhere soon. I would very much like to hear your musical talents.’
‘Indeed I am. I am playing as part of a performance of musicians and singers and I would be very pleased if you would come to listen.’
It was arranged that Henry would attend her next performance at the Theatre Royal in King St in two weeks.