In 2003 I was in my early 30s, working for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s company The Really Useful Group in Sydney. I don’t remember who introduced Pete and me but I’d seen several shows he’d designed and really liked his work. We immediately got on and I invited him to drop past my office to show me his portfolio.
A few weeks later he did. It was a balmy evening and after I’d looked over his work we decided to grab a beer and sit on the office stairs, where we chatted for ages. Between meeting him and him stopping by I’d unexpectedly taken a job in London, but I was genuinely interested in putting him forward for some projects so we agreed to stay in touch.
Between productions and travel it was almost two years before the time was right to take the conversations about potential work further. And when I did get in touch, he was working in Shanghai. By chance I was getting on a plane to Shanghai the following week so we arranged to grab a drink while I was in town.
We had planned to meet after a dinner I had with my bosses, and on the day itself we almost cancelled because we were both tired. But we persevered and ended up at the kind of bar where you place a stack of cash on your table that pays for your drinks as you go. The large sum of money Pete put down bought a large amount of alcohol. The night was long and the conversation was far-reaching, wandering significantly away from professional matters.
I found out Pete was recently single, that we were both from big families and he didn’t plan on having kids. I surprised myself by blurting out that all I’d ever wanted was to become a mother and thought I’d probably become a bitter, miserable person if I didn’t. One thing led to another and we spent what was left of the night together in my hotel room.
We got in at dawn and I was meeting my bosses at the dreadful hour of 7.30am to head for Beijing. We thought he managed to sneak out without them noticing as they waited for me in the lobby. I later found that wasn’t the case.
When my professional obligations were over, I had a few days to kill. I casually invited Pete to join me in Beijing, so he jumped on a plane. I was enjoying the city and his company so much – everything just felt so alive. We ate, drank and talked all weekend.
On the last night we were sitting in the bay window of my hotel room, looking over the twinkling lights of Beijing, when the conversation somehow returned to family. Out of the blue he said: “I’ve never wanted children, but I would have a baby with you.”
I stared at him in total shock. I didn’t want to overreact, so I played it cool and replied: “Yeah, maybe, let’s see.”
I went back to London, he returned to Shanghai and we stayed in touch. I didn’t want to presume what that moment meant for Pete but I think my independence made him feel comfortable to even say such a thing. Whatever such an outlandish statement meant to him, there was something about the sincerity in his voice that was profound to me. It ran deep and I felt then that it would connect us for a very long time to come.
The chaotic nature of our work meant things often changed quickly. We moved around and things were rarely static for extended periods. In past relationships I had always felt this sense of unease about what was around the next corner. The first years of my romance with Pete were a whirlwind: we met up all over the world and were pulled apart by jobs and obligations, but from that conversation onwards I felt this immense sense of security in our connection. We had our first baby within 16 months!
Twenty-one years later we have navigated the ups and downs of countless projects, moves and raising two children. Throughout it all, there has been an unwavering sense of unity between us. It’s a safety that has always kept me feeling my strongest.
As I talk to our teenagers about love, and how we know when it’s real, it’s something I come back to time and again: sure I get grumpy with their dad, but he has always made me feel like the very best version of myself.
Carmen Pavlovic is the CEO of Global Creatures and the producer of Moulin Rouge! The Musical, showing 9 March to 4 April 2027 at the Sydney Lyric theatre