Original subtitles

[dark, mysterious music plays]

[tense music plays]

[sombre piano music plays]

[tram bell dings]

[interviewer] Okay. Let's start with the easy stuff.

[sighs]

[interviewer] Do you have a photo of your mum - Carolyn?

Sure.

This is my mum - Carolyn.

I remember looking at it and being like, "I wonder if she was happy."

I knew that every person that I ever met

was eventually going to ask me...

where my mum was.

And... I dreaded it.

Because I didn't want to have to explain

the whole situation.

I felt a lot of shame around it.

Just having to deal with other people's reactions

or responses or opinions,

or hold their anger, confusion, disgust, pain,

surprise, awkwardness, or their silence.

Sometimes I would make things up.

Would just say a different...

cause of death, um, that seemed, like, simpler.

It was somewhere between "I don't want to talk about it"

and just lying about the way she died.

But the truth is...

my dad killed my mum.

I was three months old.

My life was just always

in the shadow of this horrible tragedy.

Because I was never told anything,

I've always wanted to know what happened,

how it happened, why it happened.

To keep knowing until somehow I can make it better.

I would never want this to happen to anybody.

But...

I am who I am because of it.

[dark music swells]

Mm-hm.

I came to know Carolyn probably about two...

well, about two years before all of this happened.

Uh, my name is Jill Brodie.

Um, I met Carolyn when I was in my late twenties.

Um, and she was a wonderful teacher.

Amazing musician. Kind.

And, of course, physically, she was so beautiful.

My name's Vicki Sheaffe.

I was a good friend of Carolyn Stuckey

in our late twenties, early thirties.

Um, and now I'm sitting here at 71.

[woman] Yeah, we got scholarships to go to teachers' college

and we developed a very strong friendship.

We just clicked.

She was teaching our children at the time.

And they had known her all their short lives

and were very fond of her.

I can remember my son aged five

saying, "I love Mrs Stuckey, Mum."

You know? And he meant it.

[Kathryn] I think she loved children.

I think, you know, you probably don't become a school teacher

if you don't love children.

She says, "I'm going to go into Miss Lismore."

And I thought, "Oh, good on you!" You know?

And the next thing, she's in the paper and she's won!

This one...

is where she was announced Miss Lismore.

And there's Jacki Weaver down there

with some guys going, "Heh, heh, heh," in the background.

It was a big thing. It was real prestigious to be, you know, Miss Lismore.

Oh, yeah. It was special.

So, yeah, she would've been easily recognisable.

Definitely.

She was the sort of woman

that people would turn around and look at.

But she was oblivious to her beauty.

She was oblivious to the effect she had on people.

[Anne] I was with Carolyn at the Lismore Workers Club

and it was a Wednesday night

when she met her husband - Allan Stuckey.

I don't know whether he owned the pharmacy,

but he was certainly the principal in the pharmacy in Lismore.

And he was eight years older. So he was well placed.

We were only 18. You know?

We're going, "Who's this dude?" You know?

"Who's this dude coming over here?"

She was there for the picking, wasn't she?

She's a pretty little thing, big blue eyes, blonde hair.

Easily...

easily won over, I would say.

This one is, um, the two of them

and my dad's sister, uh, at their wedding.

I mean, the first thing I think is...

those sideburns were quite a statement.

[laughs] Um...

Yeah, I mean, look,

it's a bit strange to look at wedding photos of them.

There's a lot of, like, hope and promise in that moment

of a future that...

would look a lot different than it turned out to look.

Um...

[Vicki] Her marriage to Allan Stuckey,

they just didn't, to me, and to a lot of people,

didn't seem to... mash together.

He was into tennis in a big way.

But, yeah, that wasn't her thing at all. No.

She was more literary and arty and music and... You know?

Different.

Yeah, they were chalk and cheese, really,

when you analyse it like that.

The Lismore Theatre Club

was a very kind of vibrant community.

I think it was a place where

a lot of people could kind of have some fun

and have this social connection.

Most of our friends at that time belonged to the Theatre Club.

[Jill] And Carolyn had never previously been in the Theatre Club.

But I think she envied the fun we had.

And so she auditioned.

Is it cold being a ghost?

No, I don't think so.

What happens if I touch you?

I doubt if you can. Do you want to?

Oh, Elvira!

[Kathryn] 'Blithe Spirit' is a play written by Noel Coward.

It's about a man who is haunted by the ghost of his dead wife.

The ghost is played by my mum - Carolyn.

You are here, aren't you? You're not an illusion?

I may be an illusion, but I'm most definitely here.

[Kathryn] And her husband is played by Allen Ennew.

You must promise me that in future

you'll only come and talk to me when I'm alone.

[man] My dear Madame Arcati.

[woman] I'm afraid I'm rather late.

[Kathryn] And also in this play was Allen's wife, Madeline,

who is playing a psychic.

I may have to go into a slight trance,

but if I do, pay no attention.

[sombre music plays]

[exhales heavily]

[Clare] The last time I was here

was when 'Blithe Spirit' was a production.

Mmm. There's Dad.

It's a very typical 'Dad in Theatre Club' look.

There's Mum.

You know, my dad loved this place. He loved acting.

And Mum did too. She was a good actor.

There's the program there.

Who's in it.

And then...

a bunch of photos, so...

It's this one.

There's a couple like this, with Dad and Carolyn.

Just this moment caught where they're looking at each other

and I just go, "Yeah."

You know, that's the sort of vibe that my mum would've got hold of.

Because the emotions were real, right?

They weren't just acting.

[Kathryn] I don't know all the details of what went on there.

But definitely a relationship was developing

and a friendship and an attraction.

The silliest thing I ever did in my whole life was to love you.

[Jill] They say a grand passion is like an insanity,

and it was for both of them.

I came because the power of Charles's love

tugged and tugged and tugged at me.

Didn't it, my sweet?

Yes, there was a lot of sneaking around,

which happens in an affair.

But lots of presents and flowers and gifts.

I did have to keep a secret.

I could see how happy they both were.

I mean, I cared deeply for Madeline as well,

so that was very difficult.

[Jill] The risks that Allen Ennew and Carolyn took,

the notes that were left on the telegraph pole at the end of the road,

on her car...

I saw one at the supermarket when I was there one day.

Walked past her car and there was one of these notes.

[man] "My dearest, most precious Carolyn,

"I love you."

[woman] "You are a wonderful man.

"Kind, thoughtful, understanding."

[man] "I love the thoughts of our ultimate togetherness,

"which I now see as inevitable."

Allen Ennew had moved out of his home

and had rented a little flat.

Madeline wasn't coping at all.

She lost a lot of weight very quickly.

[Jill] I remember one day she told me she was going to kill herself.

I said, "Oh, you can't do that."

Her two boys were at university in Sydney.

Her daughter, Clare, was 18.

She said she couldn't be jilted,

she couldn't be left on her own

as someone left for the younger person.

She couldn't deal with that humiliation.

And I spoke to my GP, and he said what people used to say in those days.

He said, "Oh, if they talk about it, they don't do it."

And he was a well-meaning man,

but that was wrong.

Allen found the body.

And she'd organised so that Clare wasn't home that night.

And, sure enough, everything in the house was tip-top.

Food was made for her own funeral.

[sniffles]

In her letter to me, 'cause she wrote suicide letters,

she told me not to blame my father, and, honestly, I don't.

I don't blame anyone in this story.

It's just really hard being the child of that story.

You know?

It's all very tragic to think about the fact

that these two women in this play are now dead,

and the ways that they died.

Carolyn was... she was devastated by it

and felt incredible guilt.

I would say that Allen Ennew,

he was very sad about Madeline

and it was a traumatic and hideous thing that happened

and he found her.

But he was so obsessed

with the fact that one day Carolyn would come to him,

and so he bought this big house.

That was going to be the home with lots of bedrooms

so that they could have

all their children there eventually at times.

That was his idea.

No one wanted to be divorced.

No one wanted to leave their husband.

Because there was a lot of stigma in the community.

Not today, but back in the '70s, dead right.

And '80s.

If she left the marriage,

she was concerned what, I guess, the parents of her students, the church...

She felt enormous shame

for going against what she'd been taught

as far as her religion was concerned.

Religion was a big part of growing up in the '50s and '60s.

Huge. You know? Everybody.

It was rare for a family not to go to church.

[Jill] When she told us that Allan Stuckey had found out,

I thought, "Right, now, something will happen now.

"Either she will stay with him or she'll go with Allen Ennew."

But at least it's not this terrible, dangerous game

that they were still playing.

[man] "You've distanced yourself and made me resentful

"by taunting me with Allen Ennew.

"If you do not love me,

"then I cannot go on to even try to work things out."

My mum decided to stay with my dad.

And he made her swear on the Bible

and he wrote vows for her to take.

[woman] "I swear never to say or do anything again to hurt you."

"I swear never to lie to my husband Allan ever again."

"I swear that the affair is over completely

"and that I will never do anything directly or indirectly

"to have any type of relationship with him again.

"I swear to love, honour and cherish you

"for the rest of my days."

I asked her if she was worried for her own safety.

And she said no. No.

She said, "I'm not. But I am worried what he might do to Allen Ennew."

[man] "Allen, if you should have any thoughts

"of trying to rekindle the relationship

"or even getting in touch with her in any way,

"then I will tell you now you will join your wife."

[Vicki] But she was very unhappy.

She... Well, she'd just had a baby.

Um...

It must've been so stressful for her.

And she had two little boys as well.

[woman] "My darling Allen,

"to choose to go to you meant the disruption of a family,

"gossip and talk about the cause of Madeline's death.

"To stay with Allan meant unbearable pain for you.

"For me, it meant an ache inside

"which I know will be with me every day for the rest of my life."

She'd supposedly broken off with Allen Ennew,

it was over,

suddenly she was seeing him again.

And I said, "Allan Stuckey will not let her go without a fight."

We always knew

that he was a man who would not be able to accept it.

Like a lot of people, I suppose.

And then he puts a private detective on her? Good God!

She thought Allan Stuckey had, um, been having her followed.

I think she said a "little grey Volkswagen".

"I think I'm being followed."

Um, to which I just thought, "Oh, my God, where's that gonna go?"

There's absolutely no excuse for that behaviour.

Monitoring someone's movements

is a huge indicator of family violence, of coercive control.

I find it really disturbing that he did that.

That he felt justified in doing that.

[man] "My darling,

"I'm going to ask you again for the complete peace of mind -

"have you had any contact since your vows?

"I beg you, I implore you, do not tell me a lie."

"It is the most important question you will ever answer."

"All I know is I love you more than anything.

"Allan."

I happened to be in the station on 31st January 1985

when the phone rang, and I answered it.

There was a male voice on the other end of the phone.

Very calmly said,

"It's Allan Stuckey from 5 Banksia Court, Lismore Heights."

And I said, "Yes, Allan, how can we help you?"

And he said, "You'd better come up. I've just shot my wife."

You know, when you did your training at the Police Academy

one of the things that I do remember very clearly

that they instilled in young police

was that domestic violence incidents, attending those

was the most dangerous situation that we would go to.

Of course, you know, I was anxious

approaching the house under those circumstances.

And, you know, we went into the house

and Allan Stuckey was sitting in the kitchen at a bench.

He was just sitting there calmly, sipping coffee from a mug

as though nothing had happened.

It was... Yeah, it was quite surreal.

I walked into the main bedroom and there was a double bed to the right.

At the foot of the bed was a female person.

It was quite shocking, obviously, what had happened, to start with,

but also having the, you know,

the three children in the house at the time.

And... yeah.

By good fortune, perhaps, nothing happened to them at the time.

I was teaching down the other end of the peninsula here.

Out on the playground on duty and my husband pulled up.

I said, "What are you doing here?"

He said, "Oh, I've got some terrible news to tell you."

I turned the radio on. Next to the bed.

And it said, uh...

that a 32-year-old Lismore woman had been shot dead overnight.

Police were at the scene in Goonellabah.

And we knew.

It was fairly hysterical in our house. There was...

We were incredibly upset.

Allan had killed Carolyn.

And, as a child, I just had no concept

of what that... how that could happen.

I can still remember the feeling

and thinking, "Oh, my God, I could've stopped this."

That was something I think a lot of people thought.

In a case like that, a murder,

or an unlawful killing of someone,

we call out the detectives, they come to the scene,

they take over the investigation.

The lead investigator was Detective Sergeant Don Cuell.

Senior Constable Will Palmer rang me at home.

Told me that there'd been a shooting and a lady was deceased.

We, uh, went back to the police station

where he was interviewed in the presence of his solicitor.

Given some of the answers and whatnot,

I'd say that he'd ran through a lot of the possible situations

with his solicitor prior.

Which he's entitled to do.

[policeman] For the information of this record of interview,

what is your full name?

[man] Allan James Stuckey.

I had reason to doubt her fidelity,

and I engaged a private investigator to check her movements.

[policeman] Can you tell me what happened?

[man] She admitted that she had been with Allen Ennew on that day.

She said she couldn't give him up.

[policeman] What did you do?

[man] I took the rifle from my study and raced back to the bedroom.

She screamed and grabbed the barrel of the rifle

and we struggled.

Shots were fired.

[policeman] When did you load this rifle?

[man] I was going to shoot a flying fox a couple of months ago,

and that's when.

[policeman] Did you leave the magazine loaded

with live cartridges in this rifle in your study?

[man] Yes, but it was right back behind the bed

so that it's not easy for anybody to get at.

[policeman] What happened then?

[man] I had a shower and tried to compose my mind

and work out if I should kill myself or not.

I rang my sister to ask her to come and collect my children

and it occurred to me that there was a debt that I hadn't paid,

and that was to the private investigator.

And I rang his residence to tell him that his money was in the work safe.

I didn't want to feel that I had left some money owing.

[policeman] You have explained to us

your wife's affair with the person Allen Ennew.

Is that the only reason you can give us for this shooting having taken place?

[man] Yes. And considerations allied to it, yes.

[policeman] Is there anything further you wish to say in relation to this matter?

[man] Just that the affair has been going on for two years.

That's all.

[Kathryn] I was three months old.

My brothers were four and eight.

And to have the children in the house when he did it.

I mean... you can't imagine that scene.

I don't think you can make sense of it. It's unforgivable.

Should never have happened.

Um...

I mean,

the type of thing that was going on happens all the time.

People don't die for it.

After he was charged with murder, Allan Stuckey was bailed.

The reason he would've got bail is because of his standing in the community.

He was a chemist. No prior convictions.

His young children were still there and he's not gonna decamp.

So Stuckey got bail. Went back to work, I think.

Well, my dad was charged with murder.

Um...

But the trial wasn't for a year and a half.

It was quite surprising to me, I think,

when I realised that

my brothers and I were at home with my dad a lot of that time.

He was able to get out, resume a normal life

with his children, with his three young children,

back in his house in Lismore Heights

and go back as a practising pharmacist of all things.

Despite the fact that he had killed Carolyn

he still had the legal right to dispose of her body as her husband.

And he just simply had her cremated instantly

with no ceremony.

And nobody had a chance to recognise

what had happened or to say goodbye to her.

It was just as though she'd been put out with the rubbish.

I've always wanted to know everything about it.

You know, like, everything surrounding it.

And I've always wanted to know

what happened, how it happened,

why it happened.

That's been a lifelong journey.

I want to understand where we were and where I was

and what happened afterwards,

and why the decisions that were made were made.

So, part of it is just wanting to know about my own life

and know information and put those puzzle pieces together.

[woman] So, this is the trial transcript.

And are you feeling okay about looking at it now?

I am. I feel a little bit nervous about it.

- Mmm. - Um... I don't know.

There's a part of me that sort of wants information

and, like, sort of wants to look at it

and then a part of me that finds it quite, you know, upsetting.

- Absolutely. - So, um...

So, in this trial

your father argued that he acted in response to provocation.

The provocation in this case was said to be

that Carolyn was having an affair.

They're arguing that a person's actions contributed to their death.

Yeah.

The provocation defence is actually a partial defence.

It will reduce your culpability from murder to manslaughter.

The guideline of the provocation and the evidence required

is that it comes back to what an ordinary person would do

under those circumstances.

So, in other words, you and I,

would we react the same way as Allan Stuckey acted

given the circumstances?

People's marriages break down.

I'm a lawyer.

And I hate being a family lawyer, but somebody's gotta do it.

And it happens all the time.

But you don't turn around and kill your spouse.

[man 1] Your full name is?

[man 2] William Arthur Barclay.

A consultant psychiatrist now in private practice.

[man 1] Are you able to express an opinion as to whether that conduct

could have induced an ordinary person to lose self-control

in psychiatric terms?

[man 2] Yes, I believe so.

There was a certain element of, um, if someone was wronged in that way

then they could be excused for not being able to control themselves.

Does an ordinary person get a gun, which is already in the house, loaded,

with three young children in the place?

Does an ordinary person do that?

And does an ordinary person shoot his wife?

And does an ordinary person have a shower,

ring a friend, ring his solicitor?

Does an ordinary person do that?

The person that they've killed is no longer able

to give their side of the story or talk about what they went through.

- Mmm. - It's very one sided.

And it's highly critical of that person.

And then at the same time you also get people giving evidence

about the positive characteristics of the accused.

[Kathryn] Yeah.

[man] When you spoke to your brother,

can you describe how he appeared to you to be?

[woman] Extremely upset.

[man] What sort of person is your brother?

[woman] A very serious minded,

very moral, quiet, shy,

very idealistic person.

I also think very naive.

[man] Is he a violent sort of person?

[woman] No, no, not at all.

He loved the children, he always has.

[man] Did he ever express to you the view he took of marriage?

[woman] That marriage is a sacred thing.

[Kathryn] It seemed so odd to me

that none of her friends got to speak for her, at least.

Because she wasn't able to speak.

So, it's like there were other people who could've at least

spoke to her character

and given some indication of what she was going through.

I just... Yeah.

Yeah, it becomes a very one-sided sort of view of what happens

in that situation.

- Doesn't it? - Yeah. Yeah.

Sometimes the prosecution could go much further

in the way that they approach this

and in trying to ask questions

and get more information about that context.

They don't always understand the dynamics of family violence themselves

and the importance of it

for understanding what happens in domestic homicides.

What we really needed in this trial as far as the prosecution was concerned,

we needed someone that was going to get in there

and fight like a bulldog and shake their head and carry on.

And unfortunately we finished up with a golden retriever.

I was appalled at the lack of prosecution.

I mean, I remember sitting in the back of the court

and just thinking, "Oh, my God!"

The worst thing about trying to recover from this

for all of us

was that there was so much shock and horror

because she was this "scarlet woman".

We would hear, indirectly,

about the outrage, about what this woman had done to this poor chap,

not what this chap had done to this poor woman.

Yeah, I just think there was this mind-set that...

she's the villain in all this, she's done the wrong thing.

And, in a sense - I hate to say it -

but some of those people, I'm sure, think she got what she deserved.

[Deborah] So there's quite a lot of evidence

in relation to the ballistics,

what sort of weapon was used and how that weapon is operated.

[Don] Carolyn was shot three times.

Once in the abdomen, twice in the head.

Oh. This one's gonna be really graphic.

[Don] After the first shot, she's wounded and lying on the floor.

And she wouldn't have died from that shot either, the doctors have said.

Surely, he should've realised what he's doing.

Two more times he cocked that gun and fired it again.

And this is a bolt-action gun. A bolt-action .22 rifle.

So, it's not like a semi-automatic where you just have to pull the trigger.

There was a manual requirement to reload that gun.

Or you could probably just do it like that. That's one. Bang!

Two.

It's a very deliberate action. That's what I'm trying to say.

[Deborah] Yeah, there is quite a lot in the trial transcript

about whereabouts in the house the shooting occurred.

There's a map that's been provided as part of the evidence.

Let's see that there.

This was my bedroom.

This is my dad's room still. All the way through my life.

I go into this room every day that she was...

you know, lying here dying.

And just...

- [Deborah] Yeah, that's horrible. - Yeah. It's awful.

[man] He was, undoubtedly, at all times a man of exceptional character

and obvious good standing in the community.

The prisoner's control of himself over a lengthy period

ultimately snapped

when his wife told him she could not give up her lover.

In the circumstances,

some response on his part would not have been unreasonable.

However, to shoot the deceased three times

was hardly proportionate to the devastating verbal message.

It was greater than the circumstances warranted.

In my view, the prisoner is unlikely to again offend against the law.

The prisoner's strong, subjective matters,

unlike many other cases,

provide the basis for specifying a non-parole period

which will give him the opportunity

of resuming his life in the community and with his children

at a reasonably early time.

Allan James Stuckey,

on the charge on which the jury has convicted you,

I sentence you to penal servitude for eight years.

I specify a non-parole period of three years.

[hushed murmuring]

"She, like, sort of made me do it.

"She ran off... you know, went off with another man."

It was all, "Poor me, poor me, I'm the victim here."

Yeah, it makes me really furious, actually.

I have difficulty reconciling the fact

that this matter resulted in a conviction for manslaughter.

I really do.

But, of course, I have to accept the court's decision.

That's the system of justice that we have in this country.

Even though we don't have provocation defence available

in most states in Australia anymore,

we still see the same explanations

for why men acted the way they did in these cases.

The provocation narrative can still be used

to understand their actions

when they're considering sentencing.

I asked him one time, like...

said something about the fact that he had never apologised to us.

And he was, like, "I don't owe you or anyone an apology."

- [Deborah] Wow. - Like...

The absence of the impact on the children

- is really striking as well. - Yeah.

It felt like a real sense of, like, what's best for my father

and really centred around him

rather than thinking about us

and the long-term impacts of the decisions that were made.

The actual conclusion of that drama

was catastrophic for the children especially.

So these are, um, letters

that my dad wrote me when he was in prison.

So I was probably about two or three years old.

Most of them are, um...

...like, pictures of birds that my dad has drawn.

Or trees.

"Dear Kathryn,

"it is Sunday here as I'm writing this and the weather is very poor.

"There is a big fog all over the camp

"and it is just so thick it is almost like rain.

"This is a kookaburra.

"See his big, strong beak for eating meat.

"Sometimes they eat snakes

"and their song is just like a laugh.

"Love, Dad."

My father served 22 months for killing my mother.

On his release, my brothers and I went back to live with him.

I was about four years old.

[Jan] I was appalled that he could be given custody of the children.

I cannot understand how the court made an order

that she was to live with her father.

I really cannot understand that.

So, this is a picture of me in primary school.

I excelled at school

and I had a lot of friends and I enjoyed it.

But it felt like a different world when I went home.

I felt a real disconnect between

what I was showing people and what I was experiencing internally.

I wasn't allowed to talk about my mother.

There weren't photos. There weren't stories.

I didn't have any sense of who she was.

Her name was never mentioned.

The story that I was told

was that she had done this awful thing,

he had snapped and then he killed her

and really framed as this sort of accident.

I feel like there was a really significant shift

in my relationship with my dad

when I went to high school.

I really felt like I'd become someone that he really didn't like.

Where there was this sense of, like, entitlement and control

and that if you step outside of this little box

that he's kind of put you in,

then you become this huge disappointment

and you're uncontrollable.

I knew that I had to be a certain way,

show that I was fine,

even if I was suffering.

Feeling like at any moment love will be withdrawn.

I just remember bumping into her one day

and I knew it was her birthday

and I took her around to the cafe and we had an ice chocolate

and we had a chat.

She told me that she understood

that her mother was leaving her and the boys.

And I just said, "No, that's not true."

[inhales deeply]

[tearfully] That's what her father had told her.

Um...

And I told her...

...that there was no way her mother would've left her.

And the lies that she'd been told

were just... not right.

When I was 16, I needed to get my passport.

And I needed to get a death certificate.

And so it was the first time I actually had seen

her cause of death, like, written down.

Which was something like "the effects of a gunshot wound to the head".

Which was incredibly confronting for me at 16

because nobody had ever said that to me.

They hadn't actually said, like, "This is how she died."

I remember that feeling of reading that death certificate

and being really shocked at, I guess, the bluntness of it.

But just also that that was what it was.

You know? Um...

That my dad had shot her in the head.

That knowledge made me realise that I was unsafe, actually.

Like, physically unsafe.

And it's not... It's like I felt that before.

But I had this example of like how far he could go.

I felt scared of my dad at that time.

And what he could do.

Because I was also just living on my own with him at that point.

My brothers had left home.

And I think, why didn't anyone else, why didn't the adults, you know,

ask some questions, check in?

All of those things.

It's not like people didn't know that that was fucking strange.

That was a weird thing

that we were growing up in the house that our mother was killed

with the man that killed her.

I think there was an assumption that everything was fine.

Everyone wanted it to be fine.

So I thought, "Well, if I'm not fine,

"then something's wrong with me, not them."

I started having nightmares about her death.

Like, very graphic nightmares about, um, her being shot

in this house that I was living in.

And it was also just, like, my everyday house.

You know, like, come home from school and make myself a snack

and, you know, sometimes I would watch something with my dad

and it was funny and we'd laugh and...

It was just my life.

And it was also terrifying at times.

Yeah.

I knew that to have any sort of peace

that I needed to leave Lismore.

And I finished my last exam,

packed up my stuff one day when my dad was at work

and just left.

I actually don't remember saying goodbye to my dad at all.

So I went to Sydney.

And moved in with my cousin Elle and the family.

And we went to uni together at Sydney Uni.

At some point, I got a job at Sydney Theatre Company,

and that's where I met Tanya.

Kathryn's my best friend, my former partner.

We met in 2008.

Neither of us had been in a queer relationship before.

So our falling in love was a really beautiful time

and also complicated time.

We had, like, a great crew of friends

that we spent time with and saw a lot of art.

We were super broke,

but it was a beautiful kind of love story

and then also, like...

interwoven with a lot of trauma and pain, I guess.

I felt like I would leave behind everything that had happened,

including that feeling of... I guess, you know, depression.

I just assumed that that would go away

once I was out of the house and away from my dad.

And...

it didn't.

In fact, it felt worse.

I was more depressed. I was really depressed.

I don't think I've ever seen Kathryn asleep.

And we were together for four years.

Insomnia and nightmares were a big part of our life.

They would sit bolt upright and they would be screaming.

It was a guttural scream.

And they would be shaking, hyperventilating.

It was just fear. Just... just fear.

How anyone thought that he could raise those kids

in the home where he killed Carolyn

and then have one of them grow up with physical likeness to this person

and for people not to think

that there was going to be some problems there,

perplexes me.

My father was still in regular contact with me

and writing me letters that were pretty awful.

Some days we would be

going about our days in our tiny little apartment

and it was like living with someone that wasn't there.

Like, they were the closest person to me in the world,

so when they did disappear...

it was difficult.

And I didn't know what to do.

And it was during that time

that I went through a lot of things in my life.

A break-up with Tanya.

That brought a lot of grief, um...

and loss into my... to my world.

So I started going to therapy,

like, really seriously for the first time.

And really started dealing with my childhood.

So, in 2013 I dropped my surname, Stuckey.

And I made my middle name my surname, which is Joy.

And Joy was my mum's middle name.

Part of it was not wanting to just be easily tracked down

by my father.

And then there was really embracing my mum

and that side of the family.

[birds twittering]

I always felt like I wasn't going to be around for very long.

Like I was going to have a short life.

Like my mum.

I worked out how old she was when she was killed.

Which was 32 years, nine weeks and six days.

And I worked out what date that will be for me.

And it's 27th December 2016.

So I have a cut-off date in my head.

And I have about six months.

I've always just assumed that I would die sometime before then.

That's... that's it for me.

Part of feeling like I'm not going to be here next year

is not having a mother

to kind of see what that looks like,

what that next part looks like and getting older looks like.

And a lot of people look to their parents for that.

But part of it, I think, is just that I...

feel like we're somehow the same person.

And that's probably not the healthiest thing in the world. [heavy exhale]

[sighing softly]

So it's like 2 a.m. or something

and... I can't sleep because...

I've never been able to take sleeping pills

because they give me these nightmares.

I feel like having them around is probably not a good idea.

So...

[exhales softly]

I'm supposed to be at therapy today.

I had to cancel it because I can't afford to go.

Like, I'm 32 and I can't pay my rent.

I think that's enough for today.

[sniffles]

I really didn't want to do this today because I feel awful and...

[sighs]

...and I'm afraid of... not coming out of it.

[sniffles]

[exhales]

Today is December 26th.

So, tomorrow...

I will be the exact age that my mother was when she was killed.

[Kathryn] So, today is New Year's Day

and I'm alive.

So that's... kind of strange.

I've just realised how many people in my life are willing to help.

And it's a really beautiful thing, so...

I guess, just thinking about the next couple of months,

thinking about how I'm going to survive.

And some of those things are just kind of practical things

to do with work and finding another job.

[sighs]

I think I need to learn to drive.

I will...

...I guess, be back tomorrow.

For such a long time

the only thing that I knew about my mum

was the way that she died.

Then that became my whole relationship with her.

It's been really important to me

for her to exist as a person who lived

and not just a person who was killed.

I decided that I wanted to write to some people

and, like, ask them...

...what my mum was like.

So, we're going to Brisbane to meet Anne McKinnon.

A friend of my mum's.

I'm excited

because I never really knew what happened to her.

We couldn't get a lot of information.

We lost our friend,

but you don't know what happened to the children.

I probably had never thought about it from the point of view of the child.

Their feelings and what their lives turned out like.

[Kathryn] When my mum was younger,

I think they studied together at teachers' college,

from what I know.

So, it'll be nice to hear about...

...I guess, those days before my mum was a mother too.

You know? Just her as a younger person.

May I hug you? Is that okay?

Perfectly. Oh, you beautiful girl.

I just wanted you stand next to me like Mum and I.

[gasps] Oh, my goodness!

- [Anne] You're a little bit taller. Look. - [Kathryn] Wow!

- [Anne] That's going to the ball. - [Kathryn] Oh, that's a beautiful picture.

- [Anne] Oh, we would've been 18. - [Kathryn] Wow.

- God, you're like her. Oh, my God! - [laughs]

- It's so nice to see you! - It's so nice to see you.

- 'Cause we buddied up. - Mmm.

And we used to just wake up at ten to 9:00,

put the Levi's on and the gym boots

and tuck our hair in and jump the fence and go to uni.

We had to go nine to five in those days.

It was very regimented, mark the roll, you know.

And she started skipping.

I said, "You gotta come to Social Studies!"

She goes, "Ohh..."

[Kathryn] Yes! I love this inf--

- I love this, 'cause this is so me. - And I'd say, "Get up!"

She goes, "Ohh, I can't be bothered."

I said, "Oh, you'll fail." And she did.

- [Kathryn laughs] - Anyway, she got through it.

- She... Yeah. - Yeah.

- She was messy. - I'm really messy too. [laughs]

- Are you messy? - I'm so messy.

- Show me your hands. - I'm so untidy.

- You don't get eczema? - I do, yes, yeah.

So did she.

And this is a recipe.

That's Mum's writing.

Oh, yes! She had such neat writing.

Carolyn. And that's rum cream pie. I've got a copy of that.

- So you have that. - Amazing. Oh, thank you.

You have that.

This is my little treasure trove I got out.

I'm gonna veganise this recipe and make it. [laughs]

- Well, you keep all those. - [Kathryn] Thank you.

[Anne] You know, you're more than welcome.

It was so nice to meet you. Thank you so much

- It's just been wonderful. - It's been really lovely.

And I really hope we can catch up again and stay in touch.

- Thank you. Ohh... - Give me a big hug.

I decided to get in touch with Allen Ennew.

He was the man my mother fell in love with, had an affair with,

and ask some questions about my mum.

[man] "Dear Kathryn,

"the first thing I should mention regarding our relationship

"is that while it started as an affair,

"it developed into much more.

"Carolyn was a very special person to me.

"But not only to me but many friends she had

"and was and is sadly missed

"even after all this time."

I had also received a letter from Clare during that time.

She contacted me

after she had heard that I'd reached out to her dad.

And we just became really good friends.

And such a big anchor for me.

While we didn't have the same experience,

there were so many things that were similar

and there was just a real understanding

of our families and that town and everything that happened.

I don't think I've ever really been around here much.

Ahh! Greenwood... That's...

I feel like that name was in the trial.

So, this is the house where my dad and your mum

we're planning on being together.

So, Dad bought this house thinking

that you and your brothers would move in here.

And, of course, your mum.

This would've been your home.

- And yours. - And mine.

Yeah, I mean, I guess it's a different... whole, like, life that...

...could have been.

And that being, yeah, taken away.

From her and from us.

From all of us.

[sighs]

[Jill] When you said that you used to think,

"Where are those people who were my mother's friends?

"Why aren't they helping me?"

I just... You know, that was devastating to hear that.

I knew your father's animosity to anyone who was from that time.

But maybe we should've gone past that.

You know, maybe that's...

You know, we should've been brave...

I guess, selfishly we were all looking after ourselves as well.

- And... - We were afraid too.

I was scared to ask questions 'cause I didn't know who to ask.

And, like, it was honestly like it had never happened.

But I just imagined that every time anywhere you went

that people would have said, "Oh, you know..."

I'm sure they did. I mean, that's the thing too.

Growing up knowing that other people...

Well, not even knowing but feeling

like people were talking about you all the time.

- Did you? - [Kathryn] Yeah.

You know, we could... [exhales deeply]

...can handle anything but the silence.

- [Kathryn] Yeah. - [Jill] Yes.

I hated that everyone always was so careful.

I mean, I know it was a protective thing, but that...

Yeah, we... [inhales]

It's like, I've already lived through the worst of it.

Yeah, the worst part is not speaking about it.

So, I went back to Banksia Court,

my old street that I grew up in.

But I was with Helen and Lyndel, my two old neighbours.

[Helen] Wow.

[Lyndel] How do you feel coming back? And have you been back before?

I think I've driven past once

in the last, you know, 20 years or something.

But I haven't, kind of, stood here and...

[Helen & Lyndel] Yep.

[sighs]

It's... hard.

Yeah.

I remember it being a really dark house growing up.

I mean, I don't know if that was my state of mind or...

- But the house itself felt really... Yeah. - It is a dark house. Yeah.

And I feel like the curtains were always closed.

Did you notice the difference

between, like, when my mum was there and after?

Like, did it feel very different?

I remember being here to look after your brothers, Kathryn,

when your dad took you as a little baby.

And I just was sitting in the house

just feeling the enormity of what had happened.

And how dark and, you know, um...

You know, your mum was always vibrant

and there'd be snacks and lots of activity happening

and giggling, and...

The sense was just that huge contrast between...

you know, this is now and here on.

But I think now we get to grieve that.

- [Kathryn] Mmm. - Whereas back then we didn't.

Because we didn't know how.

- There she is. - Oh, there she is.

I feel really angry about the fact that it says "passed away".

- [Helen] I was just looking at that. - [Kathryn] It just makes me really mad.

Because he... he did this.

[Lyndel] She'll always be older than me.

I'm 52 and I still look at Carolyn as...

- [Kathryn] I know. Isn't that strange? - [Lyndel] She's always gonna be...

[Helen] Your mum read this to you when you were a baby.

"I carry your heart with me.

"I carry it in my heart.

"I am never without it.

"Anywhere I go, you go, my dear..."

[woman, VO] "And whatever is done by only me

"is your doing, my darling.

"I fear no fate.

"For you are my fate, my sweet.

"I want no world.

"For beautiful you are my world, my true.

"I carry your heart.

"I carry it in my heart."

She loved you so much.

The three of you so, so much.

[Kathryn] I had been having these thoughts about doing a memorial for my mum.

Make a space for all of us to talk a bit more about her

and have some ritual around it.

I felt like I needed that. Like a grief ritual.

And...

And I felt like other people did too.

[birds whistling, twittering]

[Tanya] Kathryn wanted to do something in Lismore.

To bring together friends and family, to honour Carolyn.

They ended up finding this outdoor cathedral.

Which was so beautiful and, yeah, really connected

Kathryn's kind of environmental spirituality

and Carolyn's faith.

- [indistinct chatter] - [Kathryn] They're amazing.

They're just one for each person.

[sighs heavily] Gosh.

[Kathryn] So many people, really,

were just waiting for me to ask.

You know, like, really actually wanted the opportunity to speak about her.

- Hi! How you going? - This is my daughter.

So nice to meet you.

- How are you? - Good to see you.

This is the first photo of Kathryn's mother.

So, Carolyn would've been around four to five.

[Kathryn] Ohh. It's a beautiful photo.

Kathryn did an amazing job of organising the memorial.

She got all sorts of people came together.

People that I hadn't seen for years were there.

That made it emotional because we knew why we were there.

[Tanya] It was also a real time of connection and beauty

and community.

[Jill Brodie] And it was amazing.

And it was so cathartic for all of us there.

Emotion was so raw, so real.

It was as if it was a week after something had happened.

And I'll never forget it.

I just wanted to welcome everyone here.

You probably all know it's Carolyn's birthday today.

And I feel like maybe if she were here

she would put on some spectacular dinner party,

she would print out menus.

Her attention to detail, I have heard, was pretty spot on.

Carolyn, your death came before

the groundswell change of public outrage

at the incidents of domestic violence

that blight our community.

Even now, 30 years later,

I find it difficult to speak without

getting a little bit of a lump in my throat.

And today is closure for me as well.

And I just... I'm so happy and so pleased to see you,

the embodiment of your mother,

and with the approach to life that I think she would be very, very proud of.

I've been trying to put words to how I feel about my mother

my whole life.

The feeling of being part of her, and her me,

but also the absence, of something missing.

Happy anniversary of your birth, Carolyn Joy.

You have lived in my heart and mind and body

since the very first moment I took breath.

[sniffles]

And you will be there until the last.

And in that way, you have lived far longer than your 32 years.

[sombre piano music plays]

[Kathryn] That my mother died as a result of family violence,

I didn't think of it that way for so long.

Because there was this idea that

that was just an anomaly in my dad's behaviour

instead of an actual act of family violence.

That was also a crime against us.

Or should have been.

That was a really big shift in my thinking.

I started working on the research project at Melbourne Uni

that aims to improve support

and better understand children and young people

who have been bereaved by a domestic homicide.

Acting in the best interest of the child is seen as secondary

to ensuring that the accused gets a fair trial.

But also, how much are they supported to have agency?

So it's not just about having a voice, it's actually that that leads to change.

Yeah, it's a bigger issue than probably people have realised.

[Kathryn] Yeah, totally.

Bev is somebody that I interviewed for our research project.

I hear a gunshot

and I'm like, "What the hell?"

And I see my mum being shot in the back.

[Kathryn] And how old were you at this point?

I'm 11 at this point.

I can't remember how many shots in total, but the final shot was to the head.

I still see that image pretty much every day.

How do we heal from this experience?

Do we ever really heal?

Where do we stand and what do we have left to do

here in this space?

Because there is a lot more...

- So much to do. [laughs] - ...to be done in this space.

And we're gonna do it, Bev.

[Bev] 52 women a year are dying.

These women are mothers, grandmothers,

someone's aunt, someone's friend.

Where are the voices of those who are left behind?

[Kathryn] I think that the work that we're doing

and what we're fighting for

will make a difference to children and young people.

Children are primary victims

in this situation.

Like, it's a direct crime

against them as well.

The men who commit these crimes

are considered intelligent, charming.

They might not fit the stereotype of what an abuser looks like.

And my dad was those things.

I don't have any relationship with him anymore and I don't...

I practise very deliberate non-forgiveness.

I don't know my dad now.

So, I can't really speak to the person he is now.

But the further away I get the more clearly I can see

what it's like to be in an abusive relationship.

And that was an abusive relationship.

So, me wanting to come back to him,

him to be proud of me and be in his favour,

yes, that's a child wanting that.

But that's also somebody

who is going through the dynamic

of somebody else's push and pull

and somebody else's control.

I don't have him in my head anymore.

So many of the depressive kind of episodes that I've had

are around that stuff that I can't change

no matter how much therapy I do.

And that's where activism comes into my life.

I think, that's where I go,

"Well, I can't just be doing interior work."

I feel like if you're gonna live in this world,

you have to do something.

I love the concept of Killjoys.

Of feminist Killjoys, specifically.

Sara Ahmed,

who is an amazing thinker and writer,

and she coined this term.

People who are willing

to sort of not stay quiet about injustice.

And I have been called a killjoy.

And I embrace that.

I think it's a good thing.

I'm not here now as, like, some healed human.

It's ongoing.

It's always kind of navigating my mental health

and experiences and trauma.

Being almost 40 now

and realising that my mum only got to 32...

For me, my thirties have just been

such a huge time of understanding myself.

And she didn't really get that time.

I think if I could speak to my mum now...

I would... tell her I loved her.

And let her know that...

...my life is, like, so full.

I don't just have to tolerate being sort of okay.

You know, I'm actually allowed to feel good.

I'm in a new place where I feel like I might actually live for a while.

I mean, who knows? Who knows what will happen?

[sombre piano music plays]

[light chatter and laughter fade out]