Dancing with the Stars is on tonight. This was always our thing. If one or other of us wasn’t here, we’d record it. I don’t know if I can get interested this year.
I had a wonderful surprise at work today. The staff in the neonatal unit presented me with a love quilt made by them for you. This gesture of support and love has come from my workmates at a time when I need it most. All the nurses at NICU have been greatly affected by your death. Needless to say another flood of tears. It looks fabulous on your bed, but I so wish you could see it. I wonder if I shouldn’t change curtains to go with the quilt, something bright and cheery and some extra pillows. Have to think about that.
Another day at work. Can’t get at all enthusiastic — would really like to leave. Can you believe that after 25 years I’ve lost interest? I know you wouldn’t want me to give up but can I go on?
A memorial service has been arranged by the university chaplaincy service in consultation with us. They have been great and you would be humbled by them, especially the economics department.
In the morning the chaplain brought Professor Peter Lambert up to meet us. He has come all the way from Oregon in the United States just to be at your service. Can you believe that? What an amazing man. We had a lovely talk and he explained how he just felt compelled to come — he doesn’t know why, said he wasn’t particularly religious but felt God had given him a message. He was the visiting prof last year who gave you an A+ for your essay on equality. He is going to have it published in a journal put out by Oxford University. Several of your tutors spoke glowingly of your abilities.
Dad and I wrote you letters again. We had your slide show and music which brought many tears. Dean David was there for us. Family and friends were there for you and even some police officers. John Whitehead, Secretary for the Treasury, came down from Wellington. It was all very touching. We had your box of ashes there and at the end of the service we carried them out.
Everyone gathered around your cherry blossom tree and plaque, which was covered. A blessing was said and Dad turned some soil over around the tree and I uncovered your plaque. Seems so final! Not sure how we will ever inter your ashes.
Today is Palm Sunday. Dad and I went to church and it reminded me of when you used to make palm crosses. It was mostly a waste of time being at the service as we cried and I really didn’t benefit from being there. On the way home I put a cross by your cherry blossom tree.
I worked today but didn’t feel like it. My heart’s not in it any more. Dad is finishing off thank-you cards to so many well-wishers. When I got home he said Mike from the police had rung and said the post-mortem report was out but they don’t want to give it to us until after the depositions. We are furious. We know it’s going to make awful reading and we will be upset but we’d rather do that at home and in private than go to court and hear it from a stranger for the first time. I know what I saw and we know Clayton desecrated your body further so I don’t really think we can be shocked much more. We are also annoyed that the defence can see the report but not us, your parents.
Today we head to Oz and are really looking forward to seeing your brothers. We need to be together — I know I will cry because you are no longer with us, but we have to be together and be strong for you. Mind you, if you were here and it had been one of us, you’d have been distraught too. We had four hours in Auckland. Auntie Ngaire and Uncle Roger came out to the airport and we had lots more hugs and lots of talk. They are so good to us. Ngaire said Linda cries frequently. She is really upset still — sounds a bit of a softy, just like you!
Soph,
Had a great time with Nick and Chris today. We talked about you and reminisced and while we tried to be chirpy it was also sad and for me very emotional. While there we showed Heather the funeral slide show and we all cried. You don’t know how much you are missed. I try not to talk about you too much and yet I really want to talk about you all the time. I have your photo on my phone so I can hold you close. Heather shouted us to Spamalot, a musical comedy based on the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Great music, singing, costumes and lighting. You would have loved it. I kept thinking of you and how much you would have enjoyed the show.
When we finally got home from our trip I had a big meltdown and just couldn’t go to work. I rang the hospital and told them I couldn’t come in and we packed up the car and headed for Christchurch. As usual Dave, Ann and Michaela were pleased to see us. Tuesday we went and saw Grandad. He is so upset about you and just cannot understand how his granddaughter could be murdered. We spent a couple of hours with Grandma in her new flat. Dad took her car away to get a warrant so Mum and I had a good mother/daughter chat.
The university chancellor came to see us to talk about your graduation — not a problem with him, he said, and he had it on his agenda for a council meeting the next day. The vice chancellor had earlier declined our request to allow conferring a posthumous degree ‘in person’, as it were. It had never been done in the past 140 years. Degrees for people who have died are always presented at a private function, but we weren’t having that. You worked so hard for that degree and died at the hands of a lecturer, so to us that was sufficient reason to go to the chancellor and put our case. He couldn’t see any problem. Promised to ring us on the Tuesday night, which he did and said it was fine. Yahoo! You get to graduate on 10 May. I know how much you would have enjoyed your moment of glory and it is so sad that Weatherston took away that pleasure from you and from us. We have asked your brother Chris if he will do the honours and he has agreed. Means he gets to wear his graduation regalia again and he will go up with your other honours mates. The chancellor will shake Chris’s hand, obviously make some comment and his assistant will give him your degree.
Soph, I know this is the right thing. Nick is not able to come over although we’d have liked to be together as a family. Unfortunately his company has a big job over in the Blue Mountains. His boss has been really good to him, but he can’t keep getting time off work to cross the Tasman. He will come home to be with us at the depositions, however.
While we are excited it is still bittersweet. I want it to be a celebration of your achievement and I just hope we can carry it off. It’s not going to be easy for any of us. I’m planning a buffet meal at our place after.
I have a new counsellor. He seems very nice and I feel I will get more out of him. Maybe my expectations are too high. When I want to cry, and I mean really cry, I watch the DVD of you singing at the karaoke night just two days before you died. It’s great to see you so happy and enjoying the company of your friends.
Great news. One of Weatherston’s girlfriends has spilled the beans — now I really wish you were here. She went to the police voluntarily and told them he had also assaulted her and now she was receiving letters from his prison cell. He shows no signs of understanding what he has done. You said he was sick and I think you are right. When Dad told me about her, I cried and cried. If only she had gone to the police before you met him, we might not be in this position. I’m guessing her fear of him is why her stuff was still in his flat and why she stayed at his parents’ place at graduation instead of with him.
Dear Soph,
I took your box of ashes to Central today and as I drove past the Otago Corrections Centre at Milburn I shouted and blasphemed at your murderer and asked you to join in. I hope you did. God, I hope he’s suffering. He better get used to it, he’s there for a long time. As unchristian as it is, I wish him to rot in hell. Should anything happen to him, either at his own hands or someone else’s, then I won’t lose any sleep over it. It’s not just the stabbing that gets to me, but all the other revolting things he did to you. You were so beautiful and perfect. I would see you in bra and knickers and envy your figure. He’s robbed you of all the pleasures of life and also the joy of relationships and eventually a family of your own.
I wonder what stunt he and his QC lawyer have up their sleeves. The police are not telling us much at the moment so we feel very much out of the l
oop. All we know is the prosecution team is working on putting a case together.
Talked to Uncle Dave this past week and he’s feeling down and unmotivated like us. Uncle John and Auntie Desley are the same. This is what they call the victim effect. Roger and Ngaire ring every night. Grandma is in shocked disbelief and Grandad cries a lot. Bloody awful for all of us.
I’ve been having some good days, but really I’d like to hide away and cry all day, but have to keep going for the boys’ sake. We know they are also feeling it. Chris is having counselling, which helps, while Nick struggles on. I hope he might get some help soon.
Soph, give me some guidance about your clothes. I truly cannot get rid of them yet, but on the other hand it seems such a waste, especially the new clothes you’d bought for Treasury.
Oh Treasury, I forgot. They have donated $5000 towards your memorial fund at the uni and their CEO gave a personal sum of $200. Isn’t that amazing — you hadn’t even started working there. It makes me cry again. They would have been great to work for. I wish you could know how great you were and how respected you were by those at the university. Dad always said you were brilliant and I thought he was biased so I tempered it by saying you were bright. I don’t think we appreciated just how bright you were. What a terrible waste — so much to offer.
Dear Soph,
I am so far behind with this diary. Over the past couple of weeks I have put all the sympathy cards into albums. Dad says there were about 450; we know that by the number of stamps we bought. You know how much Dad liked doing Christmas cards (not!)? Well it was a bit like that except I didn’t want any printed words inside as I preferred to write personal notes. Dad did over a hundred himself, so he did pretty well, and I did the rest. Anyway I have put the four albums in one of the large baskets together with your wee doll, just to make it look pretty. You know me.
Dad and I are having a bad patch. At least for me it’s probably a continuing saga, but we are at a point nearly four months since we’ve seen or talked to you and we are still incredulous that this has happened. Why oh why did Clayton take your life? He gains nothing out of this. His life is ruined. You were heading to Wellington, so if he hated you that much he need never clap eyes on you again. Dad just reminds me of how much we have lost. All you meant to us, all the special things about you. We keep finding your little drawings and notes around, so special, so you!
The GP has me on antidepressants and I think they help a bit. I know I’ve been told it takes longer to ‘get over it’ if you take pills but who cares, we will never get over losing you. For the rest of our lives we have to live through this nightmare. For Nick and Chris, they have lost a sister and when that murdering bastard comes up for parole they will be the ones who will have to represent you at hearings. So unfair!
Dad’s birthday. I know you would have bought something appropriate and written a special card as always. Gift and card giving was something you loved doing and you always put thought and effort into it. That was a sign of your generosity. It was also Dean David’s last day at the cathedral. God, it’s bad enough, but now he has to leave us as well. But good luck to him.
I was thinking back to the last time he shook hands with you on the steps of St Paul’s when he stood back and said, ‘My, you are a gorgeous young woman.’ You just glowed all the way home in the car!
Went to my counsellor again last week. By the way, did I tell you the first time I went he recommended a book called Power Games — Confronting Others, by Kay Douglas and Kim McGregor. I got it out of the library and cried when I read the first chapter. It hit me immediately that this is exactly what you had needed to read because I’m sure the information in that first chapter would have helped you so much. The book talked about power (mostly of men) over women and how some make you feel like shit. Low self-esteem develops because of the way they make you feel in an attempt to boost their own ego. That described Clayton to a ‘T’. When I last saw Stephen, my counsellor, I asked him if we’d ever move on and he drew a diagram on paper saying the filled-in circle is the event and the outer circle is life. As time goes on the event stays the same but life gets bigger and wider. While the event never goes away, life surrounding it changes. I can completely understand what he is saying.
I’m preparing for your graduation, but how I wish it was the real thing. Our numbers are up to 24 now as we need people around us to celebrate for you. Dad wants all the media present, but quite frankly I feel this is too personal. On the other hand of course I’d like to rub it in Clayton’s face. I’m glad we get to do it publicly.
While Chris will do it on your behalf, I know it will be special in his heart forever. This is something none of us could have envisaged — God, it’s so unreal.
I’ve bought you a graduation bear along with two silver goblets which I’m having engraved. When Dad and I die the boys can have one each to remind them of their sister’s academic achievement: ‘Sophie Kate Elliott BCom Hons Economics 1st Class.’ Wow, just what you wanted.
I have been thinking a lot about the day you died. I wish I had some answers, Soph. It drives me nuts thinking about it all the time. Your screaming will ring in my ears forever and to think I couldn’t help you.
Dear Soph,
I’m feeling absolutely miserable with a cold compounded by your graduation coming up. It all seems so unfair. I should be on a high. Dad and Chris will be home tomorrow night and I’m so looking forward to that. Winter is here with cold and frosty nights but glorious days. You know what it’s like, so warm in the dining room or out on the love seat in the sun. But of course there is one ingredient missing and that is you! I hate even thinking of you in the past tense, but I can’t fool myself that you are up in Wellington working.
Soph’s Graduation — BCom Hons Economics 1st Class — Are we proud or what? But we have to be brave.
When it came to you the chancellor said, ‘Sophie Kate Elliott, first-class pass economics, posthumous, to be received by her brother Chris Elliott.’ I don’t know how nervous Chris was, but he was proud. We stood to honour you and so did the whole auditorium. Needless to say I cried tears for both you and Chris. We know you would have been so proud. I only wish Nick could have been there too.
Once outside there were media interviews, which I think we all coped with well. Chris was asked the usual inane questions like, what was it like doing this for your sister? He said that it would have been better if she’d been here but that he was proud to receive it on your behalf and that he’s sure you would be pleased.
After more photos outside the commerce building we headed for home. Claire, God bless her, had arrived early, got the fire going and had the food ready. She was a real gem. I don’t know how I thought I could do it all on my own.
I worked a couple of pm shifts this week; you know how I hate them. I’m never good at the end of the day, I suppose I’m just tired and seem to miss you more.
It’s Grandad’s birthday today so I rang him. He’s pretty fragile and still can’t believe or understand how anyone could kill you.
This afternoon I had to go to the police station with Uncle Dave. God bless him. He flew down and I picked him up from the airport. After a quick lunch we went for our meeting with the detectives. Mike Bracegirdle is the police family liaison officer, John Hedges is putting the case together and Kallum Croudis was running the meeting. He’s officer in charge of the case. I knew it was going to be tough but honestly, Soph, I didn’t realise it would be so horrific.
They went over various issues to prepare me for the depositions hearing. I was shown the book of photographs that would be used. Kallum was very good. He sat beside me and turned each page slowly. The photographs started at the front drive then showed the house, inside to upstairs, and then finally you. It didn’t look like you, yet I knew it was. Your hair was all over the place and what Clayton had cut off he covered your face with so I guess that made it easier for me to pretend it wasn’t you. Your clothes were all dishevelled and I could see where he had cut
your nipple off. I knew what had happened to you because I had been told what to expect but actually seeing it was simply awful.
What I’m struggling with still is why he pulled you out from the corner where I last saw you lying to place you on top of your open suitcase. What else he might have done to you before the first policeman arrived on the scene doesn’t bear thinking about. I could even see his bloodied handprints on your thighs. The broken knife was lying between your legs. I asked Kallum if Weatherston had raped you, but while he said it was difficult to be certain he didn’t think so as Clayton had stabbed you through your knickers. For the sake of decency, I won’t tell you what I thought of Weatherston at that moment.
I then had to draw on a whiteboard where you were lying when that evil man slammed the door in my face. This was all bad enough but then they said they would now play the 111 tape. I had to hear it because it was going to be played in court anyway and I didn’t want any surprises. Uncle Dave and I were shocked to the core when we heard it. I’m then heard to scream ‘He’s killed her’ as I open your door and then you hear the door close. Perhaps it’s because I was told to get out of the house that I didn’t go and get a meat tenderiser or poker and go back to try to save you. I don’t know and guess I never will. As I run along the drive, you can hear the gravel crunching under my feet.
I hope you didn’t feel much pain, my darling. I can’t imagine your fear. After this meeting I was taken to meet the Crown prosecutors, Robin Bates and Marie Grills. They went over the depositions process and showed me the list of witnesses to be called. Robin said he didn’t want to put me through the ordeal of giving evidence at depositions and then again at the main trial. My evidence could be ‘handed up’ to the JPs, but I said no, I wanted to give my evidence for you. I wanted to represent you. And more than anything I wanted to be strong and composed. I wanted Clayton to hear me!
After that we went to the courthouse so I could see where witnesses went and where Weatherston would be seated. This was all very helpful and Uncle Dave was brilliant. Being a lawyer he was able to pick up on things I wouldn’t have thought of.
Sophie’s Legacy Page 6