Christine

It was an ordinary Sunday evening in the midst of daylight savings, still light outside the sun slowly setting and the heat still in the air. With a late meal across our laps and watching television, an image I thought that I had forgotten flashed across in front of me on the television. An old photograph of a dear friend at my birthday party wearing a paper hat. It was the 1980's, in Innisfail, North Queensland, a wet rainforest town in between Townsville and Cairns. I lived in the lush small town with good mates Bob and his defacto Christine for several months. A butcher by trade Bob would come home from work each day with lunch for us all, either a pound of sausages, bacon or chops and cook them up for us. We were all young and our lives very Bohemian, unconventional in the true sense of the word. We took each day as it came lived off the land, ate and drank ourselves to a stupor and smoked every illegal weed available to us. Christine a small fiery Kiwi, with a mouth that could outlash any male at any given time and feisty, boy was she feisty. She was adorable though, to look upon she had huge baby blue eyes that caught everyone's attention with soft brown flowing hair that was often tied back with cloth and a delicate smile. She wore loose clothing of every colour of the rainbow and often barefoot she ruled the roost. Chris and I had the very same sense of humour and we laughed at everything and nothing! One day I was giving her a ride into Townsville on my motorbike and we started laughing on the way at absolutely nothing which was often the case, but because we laughed so hard I almost crashed and then Chris peed her pants. it was hilarious, at the time of course. The worst part about it though was I had a king and queen seat on my semi chopped bike, so as she peed it ran down from her seat onto mine. I sat in her pee all the way to Townsville. We were in hysterics and were great mates, all the three of us. We had first met in Townsville where we all had lived at one time or another and so we traveled up and down the coast with several other good friends regularly and camped out in places such as Mission Beach and Cairns. We partied hard but stopped to take photographs of the beautiful country and take in the scenic views. Bob had the best camera and was a bit of an amateur photographer. Many photos were of his dear Christine and the rest of our times and travels together.
The party I refer too was my 20th I think and we had a small celebration at the house in Innisfail. Plenty of booze and drugs we basked in each others company and regaled endless stories. They often told me I looked like Cat Stevens at the time. We listened to good music and laughed at each others jokes, fun all round was had and no expense was spared to accommodate my birthday. Did I mention we were all the best of mates! The sad tale was to end though in such abhorrent circumstances, circumstances which none of us would or could have ever imagined.
After many years and one with child, Bob and Christine did finally go their separate ways. Christine moved to The Sunshine Coast in Queensland, whilst Bob rode off on his own to Coffs Harbour northern N.S.W.
As I heard it announced the room fell silent my blood chilled and my heart stopped for a moment in time.....Christine Nash had been murdered and her killer released after serving one month in a psychiatric prison. Christine's killer was the son of a high ranking police official and so he pleaded temporary insanity to the count of first degree murder. What an atrocity for her and her family, this injustice didn't go unnoticed by the likes of the media and the victims of crime organization. The story produced by 60 minutes told of how a few years earlier Chris and her son Wade, of around 10 years of age went bush walking in their town of Coolum when Wade fell down a cliff face. Immediately out of nowhere this young man scaled down the cliff face to rescue young Wade. He was hailed a local hero and was written about in the daily newspaper. Wade and his rescuer formed an immediate friendship which led to a relationship between Chris and the hero, Wade's rescuer. After a couple of years the relationship headed downhill and this is when the troubled started. This man stalked Chris and was quite violent toward her. He perused her relentlessly and to no avail did Chris ever escape his twisted and morose love. Whenever the pair got back together violence and jealousy entered into the subjection. Wade now frightened involved his grandparents who also had moved from New Zealand to be closer to their daughter and grandson had grave concerns for both of their safety, but with the high ranking police official as the stalkers father their hands were tied and their fate sealed.
Little did anyone know at the time that this affair would be the demise of Chris and the lives of every one involved indelibly would be changed forever. On the last evening that Chris's son and family saw her alive she was happy and contented with her life. She had lived and laughed and of recent days discovered Jesus; She had written in her journal of Him and of the readings in her bible that she had came upon. These were the last notes Chris had ever written....
It was a warm evening when Chris went out for some unknown reason, maybe to meet with him one last time to tell of her disdain for him and to inform him of her intolerance of his verbal and physical abuse. She was hounded with incessant phone calls and ramblings of a mad man on the opposite end of it, she had no alternative but to then change her phone number. Whilst out walking he came upon her whilst driving about stalking her. She was in a secluded bush area which I believe he waited for her to near before his criminal approach. He pulled to the kerb and sprang upon her like an animal about to devour its prey. Startled she let out screams of tormented fear and hurled abuses at him but in his passionate rage he beat her with white knuckled punches and kicked her to the ground. Defenselessly she tried to fight back but her tiny frame could not match his large masculine build and tirade of testosterone fueled blows mingled with incomprehensible fury. Her face was ripped open and bloodied and her perfect blue eyes that had seen so much beauty and so often had smiled, immediately were spilt open then swollen shut and blackened with deathly blows from his now bloodied fists. Her teeth were now gone, some knocked to the ground the others swallowed as he kicked her in the head and face over and over. Broken ribs and crushed lungs she gurgled as breath was hard to take in, her body quivered in shock at this incredible assault on her now limp body. Hair pulled out by the handful lay in the blood stain grass beside her and Chris struggled to cling onto life. This hero to the local community just a few years earlier stated on the police interview, "I could see she was in a bit of trouble, so I helped her out" He then strangled her to death.
Chris's body lay empty of it's life now a shell of what was once a beautiful woman, a caring mother and a close friend. Two women on their morning walk discovered her body in the open paddock the next day near the local school, unrecognizable blood soaked and black from perfuse bruising neither did her family see any resemblance to their beautiful daughter of 32 years. No one deserves to die this way! The memories I have of Chris are in my heart and I still laugh at the times we shared together, the joy she brought many and the lives she had touched.
I still see her face splashed across the television screen, its surreal, I cannot get passed the fact that she is dead and suffered these atrocities. To me we are still laughing riding motorbikes and smiling, farewell Christine....God's speed!

For the man who took her life away, he walks free amongst us.....

Rinaldo