I remember Mr and Mrs Dickie, Allison's elderly parents, driving to Brisbane from the Gold Coast on daily basis. Although they were unimaginably burdened with fear and anxiety for not only their daughter but also their grandchildren and, I'm sure, Allison's husband, they nevertheless worked to provide food and drink for all the people who'd turned out to search for Allison. Then, at the end of those very long, dark days, they drove home again. Day after day. I'm filled with admiration for them. Under the same circumstances, I doubt I could function at all
In comparison, Allison's husband's family, who lived quite near by, apparently declined to attend the search headquarters in any capacity at all
Reportedly, Allison's father in law still hasn't provided police with a formal statement. And it's been said here quite recently that Allison's husband hasn't provided one either, whether or not that's accurate I don't know
I don't profess to be anywhere near as close to my brother as OW apparently is to hers, but if I were, and if I were prepared to confront the media in defiance as OW has, I'm confident I'd be saying a lot more to my brother, such as, ' I will not support any attempts you make to seize property rightly belonging to your dead wife. How could you with such indecent haste seek to gain insurance money from your wife's death? That money should rightly go to her daughters '.
I'd also be tackling my brother about his various versions of events. I'd say to him, ' I want the truth. You've said Allison walked in this and that direction. You've said she went walking at night and you've also said she went walking in the early morning. You've claimed you were told not to attend the searches, yet the police officer you claimed gave you those instructions has apparently flatly contradicted you'
And I'd tell him in no uncertain terms that he'd placed our family, our parents, under intolerable stress. He'd shamed us via his extramarital affairs and by his betrayal of his wife - and by extension, his little daughters
If my brother's solicitors instructed me not to worsen my brother's case by mouthing off at the media, I'd hold my tongue. I'd especially hold my tongue if doubts about my brother's role in the death of his wife were beginning to seep through my armour of denial. I'd prevail upon my parents to make a clean breast of it, because I'd know that was the right thing to do, right for all concerned
Yes, I might feel humiliated by the fact my brother had been publicly charged with the murder of his wife. Yes, it would impact a great deal upon my own life, upon the life of my own husband and children. I'd know it was impacting also on my other brother and his family. I might feel sorry for myself. I would wish it would all just go away. I'd become angry that this had happened to my family. I might be angry at the media for being there to record and report it. But then I'd think of Allison's children whose mother was gone from them forever. I'd look at the faces of Allison's parents and siblings and realize they were going through as much if not more grief and pain than I. And hopefully I'd feel humbled to the point I'd accept we don't always get what we want. What's done can't be undone. The legal process must proceed. And I must prepare myself for the worst scenario
Most of all, I hope I'd have the humanity to realise before very long at all, that the media didn't murder Allison. Those at the court didn't murder Allison. Someone murdered Allison and the only person accused of her murder is my brother -- and just because he's MY brother does not make him special, just as it doesn't mean he's innocent
My friends might feel sorry for me. Being the sister of an accused murderer isn't nice. But then neither is being murdered. Neither is having your daughter or mother or sister murdered. And if I had an ounce of genuine spirituality in me, my only prayer would be for justice to be done