Lizzie's Tale

by Graham Wilson

  Chapter 25- Lizzies Tale

  Two days later, a large Sydney Morning Herald headline screamed out from the newsstands:

  ‘Child Rapist - Prominent business man Martin Wallis dodges Justice Incontrovertible evidence of their role in the rape of two fourteen year old girls and one fifteen year old girls in Sydney over the last ten years ago never made it to court three days ago. Mr Martin Wallis and two other prominent Sydney businessmen used a legal technicality to avoid facing charges of rape in the Sydney Supreme Court on Monday this week. Now it is up to this paper to seek right for these victims.

  As reported in this paper the judge used a legal technicality to dismiss charges against three men, Mr Martin Wallis, Mr Daniel Ashcroft and Mr William Brown, determining that almost all the evidence was inadmissible and therefore the case would not proceed to trial.

  This decision has defeated the hope of justice for these three girls, despite each being brutally raped, in a pre-planned and calculated matter by these three men. This denial of justice has occurred despite sworn statements clearly identifying these men and telling of their actions, both by these girls and by many other witnesses who have corroborated these events. There is also clear photographic evidence of these men’s crimes.

  Previously the Herald has not been able to publish these details due to the cases being before Court. However now all these cases have been dismissed the Herald is free to publish the results of its own investigations into the actions of these three vile and cowardly men. It encourages these men to sue it for defamation if they consider they have grounds. It would look forward to this evidence being tested in court should this arise.

  In the meantime this publication is the only way the Herald sees for a measure of recompense to be given to these three brave girls who, despite many threats and intimidation, have each come forward to tell their stories.

  For those of you, our readers, who feel the same level of outrage we do, please make these sentiments known to your local elected representatives. Demand they fix this legal nonsense.

  Based on this travesty of a legal decision the Herald calls on the Attorney General to investigate laying new charges against these men.

  It also calls on the publicly listed company Newcastle Transport, for which Mr Martin Wallis is Executive Director, to take prompt action to terminate his appointment in this role, as one unfit for such a responsible position.

  For full story see Page 3. For the story of one of these incredibly courageous girls, and how she had rebuilt her life after this awful event see ‘Lizzie’s Tale’ on Page 5. This gives the true and full story of the school friend of our investigative reporter, Julie McCredie, which was featured two years ago as “Sophie’s Story” to huge public interest. You may feel you already know the tale of this remarkable woman, now read how it really happened.

  Some readers turned to page three and read the lurid details. Most turned to page five and read Lizzie’s Tale. Many could be seen sitting on park benches, with the newspapers open on their laps, some with tears running down their cheeks.

  Lizzies Tale – Story by Julie McCredie

  I tell this story of my friend, Lizzie and how I betrayed her, to my ongoing shame. Lizzie was the brightest girl in my class and my best friend at Balmain High School in 1963. We did our intermediate certificate together and she was dux of the year. She had her life before her and her future was bright even though her family was poor, just a mother and a small brother. Her father died in an accident over six years earlier. Now, to help her mother pay the bills, she worked all her free time, ironing, baby-sitting, doing laundry; anything that paid a little money. She had little time to study but she still got top marks.

  On the Saturday after the school year finished I went to her fifteenth birthday party. She was so proud and happy, her mother had scrimped and saved everything she owned to buy Lizzie a beautiful dress; a dress her Dad would have been proud to see Lizzie wearing.

  At this party I introduced Lizzie to my friend Carl Richards. Through him she was introduced Martin Wallis and his two friends, Dan and Will. I did not really like or trust them but I never tried to warn or protect Lizzie from them, she was just a naïve and trusting teenager. She had barely met any boys before as she had been so busy working.

  They invited her to come to a party the next weekend. As I wanted to go with Carl and needed Lizzie to help me trick my parents into letting me go, I encouraged her to come too. On the way to the party, Martin took us to a hotel in Darlinghurst. There he plied Lizzie with glasses of sherry. Lizzie had never tried sherry before. I could see she was getting drunk.

  Then at the party I went off with Carl and left Lizzie with these three men. They continued to give her champagne to drink. I could see she was getting really tipsy and unsteady on her feet, but I did not try to look after her. Later I looked for her but she had disappeared, along with Martin and his friends.

  An hour later Martin was back but there was no Lizzie, he said Lizzie had gone home sick, catching the bus. He had a funny grin on his face, as did his friends, like they seemed really pleased with something they had done.

  Next day I went to Lizzie’s house to see how she was. She did not want to see me but when her mother let me in she was lying on her bed, crying and crying. She told me to go away, she would not tell me what had happened and I did not really try to find out.

  Lizzie dropped out of school, stopped seeing her friends, got a job at a factory. No one could understand what had happened to this beautiful and happy girl, we forgot about her.

  The next time I saw Lizzie was seven months later. One winter’s day Lizzie came to see me at boarding school. She said she wanted to say goodbye and was sorry for being awful to me, she was going to Melbourne to live, just by herself. She had saved seventy pounds at the factory. Lizzie was now seven months pregnant. She asked me to tell her mother. She was determined to have the baby. She knew if she stayed in Sydney she would be forced to give up her baby for adoption.

  I made Lizzie tell me what had happened on that night and she did.

  When Lizzie was getting really drunk and needed to sit down, Martin walked her out to his car and got her to sit in the back seat. He sat next to her, putting his arm around her so she could not get out. Then despite her protests Will and Dan got into the car as well. They took her to the beach at Nielsen Park, just her with three strong men.

  They said, “You didn’t think we brought a pretty little poor girl out to a party just to admire her did you. Now it is time to pay us back for being nice to you.”

  Then two of them held her down while the third on raped her and each took their turn. When they were finished they said she would be stupid to tell anyone, because no one would believe her.

  In shame and terror Lizzie ran off and finally found her way back to her home next day while her mother was at church. She would tell no one. We, her friends, made little effort to find out and help. Two months later Lizzie discovered she was going to have a baby from that awful night, her only time with a man; she had never even held hands with or kissed a boy before.

  She did not know what to do and at first tried to pretend it was not true. Then she felt the baby move and knew she wanted to have it, she decided that she would love this child despite its awful conception. She knew that if the secret came out it would be taken from her and she was determined not to let this happen. So she hid her pregnancy and saved her money.

  At the same time she made a plan that when her secret was found out she would catch a train to Melbourne and have her baby there and find a way to keep it. On this day, when I saw her again, the factory where she worked, had just discovered her pregnancy and sacked her.

  Now this fifteen year old girl, with only seventy pounds, was going to a city where she knew no one, so she could keep her baby, a baby that was the result of that rape by these brutal men.

  When I found this out I was so ashamed at my part. But Lizzie said to me, “Don’t feel bad, you could not ha
ve known what would happen. And despite the awful way in which it happened, this baby is something to be loved and cherished.“

  Next time I heard from Lizzie was a few months later. She was in Perth waiting for the boat to take her to Broome. She had her baby, Catherine, now just ten weeks old with her. At first Lizzie had tried to support herself by working in a café, but when she was down to her last ten pounds she had taken a job as a prostitute.

  She said it was simple; her only choice was to do this so as to be able to keep and feed her baby. There was no self-pity; in fact she was proud and in control of her life. She had now saved three hundred pounds. Then someone had found out about her age, still not sixteen, and the baby. They told the authorities and she knew they were searching for her. She realised she must leave Melbourne that afternoon or Social Security and the Police would come and take her baby away and place her in a remand home. So she caught a train to Adelaide and then Perth. She was still running.

  So she went to the farthest side of the country, just her and her tiny baby to start a new life again. The letter said not to worry about her, her life had been hard when first she came to Melbourne, but now she was rich and going to a new place, where no one would find here. Here she knew she could make a new life for herself with the money she had saved.

  The next time I heard from Lizzie was over two years later. She was now eighteen. She owned her own café in Broome, and had two thousand pounds in the bank. She sent me a photo of her and second photo of Catherine, playing with other children in the street. They both looked beautiful and so happy.

  For Lizzie all those bad things were a distant memory and she looked forward to seeing me again one day, she said in another year or two if her business kept growing she would fly to Sydney with her baby to see her Mum and she would visit me too.

  She said she had left her life as a street girl in Melbourne behind, as she did not want her child to grow up with that, even though she had no personal shame. It was a necessity that life had forced on her, but she would prefer that her daughter and mother did not know.

  The years went by and for a while I heard no more from Lizzie. Finally I heard from Lizzie again three years ago, another letter which told me the last part of this tale. One of the men who had raped her had discovered she was living in Broome. Now he came to see her.

  He told her that the three men who had raped her before, along with another man who had tried to abuse her in Melbourne, were all coming to Broome in a week’s time. They all knew she was there and they expected to spend a night with her, “to repeat their former pleasures,” he said. If she did not give them what they wanted they would tell the whole town of her life as a prostitute. They also threatened harm to her daughter.

  Lizzie was terrified; she did not know what to do, she was in fear for her daughter, in fear for herself. Perhaps she should have fought back, asked her friends for help, gone to the police. But these were powerful and wealthy men; it was her word against four of them.

  She took the only choice she could see, she ran again. This time she took her car, and her six year old daughter and a handful of possessions. She was almost totally unprepared but set out to drive across the desert to Alice Springs. Somehow, in her panicked brain, she felt that safety lay with distance and she must keep running, putting distance between herself and these evil men.

  A hundred miles into the desert Lizzie’s car broke down, leaving her and her daughter with almost no water or food, in a barren and pitiless landscape. Almost certainly she would have died, had it not been for a couple strange, almost miraculous, coincidences.

  One was a friend of her childhood, Sophie, from back when she was eight years old and lived in their house in Balmain. Sophie came to her daughter, Catherine, appearing in her mind. She told her the way to a small pool of water, hidden a mile out in the desert. This water kept them alive when they otherwise would have died of thirst.

  Three days later they were rescued by a group of aborigines who took then to their own place in the desert. These people fed them, they shared their houses. They hugged and played with Catherine, they made Lizzie into one of their family.

  So Lizzie now lives in the desert with a small aboriginal tribe. Since going there she has married her true love. They now have two more children. She and her husband Robbie are the happiest people I know.

  They share all they have with these aboriginal people and these people share all they have in return. Lizzie teaches all the children to read and write, Robbie helps with building and fixing things, the people share their knowledge of the desert and share their desert food, they teach her children the aboriginal ways and stories.

  When I asked Lizzie to help me pursue and bring to justice these evil men, those who raped her when she was fifteen and fathered her first child, she agreed to do so. But she told me it was not in retribution for herself; she needs nothing from them and nothing they or anyone else can say can touch her happiness anymore.

  But she said she needed to do it to stop them from hurting others, Mimi and Alicia and the many others whose names we do not know but who are out there too. Lizzie was not the first person they raped, and there have been many others since. We only know of three so far, but we know there will be others who hide the same secret.

  So Lizzie says to them all, to Mimi and Alicia who she has met and hugged and cried with, and to the others to whom she would give her love if she knew your names.

  “Have courage, speak out, tell your story! Do not let them make you run and hide like I did.”

  And to us all she says; “Do not allow this outrage to go on. Do not allow these men to hide from their crimes through a legal fiction. Demand justice for them all. Speak!