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Juliet Darling - A double spring : a year of tragedy, grief and love

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Juliet Darling A double spring : a year of tragedy, grief and love

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Raw and beautifully told, this is the story of Juliet Darlings year of devastating grief after her partner was murdered by his schizophrenic son, as well as a story of the power of love

Nick died in the southern hemisphere in spring. Now I am in Paris in spring. We were to have been here together. I am experiencing a double spring. Double the bitterness, double the beauty.

Juliet Darlings account of the daily events surrounding the murder of her late partner, art curator Nick Waterlow, by his son Anthony is a moving story of a deeply personal formative experience. It is a passionate and urgent look at the ordinariness of evil, the intractability of fate, and the interconnectedness of art and life. Ultimately it is a story about the power of love, and how love can be sustained through grief. It is also a book about what it was like to live in the shadow of an impending death, which seemed to be foretold. It is about a grief that began long before death. For all involved, it seemed they were powerless to do anything to change the sinister course of events. They were living in a senseless, dreamlike state; in a state of mind where they knew something but they didnt know it at the same time. The events unfold with utmost simplicity, stripped of any falsehood. The small banal events which matter the most form the greatest part of this tale of almost unbearable suffering. This is a story of powerlessness and grief, families and friendship, fear and trust, and anger and love

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A Double Spring A year of tragedy grief and love JULIET DARLING First - photo 1

A Double Spring

A year of tragedy,
grief and love

JULIET DARLING

First published in 2013 Copyright Juliet Darling 2013 All rights reserved No - photo 2

First published in 2013

Copyright Juliet Darling 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218
Email: info@allenandunwin.com
Web: www.allenandunwin.com

Cataloguing-in-Publication details are available
from the National Library of Australia
www.trove.nla.gov.au

ISBN 978 1 74331 505 7

EISBN 978 1 74343 226 6

Internal design by Kirby Armstrong
Illustration by Torey Wahlstrom
Set in 11/15 pt Sabon Pro by Bookhouse, Sydney
Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Nick Nick Waterlow OAM was born in Hitchin UK in 1941 He was one of - photo 3

For Nick

Nick Waterlow OAM was born in Hitchin UK in 1941 He was one of the first - photo 4

Nick Waterlow OAM was born in Hitchin, UK, in 1941. He was one of the first international independent art curators. His work as the director of three Sydney Biennales helped the Biennale become an international showcase for contemporary art.

He held many key positions in the Sydney art world, and was for twenty years the director of the Ivan Dougherty Gallery, College of Fine Arts (COFA), University of New South Wales, where he curated and oversaw many original and thought-provoking exhibitions.

While Nicks passion was for contemporary art he was sustained by great art from all eras, and in all fields. He could discard the trivial and the mediocre, glide over the inessentials and, with his discerning eye, look for the good of what is made. He held no creed: he was open and sceptical and when he was critical of art it was always for the sake of truth.

Nicks empathetic nature allowed him to engage with all kinds of people, and with a tireless curiosity and interest he brought out the best in others. He loved art. And he was that rarest of human beings, he loved artists, and he was utterly devoted to their calling.

I am an artist. Nick and I met in 1998. We lived together with my son for ten years. This book celebrates our free and precious friendship and love. But while our love and world were expanding, something sinister and hidden was gathering with a momentous force.

Nick had three children with his first partner, and his eldest son Antony suffered from schizophrenia. Antony was never scheduled or treated for his illness. There were all manner of warnings and forebodings but no one was able to interpret them or stop the intractable course of events, until the evening of 9 November 2009 when, in a frenzied knife attack, Antony killed his father and sister.

This book is my perspective of what it was like to live in the shadow of an impending death; with the weight of the tragedy and the bitterness of grief. It also honours the acts of charity and grace that arose from it. Ultimately, it is a story of love.

Juliet Darling
Sydney

Contents

But the monstrosities and the murderous days,
How do you endure them, how do you take them?I praise.
Rainer Maria Rilke

There was no shortage of red flags that indicated hehad a problem, but Antony was able to manipulate theprocess. The doctors found nothing to say he was atimmediate risk. The family saw something wrong withhim, and were exposed to his unstable behaviours, butin front of doctors Antony was able to present himself,to deceive. The doctors were not able to schedule himagainst his will.

There will be questions that we will never answer. Where he went for those eighteen days well neverknow. It is one of those little blanks in the story. Wellget by without it. They are not that important to theevents.

Homicide Detective
27 March 2012

It was a little after ten-thirty on a spring night Nick had not arrived home - photo 5

It was a little after ten-thirty on a spring night Nick had not arrived home - photo 6

It was a little after ten-thirty on a spring night. Nick had not arrived home from his visit to his daughter Chloes house but I was expecting him to walk in at any minute. I was in bed reading when I heard the phone. I sat up, leant forward and held my breath to listen to the voice on the answering machine in the hallway. My heart stiffened. I recognised Nicks younger sons voice, and I jumped up and ran through the darkness to grab the receiver.

Theres something on the internet, Luke said.

What? I could hear him tapping the keys on a computer. What is it?

Ill bring it up. He was still tapping the keys.

Tell me. Just tell me.

Two bodies have been found in Randwick.

Two bodies? That means theyre dead! That means Antony has finally done it!

Er, yeah, said Luke.

Yeah? What do you mean yeah?

Where are you?

At home.

The police are arriving now. Theyre at the door.

Can I talk to them? Put them on. I heard myself crying: No, no, no, no.

There was a pause, then I heard a womans voice in the background. Then she came on the phone. Im a friend of Lukes. Just stay calm. Calm down.

Put the police on. I want to talk to them.

They cant talk to you on the phone. Stay there. Theyre going to come to you afterwards. She hung up.

I walked into the bedroom and put on some clothes. I made myself a hot-water bottle and sat motionless with the shadows moving soundlessly across the walls, my heart pounding in my chest and the blood moving slowly through my veinsin that room where Nick and I used to love one another among the shadows of the swaying branches. I closed the curtains and then I sat and stared at the geometric pattern on the Persian carpet.

At one-thirty am the intercom buzzed. I picked up the receiver. A male voice said, Its the police. I let them in then opened the front door and waited for them to climb the stairs.

The police had been here before, five years ago, looking for Antony, who had used our address on his drivers licence. They hadnt believed me when I told them that Antony didnt live here. I thought they had come to tell me that Nick had been murdered then, but apparently Antony had smashed up a backpackers hostel in Bondi and had been captured on video.

This time, two policemen in uniform entered our apartment. One of them said, The bodies of a middle-aged woman and an elderly man have been found.

Who?

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