Chapter 10: Picking up the Pieces

Deceased

August 28 - 30, 1981

“Hello, this is Will Morris, I was asked to call,” I said, rather puzzled.

“Oh, Mr Morris, this is Senior Constable Victoria Ives from the Mona Vale police station. I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but ... sadly, your fiancée, Janelle Ward, was killed in a motor vehicle accident earlier this evening.”

The others must have seen my reaction; I could feel my legs start to buckle and give way. Garry moved to one side and Murph to the other to steady me, and Mary Beth quickly got a chair from the kitchen table, and slid it underneath my backside as they lowered me into the seat.

“What? Sorry, what has happened?” I asked, not really comprehending what she was telling me.

“Your fiancée, Janelle Ward. She was involved in a two car accident, on the Wakehurst Parkway, not far from Oxford Falls. I’m sorry to inform you, it was a fatal accident, and she didn’t survive. Do you think you would be able to come back to Ms Ward’s apartment here in Mona Vale; she’s very upset, and I hope we will have more information soon that we will be able to pass on to you.”

I sat there in silence; surely, this couldn’t be happening to me. How could she have been killed?

“Mr Morris, are you all right?” she asked.

“Yes, well, no; it’s huge shock. Do you have any more details? What actually happened?”

“There’s nothing more I know at the moment; there are officers on the scene at the moment conducting an investigation; I understand the bodies are being taken to the Coroner’s offices. It will take a while before we know the full story. Are you able to come here, by the time you get here I should know more.”

“Sure ... I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I said, and stared at the phone.

“Will! What is it? What’s the matter?” Mary Beth asked.

“It’s Janelle ... she’s been ... she’s been in a car accident. Killed,” I said. The voice didn’t sound like mine.”

“Oh, Will, I’m so sorry,” she said, and wrapped her arms around me.

“You’re kidding, mate, aren’t you?” Garry said.

“Shit! That’s terrible,” Murph said.

I sat there for a few minutes, just trying to wrap my head around what had happened. I could feel my heart pounding – at least it hadn’t switched into the strange SVT rhythm, it was just the normal rhythm, albeit much faster than normal. Mary Beth kept her arms around me, stroking my hair and comforting me.

“I need to get back to Beth’s place, be with her, and talk with the police,” I said, flatly. “I should go up there, now.”

“I’ll drive you, Mate,” Garry said. “There’s no way you’re in any fit state to drive. And no arguments, get up, and we’ll get on the way.”

“Call us as soon as you know anything more,” Mary Beth said as we headed to the door.

I slid into the passenger seat of Garry’s car – the bucket seat of his Renault Fuego wrapped around me, and with the seat belt on I felt like his car was hugging me. We sat in silence as he drove, and I turned things over in my head. How had she had the accident? The weather tonight was fine, no rain, and she was a good, safe driver. She didn’t speed, or take risks, and her car, even though it was old was in good mechanical condition and properly maintained.

The police officer had mentioned it was a two car collision; maybe the other driver caused it. I thought that around 10:30, maybe whoever it was had been at a pub, drinking, and was well over the limit. I guessed I would find out all the details, sooner or later.

“How are you holding up, Mate?” Garry asked, as we headed up the hill from the Roseville Bridge.

“Not too good,” I said. “It’s just not knowing what happened; how did it occur. The cop said both her and the other driver were killed; I just hope she didn’t suffer in a lot of pain before she ... before she died. I just wish I knew what actually happened.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out more when we get there,” he said. “Think of it; she left about 45 minutes before you did, and when you got to the Parkway at North Narrabeen, the local cops had only just arrived to close the road. So the accident probably happened about 10:30, at a guess. Not even an hour and a half ago; it’s dark there, no street lights, so their accident investigation people won’t be able to do much until the morning. I can’t see them having the road open before then; so I’ll keep going up Forest Way to Terrey Hills, and down Mona Vale Road.”

I felt pleased he was going that way; even if by some freak chance that had the Parkway open, I wouldn’t want to travel that way, even though it was the shortest and quickest way to Mona Vale. Garry pulled up in front of the apartment block, and we went up the stairs, knocking on Beth’s door. She opened it, and as soon as she saw me, wrapped her arms around me and started sobbing loudly.

I looked over her shoulder, and I saw her mother and father; both looked much shaken up. I tried gently guiding Beth back into the apartment; once we were in there, I disentangled myself from her. Her parents led Beth off to the sofa, where they continued to console her. I saw a police woman; I assumed she was the one who I spoke to on the phone, and she came over to speak with Garry and me.

“Perhaps we should talk out on the balcony,” she said, and led us out there. “Thanks for coming, it must be a huge shock to you, all I can say is I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Morris.”

“Will, call me Will, please,” I said.

“Okay, Will. I don’t have a real lot of information at the moment; we’ve still got officers on the scene, and the road will remain closed until the accident investigation team has finished. That probably won’t be until sometime tomorrow morning, once they have enough light to see things clearly, they will really start their work.

“What I can say is that it appears the other vehicle; a panel van, veered over to the wrong side of the road, and hit Ms Ward’s vehicle. That other vehicle was apparently traveling at a very high speed, and both vehicles were extensively damaged. When our officers arrived, they confirmed that both drivers had died at the scene. I know it’s not much consolation for you, but one of the officers remarked that both would have been killed instantly on impact, such was the force of the collision.

“I do know that ambulances have taken both bodies to the State Coroner’s office for a full post mortem; until that’s done, we won’t really know if alcohol was a factor. Now, if you don’t mind, would you be able to give me some details about the evening here, before Ms Ward would have left to drive home?”

She took out a notebook, ready to make notes of what I was about to say.

“Sure; actually, she wasn’t driving home, she was on her way to work, at the Royal North Shore Hospital. By the way, do you know if anyone has called there so they know she won’t be in?”

“I believe Mrs Ward, senior spoke to them earlier.”

I then told her why Janelle had to go into work; and what the arrangements were for the evening meal. She asked about what we might have had to drink, and I said Janelle probably had two or three sips of the champagne, because knowing she was going into work, she wouldn’t drink much. I had maybe half a glass, while Beth had the bulk of the bottle. I gave her a brief run-down of the timing; when Janelle actually left.

“I think that gives me a good idea of things leading up to the accident,” she said. “Thank you for that, I know it must be hard for you.”

“Hey, Mate, it might be a good idea to let your parents know, too,” Garry said. “I assume you told them earlier you were engaged. As hard as it is, I’m sure they would be hurt if you didn’t tell them.

He was right; not only about it being the right thing to do, but how hard it was going to be to tell them. I may as well start to get accustomed to it; I was sure over the next few days I would have to make lots of calls like this. I asked Beth if I could use the phone, she nodded; she was still crying. I called my parents place, and my father sounded like I had woken him.

“Dad? Will here, sorry to be calling so late, but I’ve got some pretty bad news to tell you. You might want to have mum listen in, I really don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

“Sure, I’ll get her. Are you okay? Not in hospital, or jail, are you?”

“No, just get Mum, and I’ll tell everything I know.”

I waited until I heard my mother on the line as well, and steeled myself to tell them.

“I’m back at Beth’s place ... Janelle was killed earlier tonight, in a car accident, on the Wakehurst parkway, driving back to work. I don’t have many details yet, the police are still investigating.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, that’s terrible,” my mother said.

“So sorry for you, Will,” my father added. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not okay; but I’m keeping things together. Garry drove me back here; and he’ll take me home when we’ve finished. Beth has her parents here, which is something for her. I guess I won’t know much more until tomorrow. I ... I need to go now; I’ll call in tomorrow sometime.”

They told me that they loved me, and to let them know as soon as I heard anything more. I said good night to them, and hung the phone up. That was the first of many similar phone calls I would have to make over the next few days. I sat down one of the lounge chairs, opposite where Beth and her parents were sitting. I was hoping more information would come through to Constable Ives from the police on the scene; and by 1:00 a.m., she had an update.

“One of the witness; a person who was driving behind the other vehicle, said that it was weaving all over the road, crossing to the wrong side several times,” she said. “In fact, he used the two-way radio in his vehicle to call his dispatcher – he’s a taxi driver – to get them to advise police of a suspected drunk driver. Right after that, the accident happened, and he was the one that reported it to us. There’s not much more we’re going to find out tonight; the bodies have been transported to the Coroner’s office for a post-mortem examination. That will give an official cause of death, and in the morning the accident investigators will be on site.”

I was feeling exhausted; I told Beth that I would be there later in the afternoon; but I would go home and try to get some sleep. Constable Ives said that someone from the Mona Vale office would be around during the day to provide any updated information, once they knew it.

Garry had already called home, to let them know what we had found out, and that we would be heading back in a minute or two. We drove home using the same way; up Mona Vale Road to Forest Way, then back through Frenchs Forest, the Roseville Bridge, and finally home. I was exhausted, but I didn’t know how I could sleep. Mary Beth and Murph were waiting up for us; she asked how I was feeling, and if I would be okay being along in my room. She handed me a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate to help me sleep.

“I can sit on the chair in your room if you want, just so you know someone’s there for you,” she said. “Do you want company?”

I declined her offer; at the moment, I really just wanted to be alone, and by myself. Maybe if I could get a good night’s sleep, I would feel better in the morning. I got undressed, couldn’t be bothered having a shower, I felt too exhausted. It felt strange being in the bed by myself; I was accustomed to sleeping alone, given Janelle’s shift pattern, but ... I knew inside that I would be sleeping alone for the foreseeable future. Despite being exhausted, sleep wouldn’t come to me; I got up to take a leak, then had a glass of water. Eventually I fell asleep, only to wake up covered in sweat, the bedsheets wrapped around me. I had been dreaming – a nightmare actually – of the time when I was forced off the road on the Parkway, right near where Janelle was killed. It seemed like too much of a coincidence; the situations were both almost identical, except for the outcome. I had been able to pull off the road onto the gravel; but since the Main Roads Department had put crash barriers all along that stretch of road, there was no room to safely pull off.

I got out of bed, and decided to make another cup of warm milk, and put some Milo in it. That might help me sleep. I heated up some milk, and as I was pouring it into a mug, Mary Beth came into the room.

“Not able to sleep?” she asked me. “Same here; can you make me a cup of milk, too?”

I made her a mug, too, and we sat at the kitchen table, sipping our hot Milo. She reached across to hold my hand, and squeezed it.

“Pretty tough to deal with, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah; logically I can accept she’s dead; I’m not going to see her ever again, talk with her, or anything. But inside, I still imagine that when I wake up in the morning, she’ll be just getting home from her work, and we’ll talk about how he shift went while we have breakfast / dinner. I just can’t wrap my head around what’s happened.”

“I know what you mean; do you remember how I told you about my college roommate up at UNE who overdosed, and died?”

I nodded.

“Well, it took me a long time to come to grips with that. The psychologists talk about ‘getting closure’, and say it’s a process, and you have to go through various stages in the grieving process. You will find that certain things will help you get closure; and those thoughts you have, where you will expect her to come home in the morning, or she will be there when you get home from work, they will disappear over time. Never completely, but they will get better.

“When Sofia died, the cops asked me to go to the hospital and formally identify her body. That was so, so hard; I nearly threw up when I saw her body. But that helped me get through, the same as going to her funeral. Not that what I went through is anything like what you’re dealing with. I can’t begin to understand what you’re feeling; when I was in bed, I tried to imagine how I would feel if the same thing happened to Chris; and I am sure I would be devastated.

“Anyway, the stages of grief – Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance – we have to go through those; maybe several times before we get to closure, before we can truly accept what’s happened. You’re still in that ‘denial’ phase at the moment. Just remember not to shut us out of your life, like you’ve done before. I know I can’t really understand how you’re feeling, none of us can. But we are your friends, Will, and we love you, and we are hurting for you at the moment.”

I squeezed her hand, and blinked my eyes. I felt I was on the verge of crying.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me,” I said, my voice cracking. “You really help me, Mary Beth. Now I will try to get back to sleep; I’m sure tomorrow’s going to be super stressful. Well, it’s already tomorrow. I mean later today, you know what I mean. Thanks for the words of support.”

She kissed me on the cheek as we made our way to our respective rooms. I thought about what she has said, the five stages of grief. Denial, that made sense, and Anger. But what was the third? Bargaining? How the fuck did that make sense? I guess some bright spark psychologist came up with that, and was given some shrink award for their effort.

The warm milk helped, as did the talk with Mary Beth, and I fell asleep, no nightmares this time. I woke up sometime after ten; initially not sure why Janelle wasn’t with me, until I remembered the events of last night. She would never be waking up next to me again. I had a long, hot shower, got dressed, and made myself some breakfast. I would be heading back up to Mona Vale a little bit later, but I decided that I needed to make a list of things to do – people to call, and other things that would have to be done. There were all of Janelle’s clothes in the bedroom, I would have to ask Beth what she wanted done with those.

First on the list to call was to call Jane Robinson, the nurse manager where Janelle worked. I would need to call the University, and see what bereavement leave options I had. Other names joined the list, including Cathy. I would let Mary Beth contact Lori, and she could also let Fifa and the others at Alberts know. I called Jane, she was quite shocked to hear about Janelle; she said that the hospital offers counselling and related assistance to staff and their families. I told her that I should be right, since I had a counsellor already, but I would pass the details onto Beth. I also said as soon as I had details about any funeral arrangements, I would pass that on to her.

The next call was to Michelle; I called her home number, and she answered fairly quickly.

“Michelle, it’s Will here. I’m sorry to call you at home, and on the weekend, but I’ve got some pretty tragic news to tell you,” I said.

I told her what had happened to Janelle; she was shocked, to say the least.

“Oh Will ... I’m so sad and sorry for you,” she said, when I had finished. “I guess they don’t know much more at the moment?”

“Not that I know at the moment; that was just what I was told by the police last night. I’m going back up to Mona Vale to her Mother’s place after I’ve made a few more calls, they may know something more by now. I expect in the next few days we’ll make the funeral arrangements, as soon as things are determined, I’ll let you know.”

“Do you want me to tell people here? You should give Professor Allen a call too, so he can arrange for other to take over your classes and tutorials. I’ve got his home number here, do you have a pen and paper?”

I wrote down his phone number, and thanked Michelle for her help.

“Will, you know I would do anything for you,” she said. “I can’t imagine just how you’re feeling at the moment, but call me anytime, day or night if you need to talk.”

“Thanks, Michelle. It means a lot, knowing I have good friends to support me at the moment. I owe you.”

After I had hung up, I called Professor Allen’s number.

“Murray Allen,” he said.

“Professor, it’s Will Morris here,” I said. “I apologise for calling you at home on the weekend, but I’ve got some news I have to tell you ... I’m going to need to take some time off ... Janelle was in a car accident last night, driving to her work, and ... and ... well, she was killed in that crash.”

“Oh, Will ... I’m so sorry to hear that, how did it happen?”

I told him what few details I knew.

“Take as much time off as you need,” he said. “Don’t worry about anything here, we’ll cover your classes, tutorials, all of that. I’ll call Alan Dunworth, explain to him what’s happened. Is there anything that we can do for you? You do know we have counselling services available to all staff, so if you think you need anything, call Michelle and she can organize things for you. Whatever help you need, let her or I know, and we’ll do whatever we can.”

I thanked him for everything he was offering, and I said as soon as the arrangements are made for the funeral, I would pass on those details to Michelle and him. The calls so far weren’t as hard as I thought; now I had to call Cathy and let her know. She was shocked when I told her what had happened – and when I mentioned how we had just got engaged, she started crying.

“Oh, Will, I’m so incredibly sorry for you, damn, you must be devastated,” she said. “Life is being so cruel to you. I guess it’s too soon for you to know any details for the funeral. As soon as you do, let me know; I want to come up and be there. She’s ... she was one of my best friends all through high school, and I want to be there for you, too.”

I promised to call her as soon as I knew any more. When I hung the phone up, I felt even worse; she was really upset about Janelle being killed. Given what good, close friends they had been, that was understandable. It made it doubly hard for me to have to give the tragic news to people who were close to Janelle; I hated making people upset.

With those calls made, I decided it was time to head back up to Mona Vale. I told Mary Beth where I was going, and for her to let the others in the group know.

“I’ll do that; and when you get back this evening, we can discuss changes to the next lot of gigs in September,” she said. “You will probably want to take some time off from performing for a while.”

“No, I’ll be right,” I said.

“No, you WILL NEED to take some time off,” she said, quite emphatically. “Don’t argue with me, Will, you know I’m far more stubborn than you are. You don’t want to put me to the test, you won’t win.”

She sounded fierce, but she had a huge grin on her face. I felt myself smiling, the first time I had smiled since last night.

“I will. And thank you for making me smile,” I said.

I drove back up to Mona Vale; even though I suspected the Parkway would have reopened, I didn’t feel up to driving that way. I first stopped at my parents place; my mother was pretty upset; she was crying as she hugged me.

“How are you holding up, Son?” my father asked me. “It’s a terrible thing that happened; sometimes stuff happens for no real reason.”

I asked if they wanted to come over to Beth’s place with me; they thought that would be a good idea. If things got too much for her with them there, they could always walk the short distance back home. There were a crowd of people at her apartment; not just Beth, but her parents, and my school friend, Martin Alfonso; his mother and step-father, John Edgington – the attorney who we used for incorporating the Roberttones company.

My parents went across to console Beth; while Martin came over to take my hand.

“Will, I’m so incredibly sorry for what happened, I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess it hasn’t really sunk in yet,” I replied.

“Beth’s taking it really hard,” he said. “She called mum this morning – you know they’ve worked together at the hospital for years – and wanted her help. John’s handled heaps of situations like this, he really knows all the paperwork involved in accidental deaths, how to file stuff, all the things with probate. He’s going to be doing all that for her, and take a huge load off her shoulders. Have you got a few minutes to talk with me; there’s just some details I want to get from you to help.”

“Sure, not a problem.”

“Okay, do you know if Janelle had made a will, or any life insurance policies?”

“Will? No, neither of us had anything like that. Insurance, we both have our superannuation through the State Government Employees’ Super scheme, which has an ‘accidental death and dismemberment policy’ as part of the scheme. I know that just this last week we both sent in the paperwork to change the beneficiaries of our policies to each other. I’m pretty sure all the documentation is back at home.”

“Fair enough; what about bank accounts, stuff like that?”

“Her main account is with the Health Employees Credit Union; but she also has a Commonwealth Bank account and Bankcard, too. That stuff is back at home, too. I’m pretty sure that’s about all the financial stuff she had that I know of.”

“We will have to work out a way with Beth, see if we can get someone to help go through her things, her clothes and personal possessions that are at your place,” he said. “I don’t think either you or her are really in the right frame of mind to do that at the moment.”

We moved back inside, and I sat on a sofa, opposite where Beth and my parents were sitting. Beth appeared to be looking a little better than she had late last night, when I was there after the accident.

“Tell me, Will, did you and Janelle ever talk about funeral plans, or did she indicate what she might want for her funeral?” John asked me.

“Well, not really, we had only just started talking about what we might want for our wedding,” I said. “Wait a minute, there was something; a month or two ago, we were watching the weekend news, and there was some important person’s funeral. There were tons of flowers, everywhere, and she made the comment about how much money they much have cost, and surely something far more beneficial could have been done with that money. So maybe can we have ‘no flowers by request’, but instead donations to the Children’s Cancer Fund, or something like that?”

“I think that would be an excellent idea,” Beth said. “She was so dedicated to those kids...”

“We were thinking about having cremation, rather than a burial,” John continued. “Do you have any objections to that?”

“Well, it’s not really up to me, is it?” I said. “But I have no objections. Now one thing that you could consider, they have a memorial garden at the hospital, where kids and their parents can go to, sit in the peaceful area, get out of the wards. I seem to recall them having a memorial wall there where for kids that didn’t survive, there was an option for their ashes to be placed there. So maybe that’s an option for her ashes...” I had to pause for a second. “Maybe her ashes could be put in there?”

“That sounds a lovely idea,” Beth said. “Who would we have to speak to for that?”

“I’ve got the name and number of someone there who can help with support,” I said. “They would know who we would need to contact to arrange for that.”

We talked a little more about funeral arrangements; when there was a knock on the door. It was one of the local police officers, with an update on the accident investigation. The officer was familiar to me; Constable Dave Whiteman; he was one of the ones who had interviewed me just after that near miss on the Parkway several years previously. After apologising for interrupting us, he passed on the latest information.

As expected, Janelle showed almost no alcohol in her bloodstream, while the other person had a blood alcohol level of 0.05; still below the legal limit of 0.08 percent. From interviews with witnesses, it appeared the other vehicle had been weaving across the road, crossing onto the wrong side several times before the collision. Based on the evidence, the conclusion was that the other driver had somehow fallen asleep at the wheel. The only other news was that the coroner had completed his investigations, and Janelle’s body was ready to be released, once there had been a formal identification done. He gave us his card, saying we could call him if we had any further questions, and then he left.

I noticed a look between John and Martin; John looked first at me, then back at Martin; Martin nodded his head, then looked at me.

“Got a minute, Will?” he asked, inclining his head towards the balcony.

I got up, and we went outside.

“I’ve got something to ask you, something for you to do,” he said. “It’s not going to be an enjoyable task, but something that has to be done.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

“You heard Dave Whiteman say Janelle’s body is ready to be released,” he said. “Do you think that tomorrow you would be prepared to come to the coroner’s office and do the formal identification? Usually it’s a family member, or someone close to the deceased. Beth isn’t in any state to do that, we don’t want to put her through that so soon. But as Janelle’s fiancée, and the fact that she was living with you, qualifies you as someone who can make that formal identification.”

“Yeah, not a problem,” I said. “I guess it has to be done, so there’s no point ignoring it.”

“The coroner can’t sign the death certificate until there is the formal identification, and until then, we can’t get the funeral director to schedule the funeral. It’s not a very pleasant task, just to warn you. And her body might be ... well, fairly badly disfigured by the accident. Do you think you can handle that?”

“I guess so; I mean, it has to be done, whether it’s pleasant or not. Will you pick me up, since I don’t know where it is?”

I gave him my home address, and we agreed on him picking me up around 1:00 p.m.

There wasn’t much left to talk about, I told Beth about the plans that Martin and I had made, and I eventually made my way home.

As we had agreed, Martin arrived at my place early on Sunday afternoon. He seemed pretty impressed with the house; and I briefly showed him the studio up above the garage.

“It’s just about ideal for us,” I said. “We had something similar at the terrace houses in Erskineville, but this is larger, and we have plenty of storage for our equipment at the back of the garage.”

“So, what’s it like living on the lower North Shore?” he asked.

“Actually, Lane Cove isn’t too bad,” I replied. “The actual village area, where the shops are, has a nice feel to it; almost like the village area at Mona Vale. Transport to the city is good; there are regular trains going through Chatswood and Artamon, plus buses. Quieter at night that it was in the inner City; when I first moved to Erko, it took a week or two to get accustomed to how noisy it was.”

We talked more about living in various parts of the Sydney area; at least it got me distracted from what the main purpose of the afternoon was. When we reached the city, I decided it was time to ask Martin exactly what the procedure would be.

“So, when we get to the Coroner’s office, what’s the process?” I asked.

“Pretty simple really; one of their people will take us to the morgue, where they should have Janelle’s body out on a gurney, covered in a sheet. When you’re ready, he will uncover her head and shoulders, and assuming you recognize her, then you say something like ‘Yes, that’s Janelle Ward’. Then we just sign some forms, and that’s it. Feel like you’re up to it? It’s not a particularly pleasant task.”