by KATE HUNTER
I did it again this morning. Even though I told myself I wouldn’t.
Along with most of Brisbane, I gossiped about the Baden-Clay case.
I was at my daughter’s netball practice, and another mum said her husband, a lawyer, couldn’t help with the kids this morning because he had to be in court.
‘His client isn’t named Gerard, I hope?’ I joked. Ha ha ha.
Sometimes I despise myself.
Because as soon as the words were our of my mouth, I looked at our 9 year old girls darting about the netty court – their biggest concern being pulled up for stepping. Then I shut up, remembering the three Baden Clay girls aren’t actors on CSI or characters in a book, but kids no different to mine. Except they’ve lost their mum in the worst of circumstances – violently and famously – and now they face losing their father too.
Brisbane works hard to shake off its ‘big country town’ label. But like any city, we’re a collection of gossipy little villages. It’s three degrees of separation in suburbia, and you don’t have to look far to know someone who went to school with Allison Baden-Clay, or worked with her husband, or whose parents knew their parents. The rumor mill is working overtime, and last night, updates on Baden Clay’s arrest filled the boring bits in the State Of Origin telecast.