Below is a letter written by Ros Bradshaw for her daughter Anthea. In April 1994, Anthea Bradshaw married her high school sweetheart in a beautiful Adelaide wedding. Just 96 days later, she was found lifeless in a pool of blood, half a world away from home. In the Just Married podcast Nine’s Ben Avery investigates what really happened to Anthea.
I miss you terribly and struggle daily with the loss. I don’t know how I can continue to live like this.
The images of what might have happened to you in that Brunei apartment haunt me constantly. I wonder about your final moments and the fear you must have felt. It pains me deeply to think of anyone hurting you without remorse or love.
Your absence has left an unfillable void in our lives.
At 80 years old, and with my health declining, I find it increasingly difficult to cope without you. The thought of leaving this world without seeing your killer behind bars weighs heavily on my heart.
I long for closure and answers, hoping that the truth will one day come to light.
The year 1994 was devastating for our family. I turned 50 years old, your younger brother Paul turned 21, your eldest brother Craig was 28, and you, my beautiful girl, were engaged, married, and murdered – all within that terrible year. Your funeral at our cherished Tusmore Park Uniting Church was heart-wrenching.
Losing your father, my husband of 57 years, on what would have been your birthday, January 11, 2021, only compounded our grief.
If you have any information about this case, confidentially and securely reach out to Ben at justmarriedpodcast@protonmail.com
When I first heard the news of your murder, I cried out, wishing I could have been there to protect you. Your father and I always dreaded something like this happening, feeling helpless to prevent it. I believe any parent who loves their child would feel the same way.
I’m grateful for your true friends who have supported you and our family. Their loyalty means everything, and I’m sure you would appreciate their steadfastness. It saddens me to think of those who haven’t stood up for justice in your case. Perhaps one day they’ll realise the importance of their actions.
When I go to shopping centres now, I often find myself in tears as I see mothers with their daughters and grandchildren. It hurts knowing that we’ll never share those moments.
Now, all I have are the precious memories of our time together. I cherish the days we would sing together, your gorgeous voice bringing joy to our home. I can still hear those beautiful songs. Your warm, radiant smile remains etched in my mind. The photos of you wearing my clothes, which you so loved to do, are treasures I hold dear.
Anthea, the fight to uncover the truth about what happened to you in Brunei on that day in 1994 has consumed our lives. It has brought us decades of grief. But the person who took you away from us should know, we will never give up.
Anthea, I love you so much. I hope God will help us find the justice you deserve.
