“This is the real him.”
It was only after she left him that the extent of his misdeeds was revealed. First, there was the alleged tent incident, then she heard claims of infidelity and finally the sexual abuse of multiple women.
In the years that followed, the man was convicted of rape against one woman and of nine indecent assault offences against five women for incidents occurring between 2004 and 2009.
The judge said that most of the indecent assault victims had been vulnerable and that, each time, the offending against them had been a breach of trust.
He had been in a relationship with one of his victims, and another was the daughter of a woman he was in a relationship with. Two victims were babysitting his partner’s children at the time of the offending.
The South Island judge wrote of the “insidious and secretive” nature of the man’s offending and said it was concerning that he had had WWOOFers - farm volunteers - staying on his rural block.
For the indecent assaults, the man was sentenced to three-and-a-half years imprisonment and directed to pay an emotional harm payment of $2400 to each of his victims.
“I sincerely hope for you and for any women you have contact with in the future, that you have now had it made very clear to you what behaviour is appropriate and what behaviour is inappropriate.”
On the rape charge, the man was sentenced to two years and 10 months in prison and ordered to make a $3000 reparation payment to the victim.
The convictions didn’t come easy, and Tash said the criminal cases against him suffered many delays.
The fallout
At the start, it was hard for Tash to believe the man she had spent four-and-a-half years with was capable of the offending.
“I didn’t know what was up, what was down. I didn’t know where to turn, I didn’t know who to trust. The person that I trusted most in my life just left this gaping hole.”
She grieved for the future she had lost, the person she had loved and the money she had spent restoring his property. Even the plants she had put in the garden.
“I was gullible, and I trusted him.”
She alleged there were always little lies. Small indiscretions that in isolation didn’t seem suspicious.
“He would say, ‘Oh I went to such and such for coffee’ or whatever, and I would see that person a few days later and say, ‘I hear you caught up with him a few days ago’, ‘Oh no I didn’t see him’.”
Before they learned the severity of his offending, Tash’s parents had urged her to stay with him, she said, worrying she would lose everything that she worked so hard to achieve. Tash had other concerns.
“He threatened me with guns once when my father and his friends came to help me pack up, he said, ‘You better be careful, better be careful, I’ve got guns’.”
Tash said she doesn’t want this to be a sob story, she doesn’t want sympathy. She wants justice.
“I feel I’ve lost 10 years of the prime of my life. I met him at 35, I’d come home from overseas ready to settle down and have children and I feel that the four-and-a-half years I was with him and the subsequent seven-and-a-half years battling in court ... I feel he took the guts of my life and I’m really lucky I was able to come out the other side.”
It still irks her that he wasn’t forced to sell part of his estate, which she said is 22 acres, to refund the taxpayers who footed his lawyer’s fees.
Legal aid is tax-payer-funded help for people who cannot afford a lawyer. The current income eligibility limit for a single applicant with no dependent children is $27,913.
From 2019 to October last year, a total of $972,750,500 has been paid to lawyers representing people facing criminal charges or involved in Family or Civil Court matters.
Of that, just $55,570,099 has been repaid.
Information released to the Herald under the Official Information Act shows $65,000 was spent across four lawyers on Tash’s former partner’s legal aid bill. One of the lawyers confirmed to the Herald he had been dismissed after a relationship breakdown with his client.
In comparison, she said she was not eligible for legal aid and had to support herself through seasonal work.
A memorandum from Tash’s lawyer referred to a judgment which states she is entitled to $84,900 from the man. However, it said in the event he did not have the funds, the court will consider the order for compensation cannot be satisfied.
Tash said this was just part of the total disputed amount and believed he should have been made to subdivide the land to pay for his lawyers and to compensate her for the investment she says she put into the property.
Over a year on from the submission of his final legal aid invoice, Tash remains seething. Having spent her career as a “pack leader”, the position is now untenable, and she focuses on keeping pace.
“It basically destroyed me.”
* Tash is not the woman’s real name. The Herald agreed not to name her former partner to protect her privacy.
Katie Harris is an Auckland-based journalist who covers social issues including sexual assault, workplace misconduct, crime and justice. She joined the Herald in 2020.
