Table Of ContentTermsand conditions apply
Issue 38, September 22 2022
BESTIE’S BETRAYAL
SHE CONNED
ER Cstiee WEDDING SHOCK
--- MY BROTHER WAS
= MURDERED
AUST $3.95
Welcome to 1aKeS
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Find Polly Puzzler hidden
among the pages of Take 5. ‘
Write the page number on
the coupon on page 49! i,
| a
S\ Af,
the financial worry out of
this time of year, we spoke to
a financial expert to get her
top budgeting tips ahead of
the festive season (p28). One
that I love, my family and |
have been doing for years.
Instead of buying a whole
heap of presents, we doa
Secret Santa and each pull
a name out of a hat and buy
for that person only. It’s
about the presence, not the
presents, after all. It’s also
week two of our incredible
new competition, Win your
rent or mortgage paid for
a year! Make sure you save
your bricks, and you'll find
extra coupon cards to stick
them to in future issues. As
always, there’s also the best
real life stories, yummy
recipes, Aussie travel and
puzzles and prizes. Have
a great week!
achel
| feel like I’ve blinked and
spring is here. And with it,
talk of Christmas and those
giant boxes of chocolates in
the supermarkets! While it’s
usually something to look
forward to, with the cost
of living increasing, the
impending celebrations might
be causing some stress. To
help try and take a little of
| don’t know about you, but
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BESTIE’S BETRAYAL
SHE CONNED
_ ME OUT
=] OF pause
GAVE MY4: i)
LASSMATE,
fo Wi
7A BUB! mmm i
My mes w
HER WAS
MURDERED
BY HIS
BRIDE {g
Solved by her SLIPPER
3 EXPERT ADVICE
ag
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF COUNTRY Take 5 wishes to acknowledge the Traditional
Owners of the many nations across Australia, and pay our respect to Elders past
and present. We recognise that their sovereignty has never been ceded.
: | —_—— —_—
, Vd do everything
- I could to help them
METIS
he message took me
by complete surprise.
When I opened
Instagram, I saw
that Jess, an old friend I'd
first met at uni, had
reached out to me.
We hadn’t seen or spoken
to each other for years, but
as I read on, I learned that
she needed help.
Iwas wondering if I
could ask you a favour?
she began.
Turned out that Jess and
her partner, Tristan, had
been trying to conceive for
over two years with no luck.
Not even five rounds of
IVF had delivered the good
news they both longed for.
An egg donor was their
best shot, and Jess hoped
that I’d share her story to
my Instagram page as I had
thousands of followers who
might be able to help.
Of course, I replied
In hospital to
donate my eggs
AS TOLD TO MITCHELL JORDAN
instantly, thinking back to
the sweet woman who I'd
spent years studying with.
There was no doubt in
my mind she’d make an
excellent mother.
But the more I thought
about it, I couldn’t shake
the idea that I should just
volunteer to donate my
own eggs to the couple.
I was a single mother to
a two-year-old girl, Rosie,
who had brought so much
happiness to my life.
They deserved to
experience that joy, too.
Given I'd already
had a healthy child,
the chances of me
being able to
provide eggs were
stacked in my
favour.
When I sent them
an Instagram message with
my suggestion, we agreed
to catch up and discuss the
idea.
“Five years have passed
and you haven’t changed
a bit!” I said to Jess,
wrapping her in a hug.
Tristan was a real legend
~ he had a great sense
of humour and was so
passionate about his work
I'mjustso
glad I could. \
help my=-+
friend
They
deserved
that joy,
too
“y
Ai! de
with disabled children.
“You're going to
make the best parents,”
I told them.
That afternoon, the
three of us got along
so well it seemed like
a done deal.
But legally there
were a few more
hoops to jump
through.
First, we had to visit
a fertility clinic to
check that I was
a suitable donor,
followed by
counselling
and then a
three-month
cooling off
period
before going
ahead.
But we all knew
in our hearts that there was
no going back - in fact, we
couldn’t wait to begin!
Rosie was too young
to really understand
what was going on.
“Tl let her know once
you have a big belly!”
I said to Jess.
Together, we agreed that
once there was a baby,
Rosie and I would remain
involved in its life forever
as research suggests this
is morally the best thing
to do for the child’s
wellbeing.
Unfortunately, they only
managed to extract five
eggs from me, which was
disappointing as I knew
the chances of creating
embryos weren’t high.
But amazingly, out of
those five, four became
embryos.
One month passed before
Jess called one day when
I was in the supermarket.
- Re Be SP —
uh
JESS
SAYS:
Lauren’s the kindest
person I’ve ever met
and Tristan and | are
so grateful to her.
She'll always have a
place in our lives.
“I’m pregnant!”
she cried down the
phone to mein
September 2021.
I couldn’t have been
happier for her and
Tristan, though once she
was expecting I also took
a slight step back and let
them go to the
appointments without me
as they were to be
the parents, not me.
Being the lovely person
she is, Jess still sent me
photos from the scans and
kept me updated - just like
a true friend would.
Looking back, it’s funny
to see how much this
pregnancy has brought
me and Jess together after
all these years.
Ha Tristan and Te
-with Cohen, and
me with Rosie
I can see her becoming
one of my closest friends.
And when she gave birth
to baby Cohen in June this
year, I was thrilled for her
and Tristan.
Whatever happens, their
bub is always going to be
part of my world, and I’m
delighted to know that I’ve
played some part in making
Jess and Tristan’s dream
come true.
Marlics gruesome fate
THE TRUTH
All my brother wanted
was a happy ever after
“It’s nothing serious,’
he told me, shyly.
But after that
.. and
herson
Leon Port
message from a cousin.
the police are at Mark’s
ears streamed
down my brother
Mark’s cheeks.
“Until death
do us part,” he said,
gazing lovingly into
his new wife’s eyes.
I started choking up, too.
“Finally Mark gets his
happy ever after,’ I said
to my mum, Ida.
It was March 3, 2011,
and my older brother
Mark had just married
his girlfriend, Maria.
Mark had had his ups
and downs. When he was
13, he found out that his
real dad had died by
suicide when he was
just two months old.
Mum had tried to hide
it from Mark because she
didn’t want it to affect him.
Mark at
19 when
he joined
the army
“He deserves it,’ she said.
And it didn’t seem to, but
when he finished school,
he joined the army for
two years and came back
a different person. He was
still the big softy we loved,
but he seemed haunted
and drank too much.
He drifted in and out of
relationships and had four
children - Katie in 1991,
Jamie three years on, and
Ffion four years after that.
He also had another
daughter he didn’t see.
“I need to stop drinking,”
he told me often.
He’d stop for months but
then I'd see him drunk at
Mum’s house or in the pub.
I'd offer him a bed when
his relationships broke
down, or just listen to
him. I knew the change
had to come from him.
Then one day, Mum said
Mark had a new girlfriend.
Maria was divorced with
two teenage sons.
When I next saw Mark,
I asked him about it.
“Tell me about Maria,”
I said, smiling.
Instead of the big grin
I'd expected, the blood
drained from his face.
whenever I saw Mark he
had Maria on his arm.
“She clearly loves him,”
I said to Mum.
After a few years, Mark
announced they were
getting married. And now
here she was, wearing my
old wedding dress for her
‘something borrowed,
every bit a blushing bride.
A few months after the
wedding, Mark came to see
me. “How long do you have
to be married before you
can get divorced?” he said.
“A year,’ I replied,
house. People are saying
Maria has killed him, it read.
With my heart in my
throat, I raced to Mark’s
house but a policeman
barred my way.
Hours passed before
officers came to Mum’s to
confirm the devastating
news: Mark was dead. He
was just 45 years old.
A terrible scream roared
from Mum.
Police told us that Maria,
her son and his girlfriend
had been arrested.
We had to wait until the
trial to find out what had
shocked. “Why, happened to Mark.
what’s wrong?” His face In court, we
He just shrugged discovered that
and looked away. was Maria’s eldest son,
Then, Maria Wy LGC) (tf Leon, had been
started coming to
Mum’s for family
dinners alone.
“Mark’s drinking
again,’ she said.
One day, I spotted Mark
in town - his face was
battered and bruised.
“T don’t know what
happened,” he said,
looking embarrassed.
Another time, I saw
him with a black eye. I’d
never known Mark to be
aggressive so I presumed
he must’ve fallen over
while drunk.
On October 2, 2015, I was
at a wedding when my
phone beeped with a
and
bruised
drinking with Mark
at his home when
they began arguing.
Leon had hit
Mark in the living room.
When Maria got home from
work, rather than help her
husband, she’d joined
in the attack.
Mark was smacked,
punched and hit for hours.
Bits of broken china from
a vase were found lodged in
Mark’s fractured skull.
A bloodied TV remote
was found smashed to
pieces, and his blood was
spattered across the ceiling,
furniture and walls. .
Leon claimed that his .
AS TOLD TO JANE COHEN PICTURES: WALES NEWS SERVICE
mother had caused the
final, fatal injury.
She claimed she’d only
tried to help her husband
and blamed her son.
But her slippers,
drenched in Mark’s blood,
told a different story.
After the attack, the
twisted mother and son
left my brother to die for
up to 20 agonising hours.
Next day, they cleaned
up the scene, then called
emergency services and
said he’d come home drunk
and injured. A sick lie.
Evidence at trial suggested
Maria sometimes hit Mark
when he was drunk.
I thought about those
bruises on him and sobbed
for my beloved brother.
Both Maria and Leon
were found guilty of murder
and perverting the course
of justice for trying to clean
up the scene.
Rebecca Donovan, 24,
Leon’s girlfriend, was also
found guilty of perverting
the course of justice for not
helping Mark. She received
a suspended sentence of
16 months.
The family at
Mark and Maria's ©
wedding
Maria Louise Hopes, 46,
was given a life sentence
with a minimum of 17
years in prison. Her
son, Leon Port, 24,
was also given life
with a minimum
of 18 years.
The judge
told them
itwasa
“sustained,
nasty and
brutal beating”
which amounted
to a “miserable
crime”
“Tt has caused
profound loss to
others,’ he said.
It’s unbearable
to think how
my brother
suffered in his
final hours.
All he ever
wanted was
a happy ever after.
I’m haunted by the
memory of him saying his
vows to his future killer on
his wedding day.
I will never forgive Maria
and her son Leon for what
they did to him.
Istill can’t bear to
think of how he
suffered
Quick
Cadance Bell, 38,
Bathurst, NSW.
he sound of
footsteps creaking
down the hallway
filled me with panic.
Quick, I thought, pulling
off my mum Sandra’s bra
and placing it back in
the hamper.
I was 12 years old, but
had never fitted in with
other boys in my small
town of Mudgee, NSW.
Born with the name
Me (left) with
Amanda
“It was time to tell my story
a
Benjamin Lynch, I was
never interested in ‘boy’
things. Instead, I preferred
playing with My Little
Ponies and donning
pretty dresses.
Once, a teacher caught
me swapping clothes with
a girl at school.
“You're a little boy. Boys
don’t wear dresses, they
wear boys’ clothes,” she
snapped at me.
Years went by and I
couldn’t shake the feeling
that I was in the wrong
body. It was more than
just clothes and toys.
As I grew older, it felt
as if my body was
|| betraying my mind.
| In2017, at 33 years
| old, I knew that I was
transgender.
In time, I started
| therapy which would
| change my hormone
| levels to my real gender
|
|
identity. After a few months
I noticed that my skin was
softening, my face was
changing shape and I felt
a tingle in my chest where
breasts were growing.
The most significant
changes, however, weren’t
physical. I felt happier.
Me now-
“Mum, I’ve got to talk
to you about something,”
I began.
“Okay, this sounds
serious,’ she said. “You
haven’t gotten someone
pregnant, have you?”
“Nah,” I laughed.
“Mum, I’m transgender.
I was finally becoming I’ve known my whole life,
who I was always but I couldn’t
meant to be. Ikn accept it. I’ve
I decided to wanted to be a girl
change my name had since I was a little
to Cadance. put pe boy and I’m taking
Aware that steps to do that,”
Icouldn’t hide my to pa I blurted.
physical changes She nodded.
for much longer, and since
I was living back at home,
I rehearsed in my mind
how I'd tell Mum and my
dad, Russell.
One day, I finally plucked
up the courage to say it out
loud to them.
Mum was sitting at the
table on the back verandah,
e-reader in one hand,
cigarette burning in
the other.
“So, you re going to
become a woman?”
“Yes.”
On my laptop, I showed
her websites and resources
about my transition and
I could tell she was
processing the information.
Telling Dad was a
different story. He nodded
a bit, squinted a bit, then
he asked me only two
questions.
Pad
ifr
=
=
uw
a
1u)
>
fm
2
=
a
=)
°
UV
fe)
-
a
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=
n
<=
“So you're sure about
this then?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“And you've told your
mother?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Righto. Fair enough.’
He picked up the remote
control and raised the
volume of the telly back up.
After that, things seemed
to fall into place.
I found the woman of my
dreams, Amanda, through
an online forum.
When we met in May
2018, I knew she was the
one. Within a month,
we'd moved in together
and I popped the question
soon after that.
As a professional
storyteller through film, TV
and articles, I knew that
I needed to put pen to
paper and share my story.
I wanted to write a
book for your everyday
Australian, where anyone
from the butcher, farmer,
nurse or teacher could
pick it up and enjoy reading
and learning more about
trans people.
It took two months to
complete the first draft
and another four months
of editing.
“It’s perfect,” I said
with a smile as I looked
at the book cover of my
memoir, The All of It, for
the first time.
At the book launch,
a man in his 50s told me
that my story made him
read more books. I was
bursting with pride. That
conversation alone has
made it all worthwhile.
I hope that my story can
help everyday Aussies
understand more about the
lives of transgender people.
a H An
Se yo
mean
Bell is out
now.
CADANCE
BELL
A bird-brained idea turned trash into treasure
louched in the
chair, | stared
bleary-eyed
at the rusty
cement mixer.
“It looks like an
emu,’ I chuckled.
It was 2005, and I'd
gone to my shed to
sober up after a few
too many beers.
As a boilermaker,
| had a lot of gear. |
also picked up metal
and materials from
clearance sales.
| couldn't shake the
idea of the emu so
| tinkered away at it.
The cement mixer
was the body and |
welded bits of metal
to it to create a head,
2 Right: Somes
of my work
SA
feet, eyes and wings.
I'd never been creative,
but when | was done! was
so taken with the result |
put it in the front yard so
passers-by could admire it.
“How much d’you want
for it?” a neighbour asked.
“Five hundred bucks,”
I replied, plucking the
figure out of thin air.
To my amazement, she
bought it. That was the
start of my side hustle!
I called it Heavy Metal Art.
Years passed, and | kept
scouring my town for bits
of neglected metal | could
turn into wildlife art.
At first | sold my pieces
at markets or on Facebook,
but I now have a website
and hold exhibitions.
My mate Tank helps me
and I’ve made everything
from tiny metal ants that
sell for $5 to huge eagles
I sell for $30,000!
I’m still a boilermaker
but my art takes up a lot of
my time as I’ve had orders
from all over the country.
A scrap-metal pelican
| made stands in pride of
place in the Melbourne
Aquarium.
My wife, Sally, may not
love the junk that clogs
up our yard, but she loves
my creations. “They're
incredible,’ she often says.
One day, I'd love to
install a metal art trail
around my town to bring
tourism to the area.
Until then, I’ll keep
creating art out of scraps
- it's rewarding and good
for the planet, too.
Visit heavy-metal-art.
Squarespace.com
‘AHLYVIIW HLAY OL GIOLSV
Casey Clarke, 27,
Gold Coast, Qld.
Dear Dad,
veryone adored your
independence and
freedom-loving spirit,
but you were never
ideal husband material.
Mum loved you but couldn’t
cope with you disappearing
on motorbiking adventures
for weeks at a time. When
I was 18 months old, she
divorced you.
An ex-military man, you
settled in 2001 in Madeira,
Portugal, as head of security
for a hotel company. From
when I was seven years
old, you’d fly me over to
see you on my own.
“You're here, Little
Warrior!” you’d exclaim,
using my pet name.
Our time together was
EL REPILADO
LIFES
ADVENTU
ORTUGAL
—
There was never a dull
moment with you as my dad
full of fun. One day you
took me parasailing. It was
terrifying flying through the
air behind a speedboat but
with you strapped in with
me, I felt safe.
You loved to scuba dive
and we’d go out on
a boat where you’d
disappear into the
sea. Too young to
Our time
together
seen. Then you
would get me
to practise
scuba diving
in the bath so
I could join you
one day.
When you had
to work, you
encouraged me to
explore on my own.
“I’m watching you
on all the security
cameras around
town,’ you'd
assure me.
join you, I'd stay So, off I’d trot,
on board, barely was full convinced you’d be
breathing until there instantly if
I finally saw you of fun I needed help.
emerge with a grin In the evenings,
on your face. you'd pour a whisky and
“That was fantastic, Little
Warrior,’ you'd say, telling
me all about the fish you’d
Me now with
my daughter,
play songs by your favourite
band, 3 Doors Down.
“A hundred days have
made me older, since the
last time that I saw your
pretty face...” you'd sing.
Then we'd talk into the
night. You’d tell me about
working as a mercenary
in Sierra Leone during
the civil war, and your
philosophy, which was
to live a life of adventure.
You'd show me
photos you’d
taken, many of
pretty women. You
were handsome
and charming, so
I wasn’t surprised
females flocked to
be with you.
You loved writing
too, and you’d often
scribble in your big
notebook at night.
It was hard saying
goodbye, but we’d talk
regularly on the phone
until I could join you again.
A lover of psychology,
you'd encourage me to
people-watch whenever
we went out to eat.
“Little Warrior, tell me
what you see from the body
language of those two,”
you'd say. And I'd decipher
from the way they played
with their food they were
bored with each other.
Sometimes you sent
me on ‘sting’ operations
if you suspected a hotel
staff member was taking
money from the till.
“Buy a burger to see if
they give you a receipt,’
youd tell me. It made me
feel excited and important!
Back home, I’d tell Mum
what I'd been doing. She’d
just laugh. She knew what
you were like and never
stopped me seeing you.
When I was 13, you took
me on a thrilling motorbike
trip all around Spain. The
thermometer sometimes
reached 50°C, but I loved
every second. Afterwards,
