'It gave me this weird creepy feeling': The exact moment Shanelle Dawson realised her dad had killed her mum.

Shanelle Dawson's final conversation with her father Chris Dawson is forever seared into her memory. It was 2018 at a family picnic. At the time The Teacher's Pet podcast, which looks into the case of her mother Lynette Simms' mysterious disappearance was charting globally. 

"He stood in front of me... and I told him I remembered seeing his hands around her neck," Shanelle tells Mamamia's No Filter. "And I said: 'Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone'. This was one of the last conversations I had with him." 

"He then said: 'I swear to you, I never ever hurt your mum.' But when someone lies to me, or when someone's being insincere, I can feel it in my gut. I still kind of held this little bit of hope that maybe it wasn't true."

In 1982, when Shanelle was just four, her mother Lynette Simms vanished from their family's home in Bayview, in Sydney's Northern Beaches. However, it wasn't until decades later that what happened to Lynette was finally certified by a court of law - she had been murdered by her husband Chris Dawson.

Watch: Shanelle Dawson sharing her story. Post continues below.

Soon after her mother's "disappearance" in the early eighties, Lynette's side of the bed was filled by Shanelle's teenage babysitter, J, a former student of her father's.

"I remember Dad and J saying they had to wait until she [J] turned 18 to get married. I must have been told that she [Lynette] went off. If anybody did mention her, there would be an uncomfortable silence, like it was forbidden. He never spoke to us about her, never told us things about her," says Shanelle. 

Shanelle and her sister didn't talk about their mother between themselves either. It felt "taboo". Even with their maternal grandmother Helena Simms, Shanelle says they rarely talked about Lynette. Helena herself still deeply struggling with the loss and uncertainty of what happened to her daughter. 

Growing up, Shanelle says she was made to feel like J was her real mother, rather than Lynette, saying her father was "manipulative" in that approach.

"We did call her [J] mum. [However] I remember at some point we were then told not to call her mum anymore, but to go back to calling her by her full name." Soon afterwards J and Chris Dawson split. 

As the years went on, Shanelle still assumed her mum was out in the world somewhere. She truly believed she would see her again, especially given the story she had been told by her dad, that Lynette had "needed to get away".

"I told myself that she either had a mental breakdown or somehow lost memory. I couldn't equate this beautiful loving mother figure with someone who had abandoned her children. That certainly wasn't the case though of what happened."

It wasn't until Shanelle was in her 30s that she started to fear the story her dad had concocted wasn't the truth at all.

"In 2009 I went to a psychic reading," she explains. "One had said: 'I see someone in your family going to jail for a very long time'. I had no idea who it could be. Another time I showed a photo of my mum to a friend who has psychic abilities, and she immediately felt like she was being strangled.

"I told her she must be wrong, no, no no, she's alive. But I could feel the truth of it in my bones, in my body."

For Shanelle the seed of doubt had been planted. It couldn't be undone.

"It was quite profound. The abandonment issues I felt around a mum who supposedly abandoned us were dissolved. But then this massive, gaping wound opened in its replacement."

Shanelle with her father and mother in 1979. Image: Supplied.

Shanelle now firmly believes her dad killed her mum.

This gut feeling was subsequently validated when Chris Dawson in 2022 was found guilty of murdering his wife Lynette and sentenced to 24 years in prison. This year, he was also found guilty of carnal knowledge after a judge ruled he had an unlawful 'sexual relationship' with a student in 1980.

Lynette's body has never been found. 

"Previously I still hoped that the actual murder was an accident. I understand that it is believed that it was premeditate, and that's next level heartbreaking," she says.

Choosing to read out her victim impact statement in court, staring directly at her father was "the hardest option" but one Shanelle felt determined to do.

"I knew it would have been easy to have someone else do it. But I also felt like it was the greatest opportunity to call back my power that I felt had been taken from all those years. It was probably the last chance I'd have to sit in front of my father and actually have a conversation with him."

Shanelle currently has no contact with her sister, following Shanelle's 60 Minutes interview about their mother's death a few years ago. Shanelle says they feel differently about their father's guilt.

Right now, Shanelle is not sure if she will go visit her father in prison.

It was her daughter who recently asked her: "Can I go visit my grandfather in jail?" Shanelle hadn't even considered it before that point. "I said to her not while you're young. It's not a nice place for a little girl. If you really feel that you want to and need to then I'll go with you when you're a bit older."

Now grieving the loss of both parents, Shanelle says it's a grief hard to put into words.

"It was a massive grief for him and the person I thought he was. In hindsight, I started to see some of the cracks that had presented throughout the years. I remember being in the car with him, I was 14 and I asked a question about my mum. And he said: 'It's a shame your mother let herself go. She had such a pretty face'.

"I didn't have any idea of my father's involvement. But it gave me this weird, creepy feeling. The budding feminist in me, and it was like, oh, there's something really wrong there."

Lynette with one of her girls. Image: Supplied.

Sadly, Shanelle has no memories of her mother.

She relies on her loved one's recounting stories, and photographs to spur an idea of who her mother was. Speaking with psychics she trusts also helps. But Shanelle still feels her mother's "essence" around her in times of need. 

One such time was when Shanelle gave birth to her own little girl. "It definitely brought it home to me - the absence of the mother was not just my own anymore, it then extended to my daughter who now doesn't have her beautiful grandmother," says Shanelle.

"I certainly grieve for her for that. I often say to her 'Nana Lyn would have loved you and been so proud of you'. Having never spoken about our mum growing up, I know how important it is to kind of fill in those gaps as much as you can."

Having written a newly released book about the whole situation, My Mother's Eyes, Shanelle says it certainly wasn't a cathartic experience to write about all she's been through.

If anything, she feels it was quite re-traumatising. But she also felt like "it was something I needed to do".

"I felt really compelled and the words would flow. I called on her [Lynette] and asked her to be with me. It's a lot about the absence of her in my life, as I don't remember her enough to really write from her perspective," she notes.

Ultimately, Shanelle finds some small solace in the fact that society's awareness of domestic violence and coercive control is far better than it was decades ago. 

"I have hopes that things are changing, even though at the moment it's at an all-time high. But I also see a big change in the mindsets of the generations," she says. 

"There will always be some grief that I don't have a mum and my daughter doesn't have a grandmother, and that she was taken from us so tragically. When I used to look at photos of mum, I would always just break down and bawl my eyes out. Now recently after seeing her photo, I actually smiled. I hope we can evolve into sort of celebrating her life, rather than just grieving it."

Shanelle has requested that if you have the means to donate to Women's Community Shelters after reading this article, it would be greatly appreciated.

You can purchase a copy of Shanelle's book My Mother's Eyes here.

If this has raised any issues for you, or if you just feel like you need to speak to someone, please call 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) – the national sexual assault, domestic and family violence counselling service. 

Feature Image: Supplied.