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Australia mushroom murder survivor Ian Wilkinson's plea to grieve away from the spotlight as Erin Patterson jailed

At 10:18 on loteria banco do brasilMonday, Erin Patterson was led from courtroom four inside Melbourne's Supreme Court building to begin a life sentence in prison.

Her slow shuffle took her directly past two rows of wooden benches squeezed full of journalists, each scrutinising Patterson's exit for any final detail.

Upstairs in the public gallery, observers craned their necks to get a last glimpse – possibly for decades, perhaps ever – of the seemingly ordinary woman who is one of Australia's most extraordinary killers.

Also watching her was Ian Wilkinson, the only survivor of Patterson's famous mushroom meal in 2023, a cruel murder plot the judge decried as an "enormous betrayal".

Mr Wilkinson had for months walked in and out of court without uttering a public word. He always wore a black sleeveless jacket to keep warm in the winter chill, having never fully recovered from the death cap mushrooms that took his wife and two best friends.

But on Monday he paused on the courthouse steps to speak to media for the first time. He calmly thanked police who "brought to light the truth of what happened to three good people" and the lawyers who tried the case for their "hard work and perseverance".

There was praise too for the medics who saved his life and tried desperately to halt the other lunch guests' brutal decline.

For the 71-year-old, it is now back to the house he had shared with Heather, his wife of 44 years, who raised their four children before becoming a teacher and mentor.

"The silence in our home is a daily reminder," he told the court a fortnight ago, as he gave an emotional victim impact statement.

"[There's] nobody to share in life's daily tasks, which has taken much of the joy out of pottering around the house and the garden. Nobody to debrief with at the end of the day."

"I only feel half alive without her," he added.

To most, Heather Wilkinson will be remembered as one of Patterson's victims - an unfortunate lunch guest in a murder with no clear motive.

But to her husband, the pastor at a Baptist church, Mrs Wilkinson was his "beautiful wife" - not perfect, he said, but full of "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control" and also "sage advice".

"It's one of the distressing shortcomings of our society that so much attention is showered on those who do evil, and so little on those who do good," he said in his victim impact statement - a barely hidden flash of frustration at how much focus had been on his wife's killer.

Never in recent memory has an Australian criminal case been so high-profile: a small-town murder mystery with a weapon so outlandish it wouldn't seem out of place in an Agatha Christie novel - not so much a whodunnit as a whydunnit.

Spectators queued daily to nab a spot in the courtroom, thousands of people picked apart details of the case online, and journalists descended from around the world to cover the lengthy trial.

At least five podcasts followed the minutiae of the case in the regional Victorian town of Morwell. A documentary crew from a streaming service followed every step.

An Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) drama series is in works. And there will be several books too, one of them co-authored by Helen Garner, a doyenne of modern Australian literature.

Many were in court earlier this month as, one after the other, a series of victim impact statements laid bare the effects of the horrendous crime and the unprecedented attention it attracted.

Simon Patterson – the killer's estranged husband – wrote of his inability to articulate how much he missed his mum and dad.

Ruth Dubois – the daughter of Ian and Heather Wilkinson – told the court Patterson had used her parents' natural kindness against them.

Don Patterson's 100-year-old mother shared her grief at having outlived him.

A common thread throughout, though, was how the media and the public had only compounded their grief and distress.

"The intense media coverage has left me second-guessing every word I say, worried about who I can trust with my thoughts and feelings," Ms Dubois told the court. "It has changed the way I interact with people."

"It is particularly revolting to experience our family's tragedy being turned into entertainment for the masses and to know that people are using our family's trauma for their own personal gain."

Mr Patterson lost his parents Don and Gail because of the meal cooked by his wife, a lunch that he too would have eaten, had he not declined the invitation at the last minute.

It was ultimately left out of the trial, but he believes Erin Patterson had been trying to kill him with tainted food for years, and had almost succeeded on several occasions.

He was about as entwined in the case as it could get. But through the legal process he spent as little time at court as possible, ensconced instead in the safety and privacy of his home.

He wasn't there for the unanimous guilty verdict, nor Monday's sentencing. And his victim impact statement a fortnight ago - all 1,034 words of it - was read by a relative.

The statement had clues as to why. He described the strain of being on constant alert for people showing "a threatening interest" in his family.

"My kids and I have suffered many days filled with strangers menacing our home… We have faced people waiting in ambush at our front door, inches away with TV camera and microphone at the ready after ringing our doorbell.

"Strangers holding notebooks have banged aggressively on our windows in the early morning trying to peek into my children's bedrooms, always skulking away before the police arrive.

"When we are at a cafe, if I suddenly say it's time to go now, the kids know we immediately leave quietly, because I've spotted someone serendipitously recording us."

It's hard enough for them to deal with the "grim reality" that they live in "an irreparably broken home... when almost everyone else knows their mother murdered their grandparents", he said.

In the small town of Korumburra though, where the Wilkinson and Patterson families are firmly rooted, the community has closed ranks around them, and remained tight-lipped during the media onslaught.

This "ongoing love" gives Mr Patterson hope that his children will thrive - "especially if the wider public persists in letting them be".

Justice Christopher Beale on Monday said Patterson had traumatised four generations of the Patterson and Wilkinson families and wrought indescribable sorrow on the communities that clearly adored them.

"Erin was embraced as part of the Patterson family. She was welcome and treated with genuine love and respect in a way she did not appear to experience from her own family," Beale said, reading a tranche of a statement tendered to the court.

"Her actions represent a profound and devastating betrayal of the trust and love extended to her."

Addressing the 50-year-old himself, Justice Beale said: "Not only did you cut short three lives and cause lasting damage to Ian Wilkinson's health… you inflicted untold suffering on your own children, whom you robbed of their beloved grandparents."

It would be impossible to shield them from "incessant discussion of the case in the media, online, in public spaces - even in the schoolyard", he added.

Aggravating her offending even further was the fact her crimes were extensively planned – and she was so committed to their execution that, even as authorities grilled her for information that could help save the lunch guests' lives, she refused to help them.

"You showed no pity for your victims… [and] you engaged in an elaborate cover up of your guilt."

Her continued insistence of her innocence is a further affront.

"Your failure to exhibit any remorse pours salt into all the victims' wounds," he said.

Justice Beale said he had no hesitation in categorising Patterson's actions as the worst kind of offending, but stopped just shy of imposing the harshest possible sentence, owing to the extreme isolation she faces as such a notorious prisoner.

For three counts of murder and one of attempted murder, she was given a life sentence, but will be eligible for release in 2056, when she is 82 years old.

But while Justice Beale was eviscerating of Patterson on Monday, Mr Wilkinson was his characteristically gracious self.

Outside court, he didn't spare a single word for his wife's killer.

Instead, his final words to the public were a call to action.

"Our lives and the life of our community depends on the kindness of others," he said.

"I would like to encourage everybody to be kind to each other."

He ended with another appeal for people to respect his family's privacy as they "continue to grieve and heal", and with some perhaps undeserved well wishes for the assembled media pack. "Thank you for listening. I hope you all have a great day."

It was a typically dignified, quiet exit at what the family hopes will be the end of confronting criminal proceedings – and an opportunity for some peace.

Erin Patterson now has until midnight on 6 October to appeal against her conviction or sentence.

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