Battered over a loo-seat!
Dawn was attacked over a practical joke
Thursday 1st May 2008
My eyes shot to the funny shape bulging out from under my husband John Ennis's jumper.
'What on earth have you got stuffed up there?' I frowned, giving it a prod. Slightly tipsy, John, 24, grinned.
'I thought I'd play a joke on Ian,' he smirked, pulling a navy blue toilet seat out from under his V-neck sweater. I rolled my eyes. I was round at his sister Paula's house, and John had obviously had a few at his stepdad Ian Bennett's house next door.
But to be honest, I was just relieved John and Ian, 53, were finally back on good terms. It was 16 March 2007, and two years earlier, Ian and John's mum, Audrey, 51, had broken up after 12 years together. John was really close to his mum, so after they split, he visited her every day. It meant we were always bumping into Ian, who still lived nearby. Not that there was much chance of avoiding him, when he'd moved next door to Paula, 28. But, after almost two years of frosty 'hellos', John had decided the time had come to be a bit more friendly.
'It'll make life easier,' he'd said.
Soon, the odd 'hello' in the street had turned into a drink at the local pub, Barra Jacks. I was really proud of the effort John was making. But now, as I stared at the loo seat he was clutching, I wondered what on earth was going on.
'Where did you get that from?' I asked.
'I unscrewed it from Ian's upstairs loo,' he laughed.
John was always playing practical jokes, but I could tell Paula didn't think this one was a good idea.
'We'd better take it back,' she said, grabbing the loo seat and going out the front door.
A few minutes later, she was back.
'Ian was on his way out,' she said. 'But I gave him his toilet seat back.'
'You are daft,' I sighed, shaking my head at John, who was trying not to laugh.
For the next few hours, we sat around, talking and listening to music, but then I noticed John was missing. By now, it was about 11.30pm and dark outside. Where on earth was he? I wandered out the front door and into the garden. Had he gone outside for a breath of fresh air? Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks.
'John!' I screamed. He was lying, lifeless, in Ian's front garden. And standing there, towering over him, was Ian. All 6ft of him. Worse, he was holding a baseball bat in his right hand.
Blood was pouring from a wound in the middle of John's forehead. Then, Ian swung the bat again.
'No!' I screamed, racing over to them. 'Stop!'
As I bent down next to John, to my relief, I saw his eyes were open and he was awake.
'It's OK…' I started to say, but then I sensed Ian looming over me.
I stared up just in time to see him swing the baseball bat down. There was an almighty cracking sound, as it crashed into my skull. Pain shot through me, then everything went black. When I opened my eyes, I could hear Paula screaming. I felt something hot running down my face and tasted blood in my mouth.
'John and Dawn have been hit!' Paula shrieked.
John was cradling me in his arms, and I could feel my eyelids getting heavy.
'Don't go, sweetheart,' he cried, stroking my hair.
Paula dialled 999 and an ambulance rushed us all to West Cumberland Hospital, Whitehaven. At A&E, John had the wound in his head stitched, while I was examined. Doctors cleaned the gaping four-inch wound on my head, and used six stitches to fix the skin together, before transferring me to Newcastle General Hospital.
Scans there revealed the bat had shaken my brain, causing a life-threatening blood clot. I needed brain surgery. I dread to think what Paula
and John went through, as they watched me have my hair shaved off, then waited for the three-hour operation to be over. I was then hooked up to a life-support machine and taken to intensive care. Doctors gave me just a 50 per cent chance of survival.
Worried out of his mind, John stayed by my side, hoping and praying I'd pull through. Finally, six days on, I woke up.
'I really need a cigarette,' I croaked.
'Thank God you're back,' John cried.
That day, I was taken off life support, and after eight more days, I was allowed home.
But the attack had left me with paralysis down my right side, so I couldn't hold things in my right hand and my leg dragged. I was also partially sighted in my left eye. Thankfully, CCTV cameras had tracked Ian fleeing the scene with the baseball bat. He was charged with two counts of unlawful wounding, with intent to cause grievous bodily harm.
In March 2008, John and I went to Carlisle Crown Court to see Ian face justice. When I saw his evil eyes, I felt the whole attack flooding back. And as he pleaded not guilty, I felt sick. Four days on, to my horror, Ian was found not guilty on both counts. He was found not guilty of wounding John, as he pleaded self-defence.
It turned out John had gone back round to his house, and when he couldn't get an answer, he'd kicked the front door. That's when Ian came out with the baseball bat. He said John was being a nuisance by knocking on the door and stealing his toilet seat. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He'd almost killed me because of a toilet seat?
But Ian was found guilty of unlawful wounding for his attack on me, and sentenced to two years in prison. Two months on, my vision is getting better all the time, and my right side is stronger. I'm having regular physio, and my hair's grown back. Better still, I'm three months pregnant. I'm going to do my best to put what happened behind me and build us a happy future as a family. But I don't think I'll ever look at a loo seat in the same way again.
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