A view from…the Magistrates’ Court dock
"My purgatory was to last for nine months. A week after I was interviewed by the police, I received a phone call from the WPC who had interviewed me. She requested that I sign a form authorising the police to make further enquiries. If this turned out as I had relayed the story in my statement, then there would be what is known as, an NFA (No further action) I arranged to go into the police station the following week to sign the form.
Here’s the thing. As any conscious offender will tell you, I use the word ‘conscious’ for a reason. This is because I was now beginning to wrestle with my conscience. One of the allegations was false, of this there was no doubt. (It’s a long shot asking people to believe me, I mean come on – I’m a criminal right?) The other allegation was true. I made sure the sand was keeping my ears warm for sure. I was planning my wedding and nothing was going to stop that, least of all a criminal charge. Here’s a picture of my rings. Beautiful eh?
After signing the form at the police station, life moved on and as I watched my phone each and every day and shook every time it rang, I began to relax as the weeks went by and I heard nothing from the police.
On the 27th August, I was hanging out the laundry as the postman walked into the garden and handed me that day’s mail. I saw this envelope and it was then, call it a sixth sense, I knew what was inside the envelope. The Crown Prosecution Service was charging me. I was summonsed to appear before the local Magistrate Court to answer the charges put before me. I had never been formally arrested. There’s no need for that in today’s modern-day provision of ‘services’"