Every week I write and article for the Euro Weekly News, an English-speaking newspaper covering all the major resorts of Spain and the Balearics. You can pick up a copy on a Thursday ... or read it here every week. |
Thursday 13 September 2007
Do you ever get the feeling that the polititions of the UK are wading through a morass of confusion with nothing more than a fading pencil torch? The mind continues to truly boggle and despair. Anyway, on to other 'cosas'. This Dors / Lake autobiographical extract, has now been dragging on for some weeks (you noticed?) On this occasion, I shall endeavor to finally polish it off once and for all, (I can hear the sighs of relief from here!). What I would be interested in, are your views on its ultimate outcome and consequences. For no better reason than my own personal inquisitive nature I suppose. Perhaps, as one anonymous correspondent wrote at the time, I should have been made to 'rot behind bars' (charming). Maybe I'm simply looking for some kind of exoneration. Whatever the reason, thanks for all your e mails to date. As you know, I do try to answer them all but do often find it difficult (time wise that is). Anyhow (hopefully) on now to the saga's final conclusion. Last weeks piece found me staggering back to the pub car park and handing back to a whinging Alan Lake, the knife he had passed to me during the melee...... One thing was certain - I was covered in blood. Although I had a bad cut to the back of my head, by its sheer quantity, the blood was clearly not all mine. Presumably Lake or I had caught someone with it. (As it turned out the barman had been cut on the arm) At this point, still jet lagged and now in shock, I personally couldn't have given a damn either way. It was in this state we that we finally arrived back at the house and rejoined the ladies in the sitting room. They stared at us aghast. We had only been gone some forty five minutes, supposedly for a quiet drink, and now here we were back in the house and I for one in a dreadful state and virtually covered from head to foot in blood and muck. After their initial shock the two girls quickly fetched wet cloths and towels and commenced to clean me up. While all this was going on we endeavored to explain what had taken place. As we completed the story Dors suddenly became very business like (and an accessory after the fact I may add). 'Give me the knife' she ordered Lake. He sheepishly handed it over. 'I'll look after this' she added. I never saw it again, its evidential absence proving to be an ultimate disaster at a later date. At this point there was a loud hammering at the front door. Mary went to open it. It was the police. Two uniformed officers entered the room. With bloodied towels and clothes everywhere, plus yours truly sporting a large gash to the back of my head, it was pretty obvious we were the two men they were seeking with regard to 'a fracas in the Red Lion'. And that is really just about it. After receiving six stitches at the local hospital (Lake needing no treatment whatsoever!) we were arrested, taken to the police station and later released on our own recognizance of just fifty pounds. Some months later, after being informed by Dors solicitor that the prosecution were prepared to drop the charges of G.B.H. /A.B.H. and Causing an Affray, if we agreed to plead guilty to one charge of unlawful wounding (the outcome of which, he assured us, almost certainly guaranteed a short trial and our walking free with a fine/probation or a suspended sentence) instead of self defense, and against my better judgment, I pleaded guilty to the 'lesser' charge. Subsequently (and in no small way a consequence of the missing knife) I received three years on the first count plus a further concurrent six months for malicious damage to the Martini umbrella they had been attacking me with! British justice? Mmmmm..... Keep the Faith´ Love Leapy |
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