Attacked in my bed by baby-faced beast
But old instincts kicked in and I couldn’t let this beast get away with it Sandy Abrams, 54, Cheshire
Settling in for the evening, I cuddled up with my cats Freddie, Ziggy, Alfie and Robbie. Bliss! I thought, sandwiched between their warmth.
I loved cosy nights watching TV in bed.
It was February 2019, and I’d spent a lovely day with a friend.
But I’d lived alone for years.
The comfort of my kitties on an evening was all I needed to feel safe.
I’d served as a police officer for Merseyside in my 20s, you see.
Then I’d moved to America in 1995 to marry my then boyfriend.
I eventually divorced and came back to the UK in 2013, getting a job as a supplier for Bentley.
But I was grateful for the skills five years on the beat had given me.
Now 53, I was a strong, confident woman, and knew how to look after myself.
Even after having a hip replaced in 2015, due to osteoporosis, I didn’t let it take my independence.
Doctors had given me a panic alarm in case I needed help, but I doubted I’d use it.
Kept it stowed in a living-room drawer.
‘Time to sleep,’ I yawned at about 11pm.
I’d already locked up before I came to bed, but couldn’t get the lock to latch.
It’d been playing up, but now it seemed completely broken.
Admitting defeat, I’d left it unlocked.
I’d lived in my quiet neighbourhood for years and never had any trouble, so felt sure it could wait until morning.
‘Night boys,’ I grinned, ruffling the cats’ fur before flicking off the light and drifting off to sleep.
But at 5.20am, I awoke with a start.
It was pitch black, but I couldn’t breath.
Suddenly I realised there was someone on top of me, their hand clamped over my mouth and nose.
‘Scream and I’ll kill you,’ hissed a voice.
Gripped with fear, my breath caught in my throat.
I desperately scrambled for my phone, but had no hope of reaching it in the bedside drawer.
I was trapped. ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ I begged.
Hands snaked all over my body, under my bra and bottoms.
I felt sick as I realised the man was wearing a huge open dressing gown, sweatpants and a bobble hat.
Horrified,
I willed him to stop as he dropped his clothes to the floor.
But it was no use. He raped me in my own bed.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered when his sickening attack was over, but it did nothing to deter him.
He wasn’t finished with me yet.
Distraught, I knew I couldn’t let this perverted predator get away with his crime.
Remembering my police training, I realised I needed to gather as much evidence as possible.
And after being raped a second, then a third time, I changed tack.
‘Can I have a cigarette?’ he asked sheepishly
Taking my chance,
I said yes.
It was the gesture
I needed to get him onside – but I also knew keeping the cigarette butt would provide vital DNA evidence to help identify my attacker.
Plus, there’d be fingerprints on my lighter.
My plan worked. And as he relaxed, taking in long puffs of smoke, I lured him into conversation.
Flicking on my bedside light, I admired a gun tattoo inked on his hand, and committed the design to memory.
Took in every facial feature, too.
He even told me when his birthday was.
He was a teenager.
I’d noticed he had little body hair but was shocked at how young he was.
Adrenaline was pumping, but by concentrating on my mission, I was able to regain a sense of control.
I’d get this monster. Thankfully, after what seemed like hours, my attacker fled through the unlocked back door and over the fence, the same way he’d let himself in.
My ordeal was over. Shaking, I dialled 999. ‘I’ve been raped,’ I sobbed. As I waited for police, I called my friend and asked her to write everything down.
‘While it’s fresh in my memory,’ I said.
I made sure not to wash the bedsheets, kept the discarded cigarette butt for forensic analysis.
And when it was time to make my statement, I recounted every harrowing detail, knowing it’d be crucial in identifying the sadistic night stalker.
An artistic impression was made of his tattoo, an electronic image of his face, both issued to the media.
Still, in the meantime, despite getting the locks fixed, I lived in fear, terrified he’d return.
I felt violated, vulnerable, hated that he’d stripped me of my independence.
Finally, after a monthlong investigation, my attacker was identified as 18-year-old Joshua Cooper.
I sobbed tears of relief as
I needed to gather as much evidence as possible
detectives told me he’d been recognised by the electronic image and the gun tattoo.
DNA then connected him to the crime, but the twisted teen refused to plead guilty.
His lawyers tried to argue we’d been in a consensual relationship. Consensual?!
I was an independent woman in my 50s, what would I be doing with a teenage boy?
It was sick.
After all I’d done to ensure he was caught,
I was terrified he’d get away with it.
Especially when, after a first trial in August 2019, a jury was unable to come to a verdict.
‘But I won’t let him win,’ I said, vowing to fight my baby-faced attacker in court a second time.
He was released on bail in the meantime, so I was living in terror again.
In March 2020, Cooper, then 19, appeared at Chester Crown Court for retrial.
The jury heard how he’d gained access to my house through the unlocked back door, woken me up and raped me in bed.
Thankfully, after a fiveday trial, they saw through his lies and, within 15 minutes, had unanimously found him guilty on all three counts of rape.
In May 2020, I wept with relief as Joshua Cooper was jailed for 11 years.
He was also handed an indefinite restraining order and placed on the sex offenders register.
I felt proud for having the presence of mind to gather evidence during the most horrific episode of my life.
And I thanked my police training for giving me the focus to see it through.
But despite my resilience, I struggled to move on.
You expect to feel safe in your own home. Especially sleeping. Only, now, I was terrified, so me and my cats moved to a new house, where I’m trying to regain my independence.
I suffer PTSD, chronic emotional instability, nightmares, and I’m plagued with anxiety.
I can’t go out after dark. But knowing my bedroom attacker is off the streets helps me sleep at night.