He beat me senseless. His punishment? Paying me £8 a month

Nearly two years to the day since Tracey Davis thought she was going to die at the hands of her attacker, she sat in court and awaited his sentence.

The 57-year-old mum-of-two had known the defendant since he was just four years old, but, too traumatised to face seeing him, she delivered her witness statement from behind a curtain.

Then the judge started to speak. “I have to say I think this is one of the most troubling and upsetting cases I have ever had to sentence,” she began.

Then she addressed the man: “But I am conscious of your vulnerabilities and will say from the outset I am not going to send you to prison today.”

Tracey put her head in her hands. Tears filled her eyes. Then the rest of the sentence was delivered: a ten-month jail sentence, suspended for 18 months, 25 rehabilitation sessions, a lifelong restraining order against the victim and a fine of £200.

The rehabilitation sessions were to help the man deal with his anger issues and assimilate back into society, having lost his job as a result of the court case. The £200 fine – in the form of compensation to Ms Davis – was payable in monthly instalments of just £8.

“I was in shock,” says Ms Davis. “I honestly don’t have words for how I feel. The whole thing turned into being about him. The judge didn’t even look at me. I’d waited two years for that sentence. I feel so failed.”

It was on June 22, 2022, that Ms Davis was left with a fractured spine, broken nose and suspected broken orbital bone, as well as needing a replacement jaw and later being diagnosed with PTSD, after 25-year-old Neeson Mrvick, of Sudbury Avenue, Sandiacre, climbed through her window and knocked her unconscious with her own vase – a gift she’d received, with flowers, for her birthday just weeks earlier.

Mrvick and his family were neighbours of Davis and her children. Mrvick was autistic, and with his mother not able to drive, Ms Davis would give him lifts to school, college and then even the workplace that he found a job at as a web designer alongside her own son, Mrvick’s good friend, who is also autistic.

But on the day of the attack, Ms Davis found Mrvick outside her living room window, confronting her about a dog which Ms Davis, a hobby breeder, had sold to him, but had taken back for a vet appointment due to concerns he wasn’t looking after it correctly. They were having what she describes as a calm conversation.

Then, all of a sudden, as she pulled the window open to be able to hear him better, Mrvick clambered inside. Ms Davis, terrified, says she put her hands over her face.

Then she hit the ground. She says she felt like she was drowning, before she blacked out.

When she came to, which she believes was around two and a half minutes later, Mrvick was nowhere to be seen but the dog had been taken. Ms Davis recalls blood “everywhere”, on her wardrobes and on her mirror, broken glass smashed so hard on her head that it had embedded in the walls, and “not recognising the face looking back” at her in the mirror.

The police sealed off the scene and the mess was later cleaned up by Ms Davis’ own son and a neighbour. It would be 18 months before the case even reached court.

In the meantime, Ms Davis waited for a year before she was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. She went to hospital on numerous occasions.

She tried to return to her work, as a teaching assistant for pupils with special educational needs, but quit after just days when she experienced an autistic child being violent to another member of staff. She became “virtually a recluse”, fearful of going outside, and now only leaves the house if it’s with her son, who’s 24, or her daughter, who’s 20.

And, in that year-and-a-half period, Mrvick, on bail, lived where he had always lived – just two minutes away from Ms Davis’ house.

When the case did reach court, in January of this year, Mrvick’s barrister claimed he suffered from “intermittent explosive disorder” (IED) – a mental health condition leading to sudden impulsive outbursts of violent behaviour. His sentencing date was set for March 20.

But the case was adjourned, in total, eight times, according to Ms Davis, so that medical advice could be sought on Mrvick’s condition to assist the judge in sentencing. When the sentencing did finally come around on June 7, the judge had been told that Mrvick did not in fact have IED.

Ms Davis was accompanied to court by her son. As they entered the building, they had hope that their idea of justice would be served.

But instead of being greeted by the “amazing” barrister and judge who had presided over the case during the previous hearings, she found an entirely new judge and barrister. Ms Davis had become acquainted with the previous barrister after having long conversations, and says she felt like she “cared”.

The new barrister, Ms Davis said, didn’t put in a single word to argue her case to the judge for a stronger sentence. And when the judge made her sentencing remarks, Neeson having pleaded guilty to assault occasioning actual bodily harm, Ms Davis claims the recorder didn’t even acknowledge her.

It became “all about Neeson”, she says.

Ironically, before the sentence had even been passed, Ms Davis noted in her witness statement that Mrvick had been allowed to “do it and walk away”, in reference to the two years he had been free between the date of the attack and the sentencing. Then it was passed – and he walked free, right back to the home which, when Ms Davis spoke to Nottinghamshire Live, he was still living in just minutes from her property.

“My life has been completely taken away from me,” said Ms Davis. “It really has. I just feel so let down. I’m lucky to be alive. I just could not believe how I was treated on that final day. That after two years, that’s all it’s amounted to. After all I’ve been through and that my family have been through.

“I could’ve died in my own living room. That’s the part that’s hung over me for two years. It’s been exhausting and horrendous. But all I was listening to was how hard it’s been for him. This has changed my whole life and my family’s life. It’s been turned upside down.”