As a small east Cork community struggles to come to terms with the abduction and murder of 11-year-old Robert Holohan, Carl O'Brien in Midleton reports on every parent's worst fear.
As she waited outside Midleton's CBS National School in an icy wind, Elizabeth Warne put her hands in the pockets of her fleece jacket and shivered. Groups of parents stood quietly waiting for school to end for the afternoon. Some stood silently on their own. Others huddled in small groups and talked in hushed tones.
"My 12-year-old is heartbroken," said mother-of-eight Elizabeth. "She's not sleeping, she's not eating. My nine-year-old boy is too young and too naive to really know what's going on. My other daughter won't leave the house to visit her friends across the road unless I stand at the door. Things have changed. This is just the way it is now."
It's a sentiment shared by parents across east Cork and further afield. Locals are still numbed by the murder of 11-year-old Robert Holohan. Most are only beginning to come to terms with the impact the horrifying event will have on the lives of parents and children.
The contrasting images of a child cycling on his new BMX, which he received as a Christmas present, and of gardaí blessing themselves over Robert's frozen remains on a lonely laneway, will resonate for years in the community.
Amid the villages and market towns in the area, there is a feeling that the last remnants of innocence in rural life have finally been swept away. The abduction and murder of children was associated with distant places such as Soham or Belgium (the Dutroux case). That distance felt comforting, and fostered a sense that something similar could never happen here. But now, locals are confronting the horrible reality that Midleton has become Ireland's Soham.
"If it can happen in a place like Ballyedmond [ where Robert's family live, a few miles outside Midleton], then it can happen anywhere," says one parent at the school.
"The changes in the last few days are incredible," says another mother. "There are no kids on the streets, the playgrounds are empty. No one wants to let their kids out of their sight."
From the moment Robert disappeared, people began to fear the worst.
As dusk fell on Tuesday, January 4th, a neighbour spotted the boy's silver BMX abandoned in a ditch. So careful was he of his treasured possession that just days earlier he had refused to leave it outside a local chipper in case it was scratched.
It was out of character for Robert, a bubbly, energetic boy who was mad about sports, not to contact home. That evening, his family and neighbours searched the Ballyedmond area, just off the Fermoy-Midleton road. The search for a missing person officially got underway that night when Robert's father, Mark, contacted the Garda.
As news spread of his disappearance the next day, hundreds of local people, gardaí, and Red Cross and coastguard volunteers turned up to look for Robert. Within 24 hours, the number of volunteers helping in the search had swelled to 1,000, with the support of the Army, Civil Defence and the Garda's sub-aqua team. In cold weather and driving rain, the numbers increased even further last weekend.
Shift workers used their spare time to take part in the search, gardaí from other parts of the country volunteered to participate, and ordinary people from as far away as Co Mayo and Dublin arrived on the scene, eager to help in any way they could. As hope ebbed away that there might be a positive outcome, the likelihood that Robert had been abducted grew.
"We want him home tonight, we want him home with us," said Robert's mother, Majella, in tight, anguished tones during a televised plea. "We don't care what's after happening - whoever has him, please let him go and send him home to me tonight."
Rumours swirled around the town that gardaí were questioning people on the sex offenders' register. Gardaí appealed for information about numerous suspicious sightings, including a well-dressed man seen walking in a stubble field close to Robert's home.
Then, on a chilly Wednesday afternoon this week, came the answer no one wanted. Two volunteers spotted the body of a young boy in the briars and weeds alongside a laneway leading to Inch Strand, 14 miles from Midleton.
It was a horribly incongruous setting. The scenic area, popular with locals, especially in the summer months, had become the dumping ground for an abducted 11-year-old.
Now that the search has been superseded by a murder hunt, there are fears that anger towards Robert's killer could spill over into vengeful attacks on suspects in the investigation. The degree of local knowledge required to know the isolated roadway where Robert's body was found, and the maze of by-roads that lead to Inch Strand, point towards someone who was familiar with the area.
Rumours swirled around east Cork this week that out of 100 paedophiles on the sex offenders' register in the Cork area, around 20 were living in Midleton. The numbers are unconfirmed by gardaí, but they have said they are contacting offenders on the register as part of their investigations. Gardaí said yesterday that post-mortem results showed Robert's death was due to asphyxiation and that there was no evidence of sexual assault.
Many parents involved in the search have expressed anger that locals do not have any right to know whether people on the sex offenders' register are living in their own community.
"You need to feel reassured," says one volunteer searcher and father of two. "We should be allowed to know where people on the register live in the community. I think they need help as well."
In the quiet, reflective atmosphere of the sacristy in the Holy Rosary Church in Midleton, Father Billy O'Donovan says he is worried about any sudden response to these issues.
"We need to get the balance right," he says. "People are talking about tagging sex offenders or putting security guards at schools. Maybe we're forgetting that 99.9 per cent of people are good. I think we need to let things settle down and reflect on all of this. Maybe it's better to answer those questions over the next 12 months rather than taking any knee-jerk reaction."
Ken Murray, a solicitor and town councillor, says he is optimistic that people will remain calm and let the Garda continue its investigations.
"We can't get Robert back and I think the attitude among people now will be to sit back and let the gardaí do their job," he says. "The feeling is of grim resolution to see this through rather than revenge at this stage."
At Robert's school and at his GAA club, there are worries about what effect the trauma of the last 11 days will have on other children. Mark Walsh, who had coached Robert for the last seven years, says children are reacting to news of the disappearance in different ways.
"For adults it's mind-numbing, it's just hard to know where to start. You can't rationalise these things. You hope that over time you accept them," says Walsh, whose son was a classmate of Robert's. "They [ the children] are probably at an age where the gravity of it all hasn't sunk in yet, which is probably a good thing. It affects people differently: some have been upset and some have been quiet, but would ask the odd probing question."
In his small, cramped office, the principal of Midleton CBS National School, Seán Ó Floinn, says a priority has been trying to restore some semblance of normality to the school day.
"It's a difficult time for the entire school community," he says. "We have been trying to establish a routine at school today. We had a prayer service this morning, we had classes as normal, and had activities and games.
"Children come to terms with things in their own way, they see life as a child sees it. It's not easy for teachers either. Everyone in this community is upset, we're all feeling the same thing. The important thing is to try and continue in a normal, routine way. That's the advice that we are getting."
From the beginning there was something about Robert's disappearance that stirred people from all backgrounds to volunteer to search for the boy. Maybe it was the moving appeals by his parents or Robert's haunting half-smile in the Garda-issued photographs. Or maybe it was the deep-seated fear that this could have been anyone's son that prompted the overwhelming turnout.
"The response has been amazing," says Maurice Moloney, owner of East Cork Golf Club, which became the headquarters for gardaí and volunteers involved in the search. "It shows you that when people are in trouble, the community will come out in support. People are fundamentally good, and that comes out at times like this."
Shops, restaurants, guesthouses and businesses ferried supplies of tea and sandwiches to the golf club to feed the hundreds of volunteers who turned up each day.
Liam Hegarty, a 55-year-old farmer from Ballykenefick, near Whitegate, says the fact that it was a child missing meant every parent could empathise with the Holohans.
"It's the biggest fear you have as a parent, that your child would go missing," says Hegarty, who is also a coastal service volunteer. "During the search you'd be able to chat and not think about how serious it was, but then you'd see something and it would remind you of what you were here for."
"You'd wake up at night and you'd be throwing it all around in your head," says Niall Barrett (50), a father of two from Carrigtohill, who also helped in the search. "One thing at least is that if it wasn't for the huge response, the body probably wouldn't have been found by now."
Despite the community spirit shown by the people of Midleton over the last 11 days, some fear that recent events will add to a sense of growing social isolation.
It is not a feeling confined to Midleton. In many ways the town encapsulates the way Ireland has changed in recent years. A market town hit by unemployment and economic decline in the 1980s and early 1990s, it has prospered dramatically since the boom. The population has soared from around 2,000 to around 10,000 since the mid-1990s, and new shopping complexes and cinemas are being planned for the growing town.
The changes have brought mixed fortunes. While employment is plentiful, many grumble about how few people are involved or have time to participate in community life. With a new transient population renting flats and houses, some locals feel that Midleton is becoming a dormitory town for people working in Cork City.
"Some people born here say they just don't recognise the people they see in town on a Saturday any more," says Ken Murray. "A lot of people are working hard and working late, and have less time to be involved in the community."
Sean Keohane, the chairman of Roinn na nÓg, the juvenile section of Midleton GAA club, is in charge of hurling and football training for around 200 young people. He is determined that the community will hold firm in the face of new worries and fears among parents.
"We felt a responsibility before and we certainly feel it now," says Keohane, who was born and raised in the town. "You have young lads coming to training on their bikes from out of town, and you wonder what will happen now. We're open to guidance on this from the schools and the county board. We'll take whatever steps need to be taken."
One of the voices of calm to emerge in recent days was that of Assistant Commissioner Tony Hickey, of An Garda Síochána. He pointed out that just four children, including Robert, have gone missing in similar circumstances over the last 40 years. In the face of the fear and occasional hysteria over Robert's murder, he said the chances of abduction are still tiny.
"Obviously four is too many, but people have to be sensitive and reasonable," he said at a press conference on Thursday night.
Some locals take a different view. Unlike those of some other missing children, Robert's body has been found. And all indications are that the killer, who is still on the loose, may be living locally.
Back at the school, Seán Ó Floinn is closing up for the evening. The phone on his desk rings every few minutes with messages of support from colleagues around the country. It's comforting, he says, but there is no escaping his concern at the longer-term impact of Robert's murder on life for children in the Midleton area and elsewhere.
"Society has changed a lot. The state of innocence we once had is gone," he says slowly, looking out of his office window towards the empty schoolyard. "We can't take everything for granted and we're all going to have to take more care of children generally.
"If you go too far you take away their freedom and stop children doing the things children want to do. Parents can't be too controlling. Most people are decent, the vast majority of people we meet in a lifetime are good people. But the worry is that a child will meet the wrong person."