The girl's lip trembled, her swollen eyes began to well up and her face crumpled into an anguished frown, writes Carl O'Brien
"No!", she wailed, between sharp and staggered breaths. "I'll do anything. Please ..."
Judge Seán MacBride was inquiring whether there was still a bed available at Oberstown Girls' Centre, where the 16-year-old from Dublin's south inner-city had been detained for the previous three weeks.
A report from careworkers, which the judge read from, said the girl, a heroin addict, came from a background of drug and alcohol abuse. It also mentioned the malign influence of a "male friend" who had introduced her to drugs. The girl's glassy eyes darted over towards her mother, who sat motionless at the back of the Children's Court, and then looked up towards the glass ceiling. After inspecting reports and seeking advice from careworkers, the judge decided she be bound to the peace and released on bail with strict conditions.
"You are to have no contact, either physically, verbally, or by way of communication, i.e. mobile phone or e-mail, with the third party who is a malign influence. We will call him, for the purposes of open court, Mr X. If you have any contact with the individual, then bail will be revoked."
The girl interrupted the judge. "I'll do anything judge," she spluttered, grasping the silver cross that hung around her neck. "Thank you."
The judge, visibly frustrated at seeing the name of Mr X in the report, which he had seen many times before, continued: "I can't understand, given the devastation of drugs in this city, why there should not be more co-ordination between health agencies and the gardaí so these drug dealers can be arrested. I think it's time, as they say in championship football, that the gloves were taken off. For far too long these people have been tolerated ... I recognise the man in this case. I could write a book on him after my five years on the bench."
Turning back to the girl, the judge directed that she stay with her family, obey a curfew and attend a drug treatment programme. He ruled that bail be fixed at the nominal cost of €50. Her mother, wearing a fleece jacket and jeans, fumbled in her wallet for the money. After a few moments the woman beside her from the youth advocacy programme produced a €50 note and handed it to her.
The 16-year-old girl held a pen awkwardly as she signed her name on an official document before getting up to go. "Thanks judge," she said softly, as she left the court in her sky-blue tracksuit and white runners, with her mother.
The contrast between her and another 16-year-old girl who stood before the court later yesterday afternoon was stark.
The girl, who lives in a caravan with her family in the inner-city, sat back on the bench and smirked defiantly to herself as the judge read silently through her parole report. She changed to a glum frown when her solicitor looked at her and placed his index finger to his lips. "This is a very urgent matter," the judge said. "The conditions in which she has been residing are deplorable. One could only imagine this would be in Calcutta in Mother Teresa's time."
While the girl had been arrested for an assault in Temple Bar, the judge said she was basically a good person who had a talent for art and home economics which should be developed.
"I know you are a person of good morals who has fallen into a family situation which has nothing to do with you. I am prepared to give you a chance."