SHORTLY AFTER 2.30pm a whisper went round the Central Criminal Court that a verdict was on the way.
Teenagers, some chewing their nails and fretting their hair, quickly filled up the benches and balcony.
Finn Colclough’s father, John, was breathing heavily. He briefly put his hand on Finn’s knee, before adopting the same pose as his 18-year-old son: head bowed, eyes downcast.
Just half an hour earlier, Mr Colclough had unwrapped a boiled sweet while his son passed him some loose change. Now they were about to hear a verdict that would change their lives forever.
One young member of the Nolan family was already wiping her eyes and then the entire family seemed to slump in their seats when the female foreman of the jury revealed a verdict had been reached.
Not guilty of murder but guilty of manslaughter.
No one gasped. No one lost control. The reaction was stoical.
Finn Colclough’s mother, Alix, remained clutching the bench behind her son’s back. Seán Nolan’s mother, Charlotte, bowed her head.
December 19th was named as the date for sentencing, and Mr Justice Paul Carney said Finn Colclough should be remanded in custody until then.
Thanking the jury of eight men and four women for their careful consideration, he said these cases were difficult for everyone involved, before exempting them from jury duty for the rest of their lives.
Then the court was hushed. People stood up but few seemed to want to leave, except for the mother of the dead youth.
Many stood looking at the Colcloughs, who remained in their seats talking to their legal advisers. A long-haired female friend of Finn Colclough sat crying quietly until her
mobile phone started
buzzing and she jumped up
and ran out.
Eventually the court emptied. In the Round Hall of the Four Courts, Finn Colclough’s friends huddled in a circle, talking in low voices.
Seán Nolan’s father, Michael, hugged well-wishers and began to make his way out calmly.
The immediate members of the Nolan family entered a private room.
Outside, the Four Courts complex was quiet, although sirens could be heard wailing in the distance.
When they emerged, relatives and friends formed a human shield, hiding Mr and Mrs Nolan from the photographers and television cameramen outside the gates.
They kept their backs to the cameras until the pair got into a silver car and drove off.
Those left behind hugged each other, before filtering out through the gates and on to the quays.
Shortly afterwards, the young friends of Finn Colclough also left, emerging into a weekend that would surely be different from any other.
