She was out roaring in the early hours of the morning. A middle-aged handsome woman in the street in her nightdress, screeching like she was being violently attacked.

Nobody had laid a finger on her. Instead, people scurried by, afraid to become involved. Even the hard chaws in the street just shouted back and went on their way, in case The Law would come and involve them . . .

By the time the other tenants got on to me, remedies had been exhausted. Gardai had been called several times, but as tenants, watching from upstairs windows told me, no male Garda on his own would lay a finger on her and by the time a female Garda arrived, the distraught woman had often returned to her flat, there to continue roaring for another while until she - and the tenants - were exhausted. She from roaring, they from listening . . .

The public pain of the Screeching Woman was heard mainly at weekends. After nights of disturbed sleep, most of the occupants of the apartment block, twenty and thirtysomethings in the competitive workforce, were not feeling too alert and bright-eyed on Monday morning.

Although I did not own the punitive apartment, I was on the management committee and eventually a delegation of tenants asked me to intervene.

They were getting no response from the owner, their nerves were frayed: one said he wouldn't be responsible for what he might do, if the screeching continued.

I explored various options and built up a file of information on the unfortunate woman. At weekends she was on temporary release from a psychiatric institution, preparatory to being reintegrated into the community, at the behest of her family, who had promised to house and care for her.

Instead, they had dumped her into an apartment which they owned - and seemed deaf to pleadings from neighbours.

So the family problem became the problem of strangers. When the screeching began, the tenants rang the local nick.

Although the Gardai could caution and apprehend under various by-laws, they lacked powers to continually restrain her. Unless she physically attacked someone. Or so they said . . .

Nor could they return her to the asylum, without the co-operation of her family. Dublin Council could respond to complaints under Noise Abatement, take a case in the courts for eviction, which would take months to process.

And so on. It seemed that no one, other than her immediate blood family, had the legal power to return her to her proper place, within the walls of an institution.

Getting a dialogue with the family took some time. They did not respond to a formal letter from the Management Company, reminding them of their duties under the Purchase Lease, viz . . . NOT to cause nuisance, annoyance or suffer same to be done . . . to tenants, owners or occupiers of any or adjoining or neighbouring premises.

Eventually, they responded to a letter couched in strong legal language, threatening they would be sued for injuries arising to the physical and mental well-being of the tenants.

A tense meeting followed, during which much legalese fell into an all too-human pit.

I met an elderly parent, bearing the scars of having cared for a mentally ill daughter for most of her adult life.

He seemed broken by the experience and part of me wanted to console him . . .

He explained it had started with some aberrant behaviour of her adolescence.

Then came the years of coping with tantrums, visits to doctors, psychiatrists and then facing the painful reality of institutional care.

But now there was some kind of changed drug regime, which had given the family hope for improvement.

The Institution's advice had been to try and integrate her back into the family.

But in the intervening years, the various other family members, all now adults, had gone their own way.

He was left to look after her and he could not cope. Within weeks of her coming back to their suburban home, the screaming started . . .

So his son had put her into the apartment which he owned.

They thought independent living might help her cope . . . I said it was a sad tale, that many families had similar situations but of no comfort to my tenants if she stayed and disrupted their lives.

He accepted it and promised to talk with the hospital.

A few days later, she walked like a lamb into an ambulance and was taken away from the street.

The tenants went back to sleep. I have no more to say. I am only a Landlord.