It was biting cold, but Sorcha McKenna and her friends and family were not complaining as they stood shivering outside Cavan Courthouse yesterday morning. It was a moment they had long been awaiting.
Her father, Vincent, was due to arrive to be sentenced for 31 counts of sexual and indecent assault against her. A huge contingent of her mother Fiona's family, the McClearys, had arrived by minibus. "We're hoping McKenna gets 10 years," said Stephen McCleary, Sorcha's uncle.
"We'll have him placed on the sex offenders' register on both sides of the Border and we'll make sure we know his every move," said an aunt. "I never liked him," said another relative. "But Fiona was mad about him. She knows what he's like now."
While the McClearys' feelings for McKenna were evident, they were in good spirits. They were delighted with the guilty verdict a fortnight ago and believed justice would be done.
When McKenna arrived, gardai took him in by a side door to avoid the crowd. Dressed in a dark suit and blue shirt and tie, he was stony-faced. "You're not grinning now, are you, Vincent?" somebody shouted. "Pervert bastard!" somebody else yelled.
The courtroom was packed. McKenna never made eye contact with his wife or daughter, who were just a few feet away. He sat, surrounded by eight gardai, an isolated figure.
The hostility from the public gallery was overwhelming. Everybody stared at him, but he just looked straight ahead or to the ground. One of his lawyers noted that he didn't have anyone there to support him.
The court dealt with a string of minor cases, mainly traffic offences, for what seemed like an eternity. Judge Matt Deery was concerned that Sorcha McKenna was standing. "Would Miss McKenna like a seat?" he inquired. A garda offered her his chair.
The hearing was dominated by McKenna's barrister, Mr Michael O'Higgins. After a brief address, Judge Deery sentenced McKenna to three years. He showed no emotion.
His ex-wife Fiona began sobbing loudly. McKenna was jostled as he was led from the dock. Outside the courtroom a man punched him. A garda took another blow. Sorcha stood weeping on the steps of the courthouse. She was hugged by a friend.
"A three-year sentence does not reflect the crimes he committed against me," she said. "I just hope other people won't be put off and will have the courage to look for justice. The sentence is ridiculous. I'm just glad everything is over."