Paula McCartney looks out the window of her Short Strand home to the streets
where she was born and reared. "I'll never set foot here again once the
house is sold," she says.
"I've lived here 40 years but it seems a strange place to me now. Every day
that passes, I find it more unbearable.
"I don't want to be in an area where a dozen people involved in an innocent
man's murder can walk around freely, proud of themselves, thinking they're
the untouchables."
It will be six months next Sunday since Robert McCartney was fatally stabbed
outside Magennis's bar. "I look at my brother's picture in the newspapers
but I don't really see him," says Paula.
"I can't afford to. To have the strength to campaign every day, you have to
shut out so many emotions. If I allowed myself to grieve properly, I'd break
into pieces. I wouldn't be able for anything else."
But sometimes, despite herself, the memories come flooding back. "Robert was
a mad Liverpool fan. I remember him sitting there, crying his eyes out when
they were beaten, and then being really embarrassed and making me swear not
to tell anybody.''
The small red-brick terrace, where the McCartneys have made tea and talked
to the world's media, went on the market earlier this month. A few streets
away, the home of Bridgeen Hagans, Robert's partner, is also for sale.
The "final straw" was when Bridgeen's home was attacked with stones and
bottles as she lay sleeping with her two sons. But there have been more
subtle acts of intimidation, says Paula.
"A fortnight ago one man involved in the clean-up operation after Robert's
murder walked up, bold as brass, to Bridgeen's door and put a leaflet about
the local community centre through the letter-box.
"On the Twelfth night, there was a whole crowd of them strutting up and down
outside Bridgeen's wearing baseball caps and marshals' vests. It's only a
minority of people in the area doing this – those involved in the murder,
their friends and relatives – but they're a very powerful minority in terms
of throwing their weight about.
"I used to love walking, I never drove anywhere. Now I won't even go to the
shops for a paper or milk in case I meet Robert's killers. I walk from the
front door to the car and that's it. I know that's no way to live."
Paula has been house-hunting this week. She has placed offers on two houses
in the Four Winds, a religiously mixed area in south Belfast. "I don't care
which one I get, I just want to move. I've hardly the heart to clean this
house anymore."
She has refused counselling: "I have periods of blackness and maybe I will
talk to somebody professionally – but not until we have won justice for
Robert." Between them, the McCartney sisters have 17 children – five are
Paula's.
"The three teenagers are great. They loved their Uncle Robert to bits and
are committed to the campaign. They've never once asked me to stop.
Explaining what's going on to the younger two – who are eight and three – is
difficult."
Family life has suffered, she admits. "We eat takeaways four nights a week.
My husband Jim has been brilliant but I don't have time to give the kids the
attention they deserve. I became a grandmother a few months ago and I've
hardly held the baby.
"I know it's a sacrifice for my family but I think the first priority at the
moment must be fighting for a proper society for our kids and everybody
else's." Paula had to drop out of her women's studies course at Queen's
University but hopes to return in September.
Ask her about her social life and she laughs: "What's that? On Friday
nights, I used to have the girls round for a drink and chat. That just
doesn't happen now. I went out once, to my cousin Gerard's engagement party.
I looked at him and his fiancée and they were so happy. I thought of Robert
and Bridgeen, and started crying."
Terry Davison has been charged with Robert McCartney's murder and Jim
McCormick with the attempted murder of Brendan Devine. They will go on trial
early next year.
Paula views the charges as "the beginning, not the end" of the
investigation. From information in the family's possession, she wants three
other people charged with murder and a further 10 with involvement in the
stabbings or clean-up operation.
She is planning a meeting with Kevin Dunwoody, the detective leading the
inquiry. She has "every faith" in him and his team. She remains deeply
dissatisfied with Sinn Féin's response, including at her last meeting with
Gerry Adams a fortnight ago.
The McCartneys are angry that Davison and McCormick were admitted onto the
republican wing in Maghaberry prison. "We were told by Sinn Féin that anyone
even suspected of involvement in events at Magennis's would be isolated and
ostracised by the republican movement.
"So why are these men on the republican wing? Ten hunger-strikers died
telling the world republicans weren't criminals. Doesn't the acceptance of
these men criminalize the republican movement?"
The sisters had been told it was the prison authorities who sent Davison and
McCormick to the republican wing. However, the Sunday Tribune has learned
they applied to go there.
Sources said they met the "selection criteria" which includes whether a
prisoner is, or is perceived to be, a member or supporter of a paramilitary
organisation and whether they would be at risk from other prisoners on the
wing.
"We are sickened that Sinn Féin tells us one thing and the reality on the
ground, whether in the Short Strand or Maghaberry prison, is the opposite,"
says Paula.
The last six months have taken the sisters to Washington, Brussels and
London. In a fortnight, they're off to the Birmingham festival to meet the
Rev Jesse Jackson. A few weeks later, they travel to Berlin to receive an
award.
In November, it's back to the US as guests of Senator Ted Kennedy. Paula and
Catherine, who runs a feminist newspaper, are standing up to the strain
well. Gemma, a nurse, hasn't returned to work. Claire, a teaching assistant,
went back just before the summer holidays but found it tough. Donna, who has
a sandwich shop, is "very down".
The public response, though, keeps them going. Bridgeen has been sent
abusive letters, including one containing excrement. "But we've received
hundreds telling us not to give up," says Paula.
"People's kindness is overwhelming. A man called into Donna's shop with six
silver bracelets – one for each of us – all with crucifixes and miraculous
medals attached."
Sometimes Paula still can't believe her family has been catapulted onto the
international stage: "There's so much to get your head round. I never
thought we'd leave the Short Strand like this either.
"There have been generations of us here, generations of strong women. My
great granny was born blind. She had a rag shop in Seaforde Street and she
raised six children on her own after her husband died.
"So it's the end of an era for the McCartneys. But I don't want our enemies
thinking they've won. We might be moving out but they haven't heard the last
from us."
