Showing results by narrator "Tony Macaulay" in All Categories

It s Belfast, 1977. The King is dead and a 14-year-old boy wearing Denim aftershave has just been appointed breadboy in the last Ormo Mini-Shop in the world, delivering bread to the residents of the Upper Shankill on Saturday mornings. He s all grown up now, so he is, and nearly shaving. The Bee Gees fill the airwaves, everyone is in love with Princess Leia, and Breadboy s love of peace and pets is soon rivalled by his interest in parallel universes and punk...and girls, especially Judy Carlton who sits opposite him in chemistry.

It’s Belfast, 1982, and an 18-year-old boy wearing Hai Karate aftershave has a date with destiny. He’s a real man now, so he is, and shaving twice a week. Following his successful career as a breadboy, he’s going where few people from the upper Shankill have boldly gone before: to university. He trades the comforts of home for a life of Yellow Pack beans, student digs, and late-night intellectual debates on sex, socialism, and The Smiths, but this former paperboy doesn’t forget his roots.

It’s Belfast in 2019 and despite more than 20 years of peace, scores of so-called peace walls continue to separate Catholic and Protestant neighbourhoods. Jean Beattie’s grief turns to anger when police refuse to open the peace gate at the end of her street to allow her best friend’s funeral procession through to her church on the other side of the peace wall. The gate remains closed because local youths are recreational rioting. Comforted by her friends from the cross-community pensioners’ club, Jean vows the gate will be opened.

It's Belfast, 1975. The city lies under the dark cloud of the Troubles, and hatred fills the air like smoke. But Tony Macaulay has just turned 12 and he's got a new job. He's going to be a paperboy. And come rain or shine - or bombs and mortar - he will deliver. Paperboy lives in Upper Shankill, Belfast, in the heart of the conflict between Loyalists and Republicans. Bombings are on the evening news, rubble lies where buildings once stood, and rumours spread like wildfire about the IRA and the UDA.