'We treated Natalie like a princess, we'll love her forever'

It's Sunday 18 December 2022 and Lionel Messi is lifting the World Cup trophy on TV while a delighted Natalie McNally watches on.

The 32-year-old is a huge fan of the Argentinian footballer. She's in her parents' living room, they've just eaten a roast chicken dinner and Christmas is just one week away.

She is 15 weeks pregnant and is planning to call her baby son Dean.

But in a few hours, Natalie would be dead. She was beaten, strangled and stabbed by her partner Stephen McCullagh, the father of her unborn child.

"She was so happy that night," her mother Bernie said in January 2023.

"She said: 'Mummy, I'll see you on Monday or Tuesday.' And that was her last words to me."

McCullagh's conviction on Monday brought the McNally family's three-year journey for justice to its final chapter.

The image of a family united in grief and determination for justice following her death matched the closeness they had in her life.

When Natalie said goodbye to her family for the final time, she travelled the short distance to her home in Silverwood Green – a red brick townhouse testament to the success of her career in the marketing department of bus and train operator Translink.

But, it was her parents Bernie and Noel's home where the family usually congregated and where she would regularly see brothers Niall, Declan and Brendan.

"We went to concerts together, we went to football matches and Gaelic (football) matches together," said Declan.

"We loved all of them and maybe didn't appreciate how special they were."

When Niall made an initial plea for information following her death, he spoke of how the brothers called her Nats and that, as the only girl among boys, they treated her like a princess.

He said they worried about her because she had lived with diabetes from a young age – they came to support her, he said, as if she were "a precious egg".

Brendan told a rally in her honour in Lurgan Park that the family were brimming with pride over what she had achieved in life.

"She'd earned two degrees, had a successful career, lived independently, had her own network of friends and looked after scores of cats and dogs," he told the crowd.

This rally was taking place on 28 January 2023, just more than a month after Natalie had been killed. No-one had yet been charged with her murder.

But the killer was hiding in plain sight – McCullagh was not only at the rally but he had put together a montage of home videos of Natalie, which were displayed on big screens.

In the weeks after her murder, McCullagh was a regular visitor to the family home. He even deliberately left his phone in Natalie's home, recording her family's conversations in the hope of picking up intelligence.

He essentially became part of the inner circle of grief as the case, and the ensuing police manhunt, dominated the news cycle.

During this six-week period Natalie's family and friends conducted heart-breaking interviews with the media – each prepared to bare their soul in their darkest moment to keep the focus on the investigation, in the hope that someone, somewhere had information that could bring this unbearable suffering to an end.

Through tears, Bernie said: "She was my best friend and I don't know how do we go on without her. How do we go on?"

There were arrests, releases, interviews, rallies and appeals. Natalie's image was shown at the games of her favourite sports teams – Everton and Armagh GAA.

As those weeks stretched on, the police were building their case with a major focus on one element in particular – CCTV.

Among the 3,000 hours of footage seized by investigators, there was a figure who travelled by bus from near McCullagh's home to Lurgan.

This man had his lower face covered and was wearing dark clothes, gloves and carrying a bag.

But there was a moment, when this man was boarding the bus, that the footage showed him in profile – this moment was what convinced police it was Stephen McCullagh.

There was also the fuzzy image of a man entering Natalie's development. Then footage that showed a figure walking away from where Natalie lived.

Police believed he was wearing a hat and wig.

It was thought he'd intended to catch the last train but was late, instead taking someone else's taxi, straight to McCullagh's front door.

It was this methodical jigsaw of footage that allowed police to arrest McCullagh for a second time and seize his computer. He was previously arrested at the scene of the crime but later released.

Forensic analysis would show that the content creator's supposed alibi – a six-hour video game live stream broadcast the night Natalie died – was not live at all but pre-recorded days before.

McCullagh's plan was unravelling.

Three days after the Lurgan Park rally where McCullagh stood shoulder to shoulder with the McNallys, his house was raided. Two days later, he was charged with murder.

He had everyone fooled. Until he hadn't.

But, even then, due to the slow pace of Northern Ireland's justice system, the McNallys waited more than three years for him to face trail.

The case was even threatened by a barrister's strike until it was exempted from industrial action.

After McCullagh was convicted, her family stood side by side outside the court and paid tribute to a beloved daughter and sister.

Her brother, Declan, said having Natalie in their lives was "the greatest joy they will ever have".

He said she would have been an amazing mother and that they would love her forever.

McCullagh's sentencing is expected to take place in May, but the fallout from the grave crime he visited upon the family will last a lifetime.