Columba had just won a talent competition and is resplendent in top-hat and tails. "Wasn't he handsome?" says Vera. "He was always singing.

He was a real fruitcake . . . he'd even sing to the dog!

I never thought the provos would waste a bullet on Columba."

It's 31 years since the IRA abducted and killed her son, and Vera still hasn't a body to bury. She's not alone. The bodies of five of 'the disappeared' have been found, but 10 have not. The IRA killed eight of those victims, although it has only admitted to six. The INLA was responsible for one murder, and the Loyalist Volunteer Force for one.

The IRA victims are all buried in the Republic, most in bogland.

Sources say fresh digs could begin soon following additional information from the IRA, plus a report from a forensic expert. He has made a series of recommendations to help locate the remains to the Independent Commission for the Location of Victims' Remains, a joint BritishIrish government body. IRA members, who were involved in the killing, transporting and burying of the disappeared, accompanied the expert to five sites. The families are expected to be briefed by the commission about progress shortly.

"Maybe this hell is coming to an end, " says Vera, "but it's hard to hope. They took the child I reared, shot him, put him down a hole and left him to rot. They're nothing but scum. They could have put a note through my door to tell me he was dead. It was 24 years before they even admitted killing him.

"When he disappeared, I thought he'd met a girl who had been married before, and maybe she was pregnant and he was too frightened to tell his father, so he ran off. I wouldn't have cared if he'd 20 children, I just wanted him home. Every Christmas and birthday, I'd buy him socks and shirts. I'd three drawers of presents for him when the IRA admitted he was dead."

On Hallowe'en night 1975, Columba left his flat in Dolphin's Barn, Dublin, to buy cigarettes. He was never seen again. Sources say three carloads of IRA men were waiting for him and he was bundled into one vehicle.

The McVeighs had sent Columba to Dublin, where they believed he would be safe, after he had got into trouble in the North the previous year. He had been arrested in possession of ammunition.

Republican sources say the British army had recruited him as an informer, giving him bullets to hide in his bedroom.

The alleged plan was that they would raid the house, and Columba would escape and seek help from a local man who ferried IRA members across the border. That man could then be arrested. But the man refused Columba, who was himself arrested and charged. He served four months in Crumlin Road jail where, under interrogation from IRA inmates, he confessed to being an informer.

His family strongly deny Columba was an informer and believe the bullets were planted by the security forces. SDLP councillor and family friend Vincent Currie says: "Columba was abused by both the British army and the IRA. He was a danger to no-one and I don't believe he was an informer."

Vera is tortured by thoughts of her son's final hours. "The priest told me it would have been over quickly but I don't believe that. I'm frightened they burned him with cigarettes and had him in and out of cold baths. Columba was so innocent. He had a red setter, Dusty. She'd sit at his feet or even on his knee. If he bought a bar of chocolate for himself, he'd buy her one. At Christmas, he'd take all the pink wafers from the tins of biscuits and feed them to Dusty." Vera is to meet DUP leader Ian Paisley next month to see if he can do anything to help her find her son.

It will be 25 years next month since Charlie Armstrong, 57, disappeared in Crossmaglen, south Armagh. He was last seen driving to the home of an elderly neighbour whom he took to mass. But he never got there.

His daughter, Anna McShane, now believes he was killed by the IRA: "There had been hijackings in the area and my father always said they'd have to take him before they got the car. It was his pride and joy. It was only a Datsun but he was forever polishing it. He'd hardly let you breathe inside it, he was so particular. He never harmed a soul. His biggest pleasure was carving dolls' houses for the jumble sale."

Charlie's car was found in Dundalk the next day.

His coat was inside but his driving licence was missing. The family clung to hope. "We searched the length and breadth of Ireland, " Anna says. "We had the Salvation Army and the Red Cross looking in England in case he'd gone there. My sister visited Irish clubs with posters of him.

"We thought he might have taken a turn and lost his memory. We even visited clairvoyants. Over the years, nobody powerful helped us. Every time we went to Dundalk garda station to ask about him, we had to deal with a different guard. We felt like a nuisance. Neither government took any interest."

The IRA still denies killing Charlie. "Nobody else would have been responsible in south Armagh, " says Anna. "I see people on the street and wonder, 'Were you involved?' I used to feel sorry for families when the IRA dumped their loved ones' bodies on the road and booby-trapped them.

"But it's worse not having a body. I know my father is dead but I'm still searching. If I'm on holiday or crossing O'Connell Bridge in Dublin, I'll stop the car if I see somebody who looks like him."

The last dig in a Co Monaghan bog five years ago was traumatic, she says. "Standing in the bog water, with water eels and rats, as they scoop out the earth, was awful. They'd find bones, and we wouldn't know if they were animal or human.

Once, we thought they'd found him but it was the chest-bone of a horse."

It is hoped that new imaging equipment can now be used to pinpoint the bodies of the disappeared.

The forensic experts' report on such possible measures was sent to the Independent Commission for the Location of Victims' Remains in December.

Following the IRA's additional information, both nationalist and unionist sources are critical fresh digs haven't already begun. Political sources claim the British government seems uninterested in the search for the disappeared . . . and can't even remember their names . . . with the impetus for progress coming solely from Dublin.

Sandra Peake of the bereaved relatives group, Wave, says: "Summer is a time of optimism for these families because the long, bright days provide ideal conditions for a dig.

"Hopefully, new searches will begin before this summer ends. Things need to move quickly. Some people have been waiting over three decades now. The endless wondering and searching has a devastating impact on family life. It's a long, lonely struggle especially for families in border communities where there is a wall of silence about what has happened."

Margaret McKinney, 75, is 'lucky' in comparison to the mothers of the other disappeared. She waited only 21 years. In 1978, the IRA in west Belfast abducted and secretly buried Brian, 23, and his friend, John McClory.

"I can't begin to explain the difference getting his body back made, " says Margaret. "I've a grave to visit where I can plant wee flowers. I feel Brian is with me now.

"Before that, I had no life. I'd sleep in Brian's bed, with his coat wrapped around me. I changed completely as a person. I lost interest in my husband, I neglected my other children, and I lost my faith. I was so angry with God. I'd go to the chapel and inside me was screaming at the tabernacle, 'How can you be there when you're doing this to me?' I took the picture of the Sacred Heart off the wall and smashed it. I've found peace since I buried Brian."

Back in Donaghmore, Vera McVeigh cries as she talks about her son. "My husband died eight years ago of a broken heart. Paddy never spoke of Columba. He wasn't like me, he bottled things up.

I want to bury my son before I die myself. Columba's name is already on the headstone of the grave. It's just waiting for him."